There is one place in Barcelona where you will not only eat fish but also live a seldom experience in your hectic citylife. Close your eyes and imagine yourself in a tiny and remote fish restaurant on the border of the Mediterranean Sea. It could well be in the Provence closeby, in Italy or in even Greece. Nonetheless, that one place is right behind the Born market and is called La Paradeta (map here), curiously standing there in sharp contrast with all the trendy shops and restaurants characterising the area.

You see… One thing I really appreciate about Barcelona is that wherever you may go you will find this “neighbourhood feel” that any other large European city cannot offer you. For instance, you may only understand half of what your baker is saying but you like to think you have been knowing him for as long as The Old Lady coming every morning to buy her baguette for the last 50 years. Later during the day, you may be walking ten minutes away from the hectic Ramblas and find yourself wandering around remote places that could well be located in a small town in the Catalan outback. Eventually, you may have the chance to randomly find places like La Paradeta where the wonderful simplicity characterising the Mediterranean culture holds at its best. (or to get to know it through a friend of a friend )

Do not look for a sophisticated atmopshere or an elaborate menu. In fact, you will not be offered much choice :a few different species of fish and sea food and one single type of salad). Besides, if you are not Mediterranean, you may feel a little rushed and disoriented by the service in this Grand Bazar. Nonetheless, what you will find here is what one can live for: fresh and relatively economic food, a lively crowd and an authentic Mediterranean magic touch enchanting the atmosphere of this unique place.

Arrive early to avoid the line.  Forget about lunch during the week, they only do dinners.

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Barcelona is not Paris. It does not have an Eiffel Tower or canal boats from where you can claim your love loud and clear. Honestly, it has never really been regarded by classic authors as the one place where a lifelong romance is supposed to start. Instead, the flow of tourists invading Barcelona all year round encouraged many to merely associate the city with its wild nightlife and the casual flings you can find along the way. Una lastima.

Nonetheless, after a few months spent in the Catalan capital, you will realise that it really does not have anything to envy to Paris at all. To illustrate this adventurous theory, I will base my reasoning on one Catalan tradition you may know under another name: Sant Jordi (also known as Saint George in England). On April 23rd of every year – as a tribute to William Shakespeare and Miguel de Cervantes – Catalonia celebrate its lovers. The tradition wants that on that day of the year, a man give the woman of his heart red roses while she will/should offer him a book in return. While this must sound just like another marketing trick to complement Valentine’s day, I cannot but use John Paul Young’s words to let you know that “Love is really in the air” on Sant Jordi’s day. Once every year, intrepid Spanish men from all over the Catalan kingdom climb down from their high horses with red roses to celebrate their lady-love. The older ones will go to the women they have loved for years, while their younger counterparts will finally gather their courage to affirm the little crush they have on their neighbours for a few days. Or wait… Could it be the other way around? Anyway, in order to perpetuate the tradition, you will observe local families running small stalls and selling roses on every street corners to make sure no lady is forgotten. Who said romanticism was a French thing? It may well be Catalan…

… At least for a day.

Personal note to my French fellows: One cannot but bow to the Sant Jordi’s tradition. Don’t get me wrong but the only time of the year when a tradition get the French crowd out in the street with flowers is May 1st, la Fete du Muguet. While Catalans are celebrating their lovers with flowers, we are gathering as much as luck as we can on our sides. Well… We may be needing it.

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It is a well known fact that life in Spain can only be complete if it takes place outdoor. Spaniards have always been fond of sipping their daily cortado (or caña…) on the bright terraces of their favourite café every morning. It is not uncommon to see their children playing state-of-art football and celebrating their goals on small and typical plazas from dusk till dawn. Ultimately, how would the myth of the Spanish siesta be credible if it was to happen anywhere but on a sunny and sandy beach?

In the Spanish architecture, such an observation has always been reflected by the presence of large community terraces on the roof of almost every building, whatever their period of construction and no matter the area of town where they are located. Nevertheless, from my experience as an estate agent in Barcelona, I have always been surprised to see that these fantastic open spaces are hardly used by the local population. When they are used, they will be exclusively considered as a place to hang your laundry – as the old lady living up there never forgets to mention when you move into your new place. Odd for a Latin nation, isn’t it? After a few years spent in the British fog and the Canadian drizzle, I can insure you that any opportunity to feel the sun light on my skin is nothing else but a godsend. A small coffee table and four chairs will do the trick.

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