As I stepped off the plane and into the vibrant city of Barcelona, I felt a thrill of excitement. This wasn’t just any vacation; it was a literary pilgrimage inspired by Carlos Ruiz Zafón’s enchanting novel, The Shadow of the Wind. My mission? To find the elusive Cemetery of Forgotten Books, a place that had captured my imagination since the first time I read about it. A hidden bookstore where you walk in to select a single book and you walk out with your bookish soul mate.
Barcelona greeted me with its warm Mediterranean breeze and the bustling energy of ancient coble stone streets. The city’s Gothic architecture and narrow, winding streets seemed to whisper secrets from the past. Armed with google map on my phone, pass card to use the metro and memories of reading The Shadow of the Wind, I set out to explore the four corners of the city that had become a character in its own right within the pages of the book.
Yes, Yes, Yes, I know that The Cemetery of Forgotten Books is fictional and probably doesn’t exist. For me, I wasn’t searching for a physical place but the state of the mind that imagined it. Here I was, In the birth place of Carlos Ruiz Zafón, experiencing the sights, smells and tastes that had stimulated his imagination. Clearly he loved this city. Clearly he loved books in general. After all his novel has a novel inside of it. A story within a story.
My first stop was the Gothic Quarter, a labyrinth of cobblestone streets and hidden courtyards. I wandered through the ancient alleys, imagining Daniel Sempere’s footsteps echoing alongside mine. The Gothic Quarter was a place where history and mystery intertwined, and I couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation with every turn.
One of my favorite past times whenever travelling is to wander about, allowing myself to get lost. See where my feet take me. Along my journey’s I encountered many bookstores and walked into every single one. I love browsing books even when I don’t know the language. I derive pleasure from the simple act of it. I didn’t buy anything because all the books were in either Catalan or Spanish. However, my friends who live in Barcelona gifted me two books. Homage to Catalonia by George Orwell and Barcelona Bestiary, Poems by Josef Carner. I haven’t read them yet. But who knows? Perhaps one of these books turns out to be my bookish soul mate.
In my wandering of the city of Barcelona, I couldn’t help but notice the number of flags of Palestine I noticed all over. Hanging from a balcony, printed on a banner or painted in graffiti form on a wall. At some point I stopped photographing my spotting of the Palestinian flag because there were too many. I was deeply touched by it. I couple of times I burst into tears. So heartwarming to find out that people wish for freedom for people half way around the world from them.
Fun Fact: I by accident appeared on the local TV. You can see the evidence here. I am at the 00:01:30 mark of the beginning of the video. Imagine my surprise when my friends who live in Barcelona sent me the link.
I have been in Spain several times in the past. As a child with my family. As a grownup pursuing my flamenco dance dream. And now at this point. It’s interesting to me how my experience of it changes as I change. A visit to Spain seems to be a marker of my growth. Will have to do some reflection upon it and write about it with more depth. I did write about some of my adventures in Spain in the past.
My feet are battered from all the walking, but my soul feels nourished.
Thank you, Barcelona.
