"Camino de la Rambla, las paredes y las tiendas se iban volviendo grises y reservadas, como quien se arregla las mangas y los puños después de una pelea. En la boca de la calle de la Unió, las mesas de la Orxateria Valenciana sudaban el azúcar, las chufas y la modestia de cuatro generaciones. Eran las siete de la tarde y hacía un calor repentino de mes de junio. En la Rambla, lo que a él le parecía más humano y más comprensivo eran los claveles reventando las paradas de las floristas, y las bolas de los vientres de los gorriones en las ramas de los árboles"
Vida privada, Josep Maria de Sagarra (1932)
La Rambla is operating at half-speed between construction work and Christmas lights. A closed Liceu full of sparkles watches passersby drawing mosaics of contrasts and of what is seen and what is not, before turning onto Carrer de la Unió. Far from the Eixample of the Lloberolas, the street remains where it was, piercing the Raval in an unusual, perfectly straight layout. Along a good stretch, a cold, windowless wall rises, disguising itself as the side of the Liceu. Many things seem to be what they are not on this street, just as when Ferran Lloberola from Sagarra walked it. Like then, many elements that make up the street seem to have a hidden side. Phone case shops, premises under construction, bazaars, a doorway that hides a secret. A neighbor walking her dog shows it to us: behind some anodyne wrought-iron doors, an imposing stately entrance, hidden from the street, rises with large, peeling neoclassical columns. "They say it belonged to a palace of the Marquis of Barberà," explains the neighbor, who has lived in the building for 40 years. At the top of some steep stairs, an elevator and color samples for repainting. Once outside, bearers of green bags from the bazaars suddenly fix their gaze, as if scrutinizing something that catches their attention.