One day in Barcelona

It’s time to crack out the sandals! Both with feet so white feet they blinded the locals, Jess and I set off south down sunny Rambla de Badal for a 15km loop around Barcelona.

Having never explored Montjuïc, I was keen to take Jess towards the centre of town via some new territory. Montjuïc is mostly parkland and scrubland, but is also home to an impressive number of sports pitches, stadiums, galleries, jardins and a castle.

I probably underestimated both the distance and altitude in walking there, but once the views started to reward us, it felt worth it. The park had a lot of cute pine trees and dry climate oaks growing, not to mention some gorgeous wildflowers and the first prickly pears of the trip.

The sea-facing edge of the park has a huge ridge line running along it, which may be artificial to some degree, to help with guarding against seafaring enemies, or maybe it was just a bit of geological luck for the Catalonians. These days, the ridge seems to be concealing the huge city port, which existed at a scale that made trucks look adorably small.

Further northeast, we reached Castell de Montjuïc, a former version of which was used to defeat the Spanish army in 1641 following Catalonia’s revolt against Spanish authority. The current castell was completed in the 18th century, but it witnessed executions and war crimes as late as 1940, in the context of the Spanish Civil War. These days, it suffers far worse atrocities, like 6 men all watching a 7th man mow a patch of grass.

Back on flat land, we said hello to the Columbus Monument, a 7.2-metre high statue of Columbus pointing out to sea (Algeria, technically) atop a much taller column. The America’s Cup sailing races were getting set up in the bay, which Jess knew more about than me. It’s a very short race, 3km it seems, but the boats are so fancy that they can literally fly in the right hands. Probably a little bit comfier than Columbus’ ships.

On the La Rambla, we were confronted by the chaos of tourism, with street performers, beggars, pickpockets, artists, stall holders and waiters all being a lot to navigate in addition to the tourists themselves. One poor man with a bad case of cellulitis on his leg was sitting in the middle of the dirty footpath, wound exposed to the air. He’ll stick with me like a man I saw in Mumbai who would have been inflicted with polio as a child, who had to walk with his arms.

Hiding out of the midday sun, we had a gorgeous mix of tapas in a courtyard. We needn’t have worried about eating enough, because just up the road was the wonderful Mercat de la Bouqueria. A mix of raw produce and tapas, the market sold pretty much anything edible you could think of. Every part of animals, a multitude of fruit and veg varieties, and plenty of gorgeous seafood. We stocked up on fruit and veg, which I’m very excited about. Stone fruit is perfect at the moment.

In a moment of self-indulgence, I dragged Jess to Plaça de Sant Felip Neri, the square where an Evanescence film clip was shot nearly 20 years ago (My Immortal, if you’re wondering). Unsurprisingly, it is still exactly the same. The pock marks in the square’s walls are a result of nationalist bombings during the Spanish Civil War, which resulted in the deaths of 42 people taking refuge in the church, most of whom were orphans from Madrid. The gothic quarter is also home to the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia, which is a sight to behold.

We considered going to a flamenco performance at the Palau de la Música Catalana, but of course, performances start well after our bedtime. The building is gorgeous, though. Further along, we had a nice rest and enjoyed some people-watching in the Placa de Sant Pere, before heading past the Arc de Triomf.

With blistered feet, our final stop for the day was the Sagrada Familia. An awful lot has been added since I was a child, which is making me feel quite old. Admittedly, the newer masonry is nowhere near as intricate as the front of the cathedral. The addition of colour to the exterior of a church is a fun touch - nuts to think he died a century ago, and designed it well before that.

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Back at the hostel, we chatted to a Korean man who just hiked half of the Camino de Santiago for two weeks, with two changes of clothes and not much else. The rest of the hostel is heading out to the club, but we are heading to bed to catch a morning train to Sevilla.