Morning confusion at Barcelona Sants railway station

Yesterday’s change of plans for the day ahead left us with a few open questions, so we got up early and headed to Barcelona Sants railway station, where our train was supposed to take us south.

Right from the start, we were met with a bit of confusion. The departure boards only show final destinations, which makes it hard to get your bearings quickly. Some trains stop at every station, others do not, and I wasn’t entirely sure which one we should take.

I first tried the ticket machines, but without much success. I simply didn’t know what to choose. We then went to the first ticket counter, only to find out that we were in the wrong place.

That counter is reserved for high-speed trains, the ones that run at up to 300 km/h and can get you to Madrid in about two and a half hours. I had no idea Spain even had trains like that.

They sent us to counters 1–4, where tickets for Rodalies are sold. These are regional commuter trains that run across Catalonia.

Children’s tickets turned out to be a story of their own. Even though the kids are 8 and 10 years old, we had to buy adult tickets for them. On Rodalies trains, there are no child discounts. Only children under the age of three travel for free.

All together, I paid €30 for the tickets, which felt rather steep for a local train.

The journey took about an hour. Although the route mostly follows the coast, you don’t actually see much of the sea. There are plenty of tunnels and embankments, so the ride itself isn’t particularly memorable. Still, just before our destination, palm trees finally came into view.

The station in Tarragona is small and feels almost homely, especially after the days we spent in the bustle of a big city.

Now that we were finally there, we took our time over a coffee and calmly worked out what we actually wanted to do.

Tarragona

Tarragona is a modern coastal city where ancient heritage blends into everyday life. It is an important regional centre of Catalonia, a university city, and one of the key industrial areas, mainly because of its strong chemical industry.

When you look out toward the sea, the many cargo ships on the horizon are a quick reminder of that.

From the railway station, the path leads uphill along a pedestrian walkway above the road, leaning against a massive city wall that is more than two thousand years old. After about ten minutes of walking, you reach the top, which is in fact a natural rocky terrace some fifty metres above the sea.

This area is known as the Mediterranean Balcony, and it’s a place where you can simply slow down and take in the view of the Mediterranean Sea.

Tarraco

In Roman times, Tarragona was known as Tarraco and ranked among the most important cities on the Iberian Peninsula, serving as the capital of a Roman province. Today, the city’s archaeological complex is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

You don’t have to go far from the balcony to encounter the next structure from the ancient world. Right at the edge of the cliff, the view opens downward onto the Roman amphitheatre, once used for gladiatorial games and fights between humans and animals.

The amphitheatre in Tarragona is one of the few Roman amphitheatres located by the sea. While it is nowhere near as well preserved as the one in Pula, it once held around 15,000 spectators and had a special feature: the arena opened directly toward the Mediterranean Sea.

The view from the balcony was more than enough for us, so instead of heading down, we continued toward the Praetorium, the former seat of Roman authority. The massive walls rising high above you are reason enough on their own to walk this far.

In Roman times, the Praetorium served as a vertical link between the upper city with its main forum, the middle level with the Roman circus and chariot races, and the lower parts of the city, where the amphitheatre once stood.

Tarraco was built in terraces, thoughtfully and systematically, and that is exactly what makes it special.

Cathedral Basilica of Saint Tecla

Once you’ve had your fill of these walls, the walk continues through narrow stone streets lined with small shops and cosy cafés, where we stopped for a well-earned snack and coffee. After leaving the café, only a few more steps awaited us, climbing a steep staircase that brings the street to an end. Tarragona Cathedral stands at the highest point of the old town, on the site of a former Roman sanctuary. After climbing those final steps, its imposing entrance façade opens up in front of you.

There were few people around, nothing compared to Barcelona. In some of the streets, we were completely alone.

It is precisely this moment, when you emerge almost alone from the narrow streets, slowly climb the steps, and suddenly find yourself standing in front of powerful architecture, that gives travel its meaning. It’s not so much about the landmark itself, but about the feeling. It’s about the path, the place, and how you take it all in together. And when you experience it with your family, even more so.

Castells

On one of the walls near the cathedral, a huge image was displayed, showing celebrations during the feast of Santa Tecla.

They depict castells, the Catalan human towers. It is a tradition more than two hundred years old, originating right here.

The towers are built slowly, layer by layer, with great concentration and complete trust between those involved. The strongest stand at the base, the lightest climb higher, and at the very top a child, usually between five and ten years old, climbs up and raises a hand to signal that the tower has been successfully completed.

Castells were originally meant as an expression of community, cooperation, and perseverance. Today, there are also competitive events, held every two years, right here in Tarragona.

Circus Tarraconensis

In Roman times, Tarragona was home to a large circus, as the horse-racing stadium was known. It could hold up to 30,000 spectators, which was remarkable for a city of that era.

Today, it can only be seen underground, in the preserved tunnels and vaults. Over the centuries, houses, palaces, and streets were built above the circus, leaving most of the structure hidden from view.

During our walk, we came across just one entrance to these tunnels. It was partially closed off with a metal fence and clearly not maintained. We couldn’t find an official entrance, so we gave up and continued through the narrow streets until we reached the long, wide Plaça de la Font.

