Barcelona / Journals / Musings / Stills

Something private, something hidden

I didn’t know it was possible to feel something for a city that is usually reserved for a person, or maybe I’d just forgotten. But something about Barcelona resonated with my spirit and electrified my soul. It left my whole being echoing awe. The lucid memories keep me coming back to a city that let me taste infinity, that filled me with light brighter than even its most dazzling rays of sunshine.


The only reason I ended up in Barcelona was because it was cheaper to fly through Spain to get to Morocco. In fact, I was only supposed to be there for one full day, but as it turns out, it was cheaper to stay for three full days and leave a little later than planned.

It was my friend’s first and last day in Barcelona; she was leaving for Morocco, but I was staying for two more days. Her demands were the Gaudí trifecta: the houses, the Sagrada Família, and Park Güell. The day was spent rushing to and fro on the Metro, as well as taking some time to wander around the Plaça de Catalunya and browse the antique markets near the Roman Catholic Archdiocese.

The afternoon transitioned into evening and we took the Metro to Lesseps, the stop just nearby the park. We started walking in the direction that seemed correct according to the not-very-detailed map our hostel had given us. We walked and walked, but all we saw were rows of buildings. The area we were in was Barcelona’s Montmartre – incredibly hilly with enchanting views of the city. And we were mostly lost, but I didn’t care.

It was just before sunset, the sky overcast and the streets mostly deserted. The half-gloom showed an arcane side of Barcelona – something private, hidden away to the everyday tourist. It invoked the feeling that in Barcelona lay a richness that you had to attune yourself to. It was there, if you were willing to be still and listen. Among the faded house fronts and rolling pavement, we remained alone. In the quiet, the city opened itself to us. The breath of Barcelona hung in the air.



4 thoughts on “Something private, something hidden

  1. Pingback: Everything is new | Late Nights & Early Parades

  2. Pingback: How to reconcile myself | Late Nights & Early Parades

  3. Pingback: Where the bells toll | rita v.

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