Nou Barris, is every day really Sunday here?

Nou Barris, is every day really Sunday here?

I went on Saturday with my friend Tyg, he is leaving Barcelona, returning to Dublin, and wanted to visit his old haunts.

An excuse to wander around like eegits taking photos.

Nou Barris might not seem like the obvious choice, I definitely thought so. I was not keen on it, mostly because I avoid the metro like the plague. But in the end it was quite bearable and even productive.

But  then I have strong opinions about street  photography these days. Essentially what’s the point?

I reckon everyday these days more photos are taken than in the entire history of pre digital photography.

So, even it you take a great image and post it on-line, in a New York minute it will be buried and forgotten under a tsunami of shite.

And I have not even really factored in all the Ai crap starting to bury the tsunami of digital shite that proceeded it.

God we  are all fucked.

But anyway… Nou Barris!

Everyday is Sunday. Like I said.

That’s how it felt last Saturday. Kind of sleepy.

And though one of Barcelona’s more humble barrios, I think quite charming, definitely not run down, far from it.

The purveyors of civic works had a field day here with municipal art installations.

And they are actually quite cool, like giant wooden potato peelers.

The area around the central square was also quite elegant and well maintained. I was quite inspired.

There is also an area that really reminded me of places in Central/South America.

A mini neighbourhood with rows of small houses, all single floor, bugger all activity on the street but secret lives in full swing behind the net curtains.

A kid’s birthday party that sounded it might be worth crashing. You just knew the adults had a stash of booze hidden somewhere.

There are also so pretty eccentric apartment blocks. Something soviet about them.

They could easily work in some low budget dystopian sci-fi film.

The weather was good but there autumn felt present in a much more tangible way than in the centre. There were quite a few trees with leaves turning red and this with the quiet feel of everything was kind of melancholic.

And then my camera battery died and once again I realised that taking photos with an iPhone just isn’t the same, no matter what people tell you.

So time to call it a day and take the underground railroad home.