Photo by Thomas Vilhelm

The other day I asked Josep Maria, one of the owners of La Cova Fumada, why they don’t have a sign outside with the name of the place. "Why should we," he answered. "People already know where it is."

Well, some people do. What Josep Maria probably meant to say was that the tiny family driven restaurant in the heart of Barcelona’s old fisherman quarter Barceloneta needs no publicity whatsoever. Once you have tried their fish and seafood-tapas you will always come back for more.

 
Photo by Thomas Vilhelm

That is if you can handle the rather chaotic and very Mediterranean atmosphere, off course. Shouting from both staff and mainly local clients is intense and the oily steam rising from pots and pans in the open kitchen gives an idea of how the restaurant got its name – la cova fumada means the smoky cavern.

Photo by Thomas Vilhelm

But all that just seems to underline the exquisite taste of the sardines fried with parsley and garlic. The best I have ever tried and believe me, I have consummated quite a few travelling throughout Spain and Portugal. The octopus (pulpo), the mackerel (barat) and the cod (bacalao) are other of my favourite dishes, and no lunch at La Cova should come to an end without a ‘pirata’, coffee-punch invented by Josep Maria and his family.      
  
La Cova Fumada, c/ Baluart 56, Barceloneta. Tel. 93 221 40 61. Metro: Barceloneta.

Open Monday to Friday from 9 to 15.30. Thursdays and Fridays also from 18 to 20.30. Saturdays from 9 to 13.30.

 

It was halfway through the concert when Harry Connick Jr. suddenly told his musicians to stop. The American bandleader had a long look around the rich decoration of Palau de la Música. Then he said: “I’m sure these sculptures are very important to your cultural heritage. But, Jesus, they really freak me out!”

Connick Jr. is right. Barcelona’s old music hall, build a hundred years ago by one of architect madman Gaudís colleagues, is a freaky place. At one side of the stage a bust of Beethoven is almost run over by a bunch of wild Wagner-valkyries in a wagon. Behind it a series of muses look like Inca-mummies buried halfway into the wall. And at the back of the hall two enormous Pegasus horses jump right out over your head.

The place is simply too much but that’s exactly what I love about it. A night at El Palau is like being part of a weird fairytale. And strange as it may seem it is also a perfect setting for all kinds of events. I have seen gigs as different as the Danish Radio Big Band, flamenco singer Diego ‘El Cigala’ and noise rockers The Tindersticks perform here and all were brilliant.

There is almost always something interesting on at El Palau and if not it’s worthwhile a visit anyway. You just close your ears and open your eyes.

Guided tours are available everyday from 9.00 to 15.30.

Palau de la Música Catalana, C/ Sant Pere Més Alt, s/n.                     

I hate discothèques just about as much as I on occasions love to dance. Which would be a problem if not for the fortunate Spanish concept of the ‘bar musical’: A space that combines drinking while listening to good and not necessarily ‘strictly ballroom’ music with the possibility to move your body in a corner of the bar.

The lower part of Raval – the notorious but nowadays quite harmless ‘Chinese quarter’ – hosts quite a few of the kind. My favorite is called La Concha del Barrio Chino – a small, dark and somewhat exotic place in the backstreets of Ramblas.

The decoration is dedicated to the actress and gay icon Sara Montiel, top vamp of Spanish cinema in fifties and sixties and with celebrities such as James Dean, Ernest Hemingway and Gary Cooper on top of her endless list of lovers.

As a perfect match to Sarita’s mysterious features on the walls the music played is mainly flamenco-inspired mixed up with raï, the festive Arabian answer to the Blues. The crowd is from just about anywhere and La Concha is the only place where I on certain inspired occasions have come close to dancing some decent rumba.

During afternoon hours the bar surprisingly turns into a laidback and quiet Moorish teahouse and water pipe-joint.

La Concha del Barrio Chino, C/ Guardia, 14. Tel. 93 302 41 18. Metro: Drassanes.        
 

Downtown Barcelona is great. Sometimes, though, you get tired of the slick, international atmosphere and the neatly designed but overpriced restaurants.

Café-life in Poble Nou                                                                                       Photo by Thomas Vilhelm

Sometimes you feel like some genuine, Spanish neighbourhood-life; like a strong café solo at a shabby Manolo-bar while you listen to loud discussions about FC Barcelona’s latest match, labourers shouting obscenities at bypassing ‘señoritas’ and old women quarrelling with their dogs.

It’s quite easy to find. You just have to get away from the centre and head for ‘barrios’ like Poble Sec, Sants, Gracia or Clot.

Café-life in Poble Nou                                                                                      Photo by Thomas Vilhelm

For me the nearest choice is Poble Nou. Once known as ‘Catalan Manchester’ because of its many textile factories and as a stronghold for Barcelona’s anarchist movement this old working class neighbourhood is changing fast but still conserves its industrial charm.

The most interesting part is the one near the market and in particular the Rambla de Poble Nou, a semi-pedestrian street that gives you an idea of what the famous Rambla at the centre must have been like before it became permanently flooded with tourists.

There are several good bars around and a couple of brilliant restaurants. My favourite is called Barlovento, a small and economic tapasbar with a nice terrace facing the Rambla. Apart from the seafood you should also try the snails in spicy sauce and the blood sausage.
             
Barlovento, Rambla del Poble Nou, 21. Metro: Poble Nou.

Open Tuesdays to Sundays from 8.00 to 24.00 (kitchen closes at 23.00). Mondays closed. Metro: Poble Nou. 
 

La Central in the MacBa museum                                                Photo by Thomas Vilhelm

Pepe, an old friend from my Erasmus days in Granada, is one of the most devoted book readers I know. And when I a few months ago came across a Spanish translation of my favourite Danish novel – ‘The Fall of the King’ by Johannes V. Jensen – I bought it straight away and sent it to him.

A week later I received a long mail with a detailed analysis followed by Pepes final judgement: ‘Literatura de primera, macho! (First-class literature, mate!). Nothing like pushing a good book to a friend and see it appreciated.

Where did I find it? At ‘La Central’, off course, the best bookshop in town when it comes to fiction – Spanish, translated from just about any language or in English, French and Italian – and solid on non-fiction as well.

La Central in Raval                                                                 Photo by Thomas Vilhelm

There are three ‘Centrals’ in Barcelona – one of them specialized in artbooks and situated in the MacBa museum of contemporary arts – but I prefer the one in Raval. The contrast with this chaotic and multicultural neighbourhood near Ramblas is perfect when you step into the solemn quietness of the shop underlined by the fact that it is situated in a former church. It also has a nice bar where to have a first look at your new acquisitions having a beer or two.

One complaint. The section with Spanish literature translated into English is limited. In this case Come In at C/ Balmes 129 bis is a better choice.

La Central del Raval, c/ Elisabets, 6. Metro: Plaça Catalunya.

Go further: Read Francis' guide to his favourite book stores in Stockholm here.