Barcelona Calling

Text by Tim; photos by Terre

I can sum up Barcelona simply: it is my favorite city in Europe. So far.

I like it better than Paris. I like it better than Rome. I like it better than, dare I say it, Dublin.

This is my second visit. We stayed two nights in 2000, just enough time to get a taste of this beautiful town. Now, on this trip, Terre and I would get up and say, “Want to stay another day?” Sure! So we did. Five times. Every time we started to move, we changed our mind. Our cheapie little Formule 1 hotel was about 800 metres from the train station. It was 5 € return for the two of us into town. What more could you want?

So, we walked and walked and walked around Barcelona.

The first day, we took the train to Sants station. I chose it because, on my transit map, all of the train lines went there, so I figured it must be central. And there was a big street heading northeast from there that just had to be Las Ramblas, the city’s hip, happening street. So, we popped up from underground, found the street and walked as far as Diagonal. Nope. This definitely was not Las Ramblas. A nice street, but no tourist junk. No flower stands. No one selling birds. Nope.


So, I got out the map. Ah, this one must be it. We walked another mile or so down Diagonal to another street and walked the other way down it. Again, I was mistaken. So, we gave into the winds and just wandered.


Getting on towards sunset, we ended up in the university district watching some skateboarders try to break their necks. We were both tired and ready to pack it in when we saw a sign: “La Rambla.” Well, signs I can follow. Five minutes later, we were on one of Europe’s most famous streets—even if it had taken us four-and-a-half hours to get there. Instead of packing it in, we stayed up another couple of hours.

A “rambla” is not a ramble, it is a dry stream bed and this street was built over one. Today it is called Las Ramblas—the plural—because various sections of the street have distinct personalities.

First let me describe it a bit. At one point in its history, this was a very wide avenue, probably six or eight lanes plus parking on either side. But a long time ago—judging by the age of some of the trees—the city decided it really was a place to ramble. So they turned it into a pedestrian area. There is a one lane service road on either side, no parking, and the middle is a raised, concrete island. It runs more than a kilometre from Place Catalunya (Plaza Catalonia) to the Cristopher Columbus monument down at the waterfront, the one where Columbus is pointing to the east, away from the New World. (He gets a monument in Barcelona because this is where he made his “official” landing and was met by Fred and Izzie.)




There is one section where they sell birds. How any town can support the sale of so many parrots, finches, canaries, and budgies is beyond me. I mean, are they really that popular? And most of these stalls also sell cute little bunnies. However, I suspect that these creatures are not destined to be family pets but for family pots.

We ended our five days in town by going to see King Kong, this time in English with Spanish sub-titles, but surely it wouldn’t have mattered if it had been in Swahili. Lots of fun.

We are heading south for the sun!