First, it was “Vicky Cristina Barcelona.” Then the insatiable sounds of Paco de Lucia. Then, it was the slew of books on Catalonia that caught by eye today at Barnes & Noble. I don’t know what it is, but it seems like Barcelona has been calling out my name for a few weeks. Of course, I can understand why – It wasn’t only where I officially met my boyfriend some 6 years ago, it was also the first destination on my traveling agenda since I made an official “places to go” list in high school.

by moriza

It’s a gorgeous, vibrant city that’s full of life, even at 2 a.m. where the streets are still bustling with people enjoying a stroll or having sangria at their favorite cafe. You feel the passion pumping through its veins, in the buildings, in the people, in the food. I loved it there, so it wasn’t a surprise when we both decided to visit again a few years later.

Though we stayed at a hotel the first time around, we decided to go the more authentic route and rent an apartment for almost two weeks the second time. It was tucked away on an ancient street, up a few flights of stairs, with the most vintage looking door lock I had ever seen, but it was gorgeous – perfect for a young couple.

by alexcastella

We saw the Sagrada Familia by Gaudi, spent time at the Barcelona Zoo, had breakfast at Bracafe on Ronda Sant Antoni, had lunch at Ovni, shopped at Bershka and went online at Bornet.

I remember La Rambla and little white bunnies being sold, street performers and content tourists. At the end of La Rambla, near Port Vell – the Christopher Columbus monument and a swap meet that we would never forget, full of the kind of ancient knick knacks you could only dream of finding in the States.  I remember sitting by the coast, with a bag of sweets from the Mercat La Boqueria (below) enough for two to share.

by uriba

It was full of the kind of candy assortment I loved – sour belts, gummy worms, everything that’s so bad it’s good. I placed the bag between us, and chewed away at a worm while watching the water sway back and forth, as if it was dancing to Spanish guitar music. He reached down in the bag and pulled out a gummy heart. I held one end and he held the other as it split down the middle, a piece for each. We didn’t need to talk. We just sat there together, eating, occasionally puckering up at the jolt of flavor from the sour belts. We were just being, and it was nice.

by brokurdotnet

I can’t describe the type of gravitational pull Barcelona has. It only makes sense to say that it changes you, it lets you breathe and let go of “rush, rush, rush” mentality that we’re so used to in the U.S and especially in Los Angeles. “Just relax, just live and let live,” Barcelona says. “Stay up till 2 a.m, here – have some sangria while you’re at it, be creative and most of all, love your life.”

Of course, Barcelona, like any city doesn’t remain unscathed from criticism. It gets hot and humid – a disaster scenario for the hair of most women. It has its seedy parts and part of the reason why I don’t have any of my own photos for this post is because our camera was stolen while we were browsing in an internet cafe.

I haven’t experienced quite the same feeling of being in Barcelona elsewhere. It’s different. It lets your mind flourish – perfect for a writer or artist. It allows you to stop and really absorb all that’s going on around you, and that’s a quality that I will forever appreciate in this city.

by aikijuanma