An unexpected journey behind Barcelona.

“It’s ugly. Too many tower blocks,” declared Maria in rapid Spanish. As an opening line on her home town, it seemed rude to agree. Gazing resignedly through the window’s wrought iron bars, it appeared that our cultural city break to Barcelona was to become an immersion experience into suburban Spain.
Detained a neighbourhood away from Gaudi’s soaring genius, the high-rise jumble of Rubi’s skyline proffered small compensation. Our movements were to be restrained by the whims of our custodians and the limitations of our pidgin Spanish.
Propelled into the back of a car, a presentation of Rubi’s hidden depths ensued. Quietly contemplating the town’s most prominent sculpture - a stark, riverside memorial to unbelievably catastrophic flash floods of fifty years earlier, the noise hit us unexpectedly. Blaring horns. Vibrant chants. A colourful, banner-wielding crowd blockaded the Town Hall. “Una manifestación contra la crisis,” explains José, pulling the wheel sharply to take us careering into the rapidly opening mouth of an inconspicuous garage door. The crusaders against this generation’s economic disaster faded temporarily into the background.
Safely inside, the warm embrace of our host’s extended family provided heartfelt relief. An indulgent, multi-generational Catalan feast was launched. Generously sated, our tour progressed to what I had thought to be the broom cupboard. “La Bodega” Jose proudly announced, descending the narrow staircase. His skill as a master craftsman was etched into every brick. A lifetime’s collection of antique and childhood tools lined the walls. Photos mapped family celebrations across decades and continents. A giant TV screen devoted to the battles of FC Barcelona took centre stage. This room was much more than a wine cellar or well stocked bar. It was a cornerstone of family life.
We did finally break out to Barcelona’s hotspots, yet our growing affection for Rubi was cemented by a chance encounter on the steps of Barcelona’s Cathedral. “El Padre Juan!” announced Maria, leaping up the steps to grab the attention of an elderly and momentarily bewildered passer-by. Astonishingly, we were introduced to the very priest who had married them many decades earlier in Rubi’s ancient and remarkably beautiful church.
Willingly rejecting Barcelona’s bars, we savoured a home brewed fiesta, celebrating the bonds of family, friendship and shared histories that fortify Spain’s ability to withstand times of crisis.