Antonio Gaudí is not someone I’ll forget easily. When I explored this wonderfully clean and vibrant city, I never knew quite where the artistic hand and unfettered genius of this remarkably gifted man would pop up. His architectural creations are, quite simply, unavoidable.

Roaming around Las Ramblas, the city’s best-known landmark, inhaling the smell of tapas and paella, caught up in the strolling crowd, I stumbled across the Güell Palace. Designed by Gaudí for a rich industrialist and subdued by the architect’s standards, there is but a hint of what was to come from the pen of the great man.

Pausing on the Passeig de Gràcia, my eye was deceived by Casa Batllo’s complete lack of edges and corners. At ground level, huge pillars resemble the feet of some giant elephant. The roof reminded me of the backbone of a gigantic dinosaur. Between the two, a number of small, elegantly curved balconies glue themselves to the front of the house like birds’ nests on a cliff face. I was amazed at the colours and intricacy of the building; blues, golds and purples. Casa Mila – known as ‘The Quarry’ by Barcelonians – was even more astonishing. At least Gaudí acknowledged the straight line again. It reminded me of those steep cliff walls in which African tribes build cave-like dwellings.

But none of these prepared me for the sight of Sagrada Familia, Gaudi’s unfinished pièce de résistance. A mélange of spires and vaulted ceilings, the cathedral would not be out of place in War of the Worlds. It’s a pity Gaudi didn’t live to see his masterpiece finished. Started in 1882, it will take 144 years to complete, by which time he would have been 174 years old!

Next time, I’ll visit his other wonderful creations.

Full to overflowing with Gaudí, I hopped on a bus and checked out Camp Nou, Barcelona’s Football Club’s stadium, at that time about to celebrate its fiftieth birthday. With a capacity close to 99,000 and exterior reminiscent of a Roman amphitheatre, Camp Nou saw its glory days under the coaching eye of Dutch football legend Johan Cruyff. Unfortunately, on the day of my visit it was closed to the public. Next time, I’ll plant my feet in the centre of the pitch, and imagine how Cruyff felt, pride swelling his chest, as his dream team ran out on the hallowed turf.

Still in a sporting frame of mind, my next stop was the Olympic Stadium. Thankfully, it was open! In 1992, the stadium hosted the Olympic Games, an event which redefined the face of modern Barcelona. Originally constructed in 1929 to host the World Fair, the stadium fell into disrepair until restored for the Games.

Next time, I’ll take some better photos.

Culturally and sportingly satiated, I returned to Port Vell, the old Barcelona port at the bottom of the Ramblas, beyond the Columbus Monument. Previously a rundown area of neglected buildings, fly tips and railway yards, the port is now a yacht basin and entertainment centre, featuring an IMAX theatre and huge aquarium. Hunger set in, and I crossed Rambla de Mar, the big, wooden bridge that connects the Ramblas with Maremàgnum, a complex full of shops, cinemas, bars and restaurants.

Next time, I won’t eat and drink so much.

But in a city where the sun shines, the sound of the sea is soothing, and people are so friendly, it’s impossible not to chill out, observe passers-by, and imbibe an ice-cold beer . . . or two.

Salud!

**This short Travel Story was submitted as part of the Holiday Travel Writing Competition. All short-listed entries such as this one are published in our online Travel Guide**

Story written by Paul Chiwick | Since 2006 Holiday Velvet offers Accommodation in Barcelona.