Barcelona, Spain: The Joy of Being Alive Again

A City That Wakes Me Up Inside

I visited Barcelona last year, and it made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t felt for years. This year, it did the same. The city holds something that stirs the soul: maybe it is the light, or the rhythm of its streets, or the easy warmth of people who seem unhurried by time. Whatever it is, Barcelona has a way of reminding me that I am still here, still capable of joy.

Arriving in Stillness

Spain arrived like a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. After months of routine and responsibility, it felt like a gentle rebellion, a space where I didn’t have to lead, plan, or guide anyone. I could simply follow, wander, and let life unfold on its own terms.

Strangers Who Became Friends

Most of the participants I met were from South Africa and Eastern Europe, warm, grounded, and full of life. We spoke about home, culture, and the stories that shaped us. We laughed easily, and within hours, strangers had become companions. There was something liberating in the effortless connection: no titles, no roles, no walls, just people meeting where joy resides.

Mornings of Quiet Abundance

Breakfast at the hotel became my favourite ritual, the highlight of every morning. There was something comforting about that quiet abundance: warm coffee, fruit glistening like jewels, freshly baked bread, and the easy kindness of strangers sharing the same space. Each morning felt like an invitation to begin again, slowly and with joy.

The Taste of the Sea

Later, by the beachside café, I tried real Spanish food after a long time with my new friends. The seafood paella was unforgettable. The taste of saffron and the sea seemed to merge into something both simple and divine. The air smelled of salt and sun, and time felt softer there, unmeasured.

Being Prepared

I didn’t fall sick, not once, which felt like a small miracle. I had packed my emergency medicines, and when someone else began to feel unwell, I shared them. That small act of offering help and seeing it received with gratitude carried its own quiet satisfaction.

Learning to Wander Again

There was joy in the smallest things: letting someone else decide where to go, losing my way through the narrow streets, and taking a cab back instead of figuring out the trains or metro. There was no need to rush or optimise the day. For once, it was enough to just be, to feel the city’s pulse instead of managing it.

One day, I set out alone to visit the Sagrada Família and took a taxi to get there. When I finally reached the basilica, its towers glowed in the late afternoon sun, each detail carved with impossible grace. I stood quietly, taking it in from the outside, feeling both small and whole at once.

On the way back, while trying to find the metro, I got a little lost, wandering through side streets that seemed to unfold endlessly in every direction. Yet even that felt right, to be lost in a city that welcomed me so gently. So I decided to take a taxi back to the hotel instead.

Before leaving, I bought small pieces of memorabilia from the street vendors nearby: tokens of the moment, reminders of a day when getting lost felt like coming home to myself.

Moments of Wonder

Then came the final evening, the last day of the conference. I joined a few of my young friends and took the Telefèric de Montjuïc up over the city. From above, Barcelona shimmered: the sea, the rooftops, the slow pulse of a living city stretching to the horizon. We laughed, took photos, and let the wind lift our spirits. Everything felt lighter from that height, as if the world itself was inviting us to dream a little higher.

Dancing at the Fountains

We then had dinner and waited for 9:00 p.m. to go together to the fountain show in front of the castle. Tired but happy, we stood together as the air turned warm and alive with music. When the lights began to dance across the water, so did we, six of us from different countries, laughing and moving to the rhythm of the fountains. It was spontaneous, pure, and full of life. In that moment, I wasn’t a lecturer, a researcher, or a traveller, just a soul dancing with others under the Spanish sky.

Goodbyes in the Glow of Night

As the show ended, we made our way back through the city, parting at different metro stations. Each goodbye felt soft, the kind that carries gratitude rather than sadness. We waved, promised to stay in touch, and disappeared into the glow of the night.

I remember smiling to myself in the cab ride back to the airport in the middle of the night, tired, sun-kissed, and full of a quiet kind of joy.

What Barcelona Leaves Behind

Barcelona gave me more than memories; it gave me a return to myself again. It reminded me that I can still connect, still laugh, still belong anywhere I choose to open my heart. It reminded me that freedom isn’t about escape; it is about presence, about trusting the flow and allowing life to surprise you.

When I think of Barcelona now, I think of laughter by the fountains, conversations in the heat, kindness between strangers, the view from above, finding my way to the Sagrada Família and then getting lost afterward, and the shimmering joy of remembering what it feels like to be fully, vibrantly alive.

And then I returned to Luton, and got COVID-19's new variant. took me over 2 weeks to get better. So, this post comes a bit late!