It's Saturday and the neighborhood is waking up. As the weekend begins, Sant Antoni dawns to the rhythm of that early watering that draws humid sinuosities along the sidewalks. Before dawn fully draws back its curtain, the newsstand owner stacks newspapers and magazines in perfect polyhedrons. As soon as the sun rises, long queues begin to form in front of the most popular bakeries, like infinite lines of ellipses separated by the safety distance. A little later, the market opens its doors, causing spirals of lively neighbors who chat and fill their baskets from stall to stall. As the morning progresses, all the corners around the axes of the building designed by Rovira i Trias become inhabited. The mosaics that adorn its facade contrast with the loud geometric signs that delimit the new pedestrian areas generated by the first Superilles intervention in the Eixample.
The overlapping triangles that stand out on the pavement in vivid yellow and orange tones allude to the shape of the neighborhood; although in reality the polygonal line that connects the limits of Sant Antoni (Gran Via from Plaza España to Universitat, Ronda Sant Antoni, Ronda Sant Pau, and Paral·lel avenue to Plaza España) refers more to an arrowhead. The action plan for the Superilla model, agreed upon with representative entities of the neighborhood, has resulted in a new square at the confluence of Borrell with Parlament, and also extends its area to part of Tamarit and Manso streets. In these colored neo-pedestrian zones, one can see wooden bleachers, concentric lines, tables with chessboards, cubic planters, hopscotch games, picnic areas, and circular stone benches.
All these lines and reliefs on the shoulder join the concentric circles, aligned dots, and winding lanes that have for some time animated the concrete promenade enabled in Ronda Sant Antoni as a result of the market reforms. For now, the structural axis around Comte Borrell has allowed the conquest of nearly 24,000 m² of public space for pedestrians, in a radiation that aims to reach the entire district.
The City Council has announced that it wants to turn the Eixample into a large Superilla. The idea is to create green axes that will generate 21 new squares at the intersections of Consell de Cent with Rocafort, Consell de Cent with Borrell, and Consell de Cent with Enric Granados, among others. This project aims to add more than 30 kilometers of pacified areas, appealing to a modern revision of the Cerdà Plan. Just as the engineer Ildefons Cerdà proposed in 1860 to deploy the Eixample as a giant grid aired by 45º chamfers, with the idea of reducing the excessive concentration of housing, in post-pandemic Barcelona the same is intended to be done in order to reduce car traffic. Citizen health will improve thanks to the reduction of emissions and the creation of new green areas from the classic chamfers.
The Sant Antoni Superilla represents the first step towards the great transformation of the Eixample, inspired by the Cerdà PlanLittle could Cerdà imagine that his geometric and airy public spaces would end up being the ideal environment for young cyborgs, nomadic chess players, LGTBI+ entities, statues influencers, and can devourers.
Species in dispersion
Little by little, the neighborhood fills up. By the time the sun is highest, the neighborhood's fauna has long been indulging in the joys of vermouth hour. Around the octagonal dome of the market and on the colored shapes that delimit the Superilla, new colonizing species emerge, intermingling with the usual neighborhood hustle and bustle, in a perpetual conquest of space. It is then that we can contemplate a growing blossoming of diverse creatures, and hear that uncoordinated orchestra of toasts, songs, and laughter on benches, landings, and sidewalks. Among families eager for a stroll, aseptic skaters, wandering junkies, diligent tik tokers, distracted grandmothers, boisterous children, platoons of teenagers, and some lucky tourists, a lush ecosystem is formed that extends orderly to invade every vertex of the large triangle-arrow.
On the particular board of the current Sant Antoni, figures as prominent as the open-air chess players are carefully arranged, engrossed in eternal games on the marble tables of Comte Borrell. It is advisable not to occupy one of those public seats even if we see it empty. Quickly, these fundamentalists of the squares will set in motion their elaborate plot to checkmate us so that we look for another place for our behind. Nearby, two young skaters with 90s looks repeat a circular ceremony. The first practices an aesthetic jump that culminates on the rear axle of the skateboard. His companion follows him on his own board, recording the entire choreography with his mobile. Taking advantage of the Superilla furniture, groups of friends huddle on benches and stands, finishing off cans and bottles, cushioning the blow with a slice of Pizzeria Mimmo's or some splendid donut from La Donutería.
