Barcelona’s bustling, tree-lined Ramblas

Barcelona’s bustling, tree-lined Ramblas boulevard is a boisterous fusion of noise, colour, and activity. Herds of pedestrians push their way past, the squawking menageries at the exotic bird stalls and the bright, sweet smelling flower stalls. Circles of spectators form around dancing, juggling and fire-eating street entertainers . Human statues stand silent watch as teenage Moroccan bag-snatchers weave through the crowds and, at the port end, a handful of dumpy, cheap prostitutes pitch for business.
I know of not other city where a single street is so important. From sex shops and souvenir stalls to the opera house and, in la Boqueria, the best fresh food market in Spain.. Las Ramblas caters – in one way or another – for the most elemental desires of life. This is where Barcelona celebrates, protests and riots. Built over the course of a stinking stream once known as the Cagalell – the Stream of Shit – it is, more importantly, where Barcelona meets itself. For it is almost impossible, in one of the densest cities in the Mediterranean, for one Barcelonés to walk down Las Ramblas without seeing another he or she knows.
From the book ‘Ghosts of Spain’ By Giles Tremet