I have lived in this city throughout various marriages: in an attic near the Nápoles cinema ---which is now the Phenomena--- and in a main floor in La Sagrera, in front of the Pegaso park, where there was a bar that drove me crazy with love, because it was called "Brilsto II", which suggested that a primordial "Brilsto" (not a "Bristol") existed. I lived for a long time on a second floor on Viladomat street, with its hydraulic floors and what we call, in Barcelona's real estate jargon, "fronts and backs". In it, now, my mother-in-law lives (who decided to afflict me by putting in parquet). Nowadays, I could say that I go to Barcelona every day of the world for "leisure and business", and I wouldn't be entirely lying, but I fear that the first part of the phrase would fall short and the second, on the other hand, would be a tremendous exaggeration.
I like this city, because when I left the village for it, my father warned me: "Go, go to Barcelona! And you'll see that there, no one greets each other! No one knows each other!". The fact is that I found out, with immense and perfect joy, that he was right. Frank Sinatra said that New York is "the city that never sleeps" and I believe that Barcelona is the city that "always sleeps the hours it should". No more, no less. I like it. I like to trace with my fingers the facade of the church of Sant Felip Neri, because there are the bites of the shrapnel from a bomb of the "nationals", during the Civil War. I like Aribau street, because a few cocktail bars are concentrated there. El Ideal, which has a painting of the old owner and founder, Don Gotarda senior, El Tándem, Dry Martini, with its machine to count the dry martinis they have been serving since they opened, and Solange; which used to be Harry's. Through all those bars, until death took her away, a creature of the night used to wander: "Violeta, the donkey", with her wig, her big shoes, her castanets, her CDs and those roses she tried to sell to customers with compliments.
I like this city, because when I left the village for it, my father warned me: "Go, go to Barcelona! And you'll see that there, no one greets each other! No one knows each other!"I like to show "La Granja", on Banys Nous street, to tourists because there ---it used to be a dairy farm--- there is a section of the Roman wall, which you can touch. I like the doll (the "ninot") at the Ninot market, because any Barcelonian under 12 years old thinks that what it has in its hand is a mobile phone. I like, if I have to catch a train at Sants station, to go beforehand to have a hot serrano ham sandwich with butter at Viduca, on Elisi street, right next door, because the two Catalan-Galician brothers who run it are very friendly, cook like angels, and the younger one, named Joan, prepares "Joan-tonics" for you.
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I like the "cafés con leche" in a glass at Pinocho, in La Boquería, because "café con leche" in a glass reminds me of street markets. I like the bearded homeless man who asks for alms with his canine friend, in front of the kiosk on Calvet street with Tenor Viñas, because afterwards, with the collection, he has a beer and a sandwich at Granja Catalunya, right next door (the dog always gets its piece of sausage). I like Samba Brasil, which is a very simple bar, with a metal counter, on Lepanto street, with a cheerful owner like few others, Brazilian, who prepares unbeatable caipirinhas in a Duralex glass (as it should be). I like "Tintorería Infanta", on Entença street, because I imagine that the name is a vestige of Infanta Carlota street.
I like to go up to the Mnac, because from there ---and excuse me, because I thought I wouldn't say the phrase I'm about to say until I was seventy years old--- "there are wonderful views". You sit on the stairs and see the two Venetian towers, from the 29 Exhibition, which imitate ---and I can't help but love this--- the bell tower of San Marcos in Venice. I like, I really enjoy imitations (I got married in Las Vegas accompanied by an imitation Elvis, of course). Furthermore, these copied towers remind me of the start of the Barcelona Marathon, right down there. Those of us who have done it always have a special section that we hate and one that we love, because you never grasp a city as much as when you run through it. I ---like everyone else--- hate the Meridiana section, because it's an out-and-back (that's where the 21 kilometers hit you; the "half"). And the one I prefer, even though you're already dead, because it's the end, is Paralelo, which goes up a bit, but which seems like the Tourmalet to you, in those moments.
I like, I am very amused by imitations (I got married in Las Vegas accompanied by an imitation Elvis, of course)I like, in short, that the Poliorama theater has a door that leads directly to the Viena (now, due to Covid, it is closed). I like the street of Sin, for its name, and because Gato Pérez talked about it in the song "Un amor en cada bar". I like the two roundabouts on Tarradellas avenue, one in front of the other, because it madly amuses me to see sushi pass by in boats (but also croquettes and escalope, and unlucky pineapple dishes, that go round and round because nobody takes them). I like the small convenience store inside the Sarrià train station ---"Small Supermarket", it's called--- because on the window they have written, to avoid misunderstandings, a notice that makes me smile under my mask: "Normal price". I like, I really like, the color of Barcelona taxis.