The merchant with a purse full of gold no baker would take
A wealthy merchant rode into a walled market town with a purse of foreign gold heavy enough to buy the whole street. He was hungry after the road, so he stopped at the first baker, set a gleaming coin on the counter, and asked for bread. The baker turned it over, frowned, and pushed it back. It wasn’t that the coin was worthless — it was that it wasn’t his coin, not the town’s coin, and he had no way to weigh it or trust it.
The merchant was rich and could buy nothing. He walked the square with gold in his pocket and an empty stomach, until a moneychanger showed him the way: take your gold to the town’s counting-house, open a strongbox in its ledger, and you’re given local coin the whole market recognises. He did. Within the hour he had bread, a room, and a standing order with the wine seller. Nothing about his wealth had changed. What changed was that the town could finally say yes to it.
The town wasn’t poor and it wasn’t suspicious of strangers. It simply only trades in coin it can recognise — and until the merchant held some, all his gold bought him was a long walk round the square.
A Spanish bank account is that strongbox in the town’s ledger. Your money can be perfectly real and perfectly yours, and Spain will still quietly decline to take it — for the electricity, the IBI, the mortgage — until it sits in an account the market recognises. Open the account and the town starts saying yes.

