A night of music in El Born

I have been going to Barcelona, Spain, for longer than I can remember. Every year, there seems to be at least one conference there, sometimes two, that I am required to attend. I have even been three times in the same year.

The city is large enough and diverse enough that it never becomes tedious or commonplace. You just get to know it better and better, delving deeper and deeper into the neighbourhoods that surround the tourist-filled middle.

One Friday night, after a particularly long day, I headed off in a direction that was entirely new to me, heading down streets in the El Born district that were utterly unfamiliar. I do not know what dragged me on but I went further and further away from the familiar, all the while wondering whether my curiosity would be rewarded.

As I crossed a square, I heard something far off in the distance that sounded like a rhythmical beat, but it was hard to tell among the echoes that reverberated around the narrow streets. A turn a corner and the sound turned into a riotous, musical clatter.

I was inexorably drawn towards it, no matter the tiredness that pinched at my feet. It led me along darkened side streets and around blind and twisted turns until I came across a square bursting with light, sound and energy.

This is what I heard.