Its unusual length and flatness quickly make you realise that this was once the straight section of the circus. An inscription on the square confirms it: you are standing directly above the former racing track of the Roman circus.

The Monaco of the Roman World

In Roman times, Tarraco was truly something special. The city combined power, influence, and prestige. It had an amphitheatre with gladiatorial games and views of the Mediterranean Sea, a large circus for chariot races, and a praetorium that served as the seat of Roman authority for the province.

This was not merely a provincial town, but a political and social centre of the Roman world on the Iberian Peninsula. In terms of its role and atmosphere, the closest modern comparison would be Monaco, a place where power, entertainment, and prestige come together, only on a Roman scale.

That Tarraco held a truly exceptional status is also confirmed by the fact that the first Roman emperor, Augustus Octavian, lived here for several years.

Where to next?

On our way downhill, we passed a church that immediately catches the eye with its colour. It is Sant Agustí, whose pink façade stands out among the massive stone buildings around it.

We stopped once more at the Balcón del Mediterráneo to say our goodbyes, then made our way back toward the railway station. Since it was still early afternoon, we felt like visiting one more town. We were choosing between Sitges and Vilanova i la Geltrú.

Sitges is known for its seaside promenade and a somewhat more upscale, touristy atmosphere, or so it was written… Vilanova was said to feel calmer, more local and authentic, with a strong fishing character and a beautiful old town, at least according to what we read online. So how do you choose?

In the end, we chose Vilanova, mainly because of a single photo of the town square that caught my eye. That photo didn’t quite live up to expectations later on, but that’s fine. The town surprised us with other things instead.

Before boarding the train, we also sent off the two postcards we mail on every trip. One goes to my parents, the other to a friend in Denver, Colorado. It has become our small travel tradition, as postcards are slowly turning into an endangered species.

I don’t know how it was possible, but the train took almost an hour, even though the distance was roughly half of what it was between Barcelona and Tarragona, a journey that took the same amount of time. Apparently, alongside high-speed trains, there is also a special category of very slow ones.

Vilanova i la Geltrú

We finally arrived at the station and set off toward the square from that photo. It lies somewhere in the middle of the town, and the streets leading to it are unbelievably long. One of them, Rambla Principal, stretches for almost a kilometre.

Walking along these streets is an experience in itself, especially when you’re used to streets ending much sooner. Although, now that I think about it, Santa Catarina in Porto was also quite long, but there it was packed with tourists. While there were still some visitors in Tarragona, here it felt almost completely empty.

The square from that photo is Plaça de la Vila, the town’s main square, distinguished by its wavy mosaic and rows of palm trees. It feels like a small island in the middle of all those long, straight streets.

The square was filled with New Year’s market stalls, so the mosaic didn’t fully come into its own. Still, we had a look around before continuing along the Rambla toward the beach.

If the streets here are impressive in length, it feels only right that the beach matches them. Before you even reach it, you walk through a park almost 500 metres long, and then the beach of Ribes Roges opens up in front of you.

It’s large, and in a rough way it reminded us of Nazaré in Portugal, where we had been walking just a few months earlier. Apart from a handful of passing walkers, the beach was empty, which felt like a welcome contrast to crowded Barcelona.

The day had been genuinely pleasant. We had seen a lot, walked a lot as well, and somewhere along the way you really start to unwind… right up until the moment we began looking for a suitable place for dinner.

Dinner in the bullring

The first option was fast food, the second a fish-only restaurant, the third far too upscale. That was it. We surrendered. Back on the train to Barcelona, we’d figure something out there.

In the end, we found it where we least expected it, at the top of Arenes. The former bullfighting arena has been transformed into a shopping center. There were several restaurants up there, we chose one, and everyone found something to enjoy: Anja went for salmon, the girls had chicken, and I opted for soup and a steak.

At the top, there is also an observation deck that opens up to a beautiful view of Plaça d’Espanya in the evening, the Venetian Towers, and Montjuïc. All’s well that ends well. The timing was just right to catch one more landmark in this part of the city.

Font Màgica de Montjuïc

As we walked toward the fountain, I couldn’t resist taking a photo from almost the same spot as on New Year’s Eve. It’s hard to believe how many people were there back then.

The Magic Fountain of Montjuïc stands between Plaça d’Espanya and the Palau Nacional, in front of those four towers. It was built in 1929 for the World’s Fair and is considered one of the larger fountains of its kind in Europe.

At exactly 8:00 p.m., the water show began, with a combination of water, light, and music that draws crowds of curious visitors every evening for a free performance.

This time, we stood a little farther away, across the road, as the area around the fountain was completely packed. But in truth, we didn’t miss out on anything. Sometimes the view from a distance is even more beautiful, when you can take in those ten-metre-high water jets in their entirety. When the water dances to the rhythm of classical symphonies, it’s something that stays with you.

As we walked back to the hotel, I found myself thinking about what a perfect ending to the day it had been.

Tomorrow, our final day awaits. Park de la Ciutadella, the iconic Arc de Triomf, the Catalan Parliament, and perhaps even a visit to the zoo.