The apartment was small. There was a bedroom and a kitchen with a horrible black marble table.
The real estate agent looked at me with an analytical eye. The flat was old and had to be cold in winter and hot in summer. But he was smart. And like children that hold the best part of the meal till the end, he said:
- And now the best piece..
He began to climb a rickety wooden ladder. I followed him hesitant. And it was in that moment that I fell in love with that ramshackle house. The first thing I saw were seagulls. They glided over my head shouting like a docking ship. Then the heat of the sun bouncing off the white walls and terracotta terrace, blinding eyes and caressing the skin. An explosion of light, the rosy light of Mediterranean sunset embraced all the roofs of that Barcelona which from the very moment I landed it had seemed darker, duller. And then there was the sea, the whispering sea that was all one with the slow sloping green Montjuïc right until the MNAC.
- Isn’t it an incredible view? Further down there are the Cathedral’s spire and the Pi Tower. And those spikes that lay beyond belong to the Sagrada Família’s pinnacles. Can you see that angel on top of the dome? It’s the ancient Mercè church. What do you think?
I could not say anything. I had a lump in my throat. But I didn’t want to cry, not in front of that man. I only nodded. I rented the flat.

Sebina Pulvirenti