Here and there, instagrammers can be seen striking the most unnatural pose possible, in communion with some unreal filter. A neighbor contemplates the scene astonished, without realizing that during his hesitation he could have been run over by several of those fleeting skaters who glide along the sidewalks, dodging bodies with an absent gesture, oblivious to any form of life. All this scenery can be seen in detail from crowded terraces like that of Sucursal Aceitera. With luck, you might try some Km 0 olives before excusing yourself from the continuous stream of less fortunate people who come to ask you "a little help, please." Modern and tasteful places like Sucursal or the famous Federal Café have contributed to Sant Antoni's recent success, although the neighborhood's great treasures are found in veteran establishments like the legendary Bar Ramón, which elevates the soul with blues, meatballs, and grandma's cod; or La Bodega d'en Rafel, a hotbed of good atmosphere and homemade food.
Without going any further, at the Bar Bodega Gol, the splendid contrast between the classic and the new is consummated. Neil Harbisson, the boy with the antenna on his head, settles on the terrace of the old bar while his friends with fringes on their masks idly order a round of beers and peppers. Nearby is the headquarters of his cyborg association, Transpecies Society. It is the most outsider exponent of the neighborhood's particular associative fabric, with indispensable elements such as Sant Antoni Comerç, the Centre Cívic Cotxeres Borrell, and the Centre LGTBI+ de Barcelona.
Curiously, the Barcelona City Council likes to call the area around the Superilla a "pacified zone," but at times a considerable racket is organized there. As evening falls, conversations get louder and trap begins to resonate. You can even hear a monumental karaoke, improvised on the small wooden stage. The girl singing is terribly out of tune, but they still chorus and encourage her with applause.
On weekend afternoons, trap plays, the animation gets louder, and monumental karaokes are improvisedThe animation rises to levels oflikingcolossal, to the point of forgetting pandemics and restrictions. Although they do not reach the levels ofraveof the afternoons of 2021 in the Passeig del Born, the festive atmosphere in the squares of Sant Antoni tends towards a crescendo that could be infinite. But they evaporate when blue sirens appear to eclipse that slight insurrection of lowered masks and street joys.
Bodies in change
During the week, the neighborhood continues to overflow with life, but its pulse is different. If there's time, nothing beats starting the day with a coffee prepared by Genaro at Il Capriccio del Caffè, or trying one of the splendid tortilla skewers on the terrace of Bar Mañé Cafè.
In the afternoons, it's not a bad idea to treat yourself to some oriental, Latin, or Italian marvel from the cosmos of varieties offered by the Supermercat del Món, or let yourself be seduced by the toasted aromas that irresistibly invite you into Cafès Roure. The possibilities for relaxed leisure also seem infinite, from a session at the already legendary Cines Renoir Floridablanca to a fruitful visit to stock up on fun and readings at the ultra-ingenious La Llama Store or the sharp Llibreria Calders, located in the passage that unleashed the neighborhood's hipster big bang.
Like a teenager overcoming a period of trauma and acne, Sant Antoni proudly displays its new body, still incomplete. Beyond complexes, the neighborhood is aware of its great attributes, but also aligns itself with its flaws. In this age of definitive change, fences and construction still plague its sidewalks, but the neighborhood finds its internal breathing in the interior courtyards, which function like pulmonary alveoli. Its charm extends to calm areas like Avinguda Mistral, or perpetuates its effervescence in hot spots like that underworld created daily on the lower floor of the Mercat de Sant Antoni, where modern urban choreographies can be seen in front of Roman remains.
And so it continues until another weekend arrives and more vignettes of curious people appear in front of the stalls of the Sunday market, early mornings with silhouettes outlined from the tributaries of Raval, and new three-dimensional recreations through streets and squares. In the background, a soundtrack of shutters closing and opening again plays on a loop, like a metronomic and constant pulse.