This is a country-within-a-country, an autonomous region whose inhabitants speak, without irony, of what happens “In Spain…” as if it were a foreign nation. The feeling of otherness is compounded by the sounds of Catalan, a language that seems more Italian or Portuguese than Castilian Spanish, and whose strangely accented letters cover menus, signposts and tourist brochures, running free across the pages after decades of oppression during the Franco dictatorship. No ‘ñ’ here; we are in Catalunya.
![]()
The one exclamation you'll hear time and time again from visitors in Catalonia is "I can't believe we're in Spain!"
![]()
The region’s curiousness perhaps explain the fantastical minds of its most famous offspring – Salvador Dalí and Antoni Gaudí, whose influences run strong in the cities, parks and galleries. Barcelona may bask in all the glory, but those in the know come to Catalonia for the landscapes, from the high Pyrenees to the golden sand coves, from the endlessly flat rice paddies to the surreal Volcanic Park, all traversed by well-marked dedicated walking and cycling trails. Pedal to provincial pueblos, picturesque cascades and canyons, traditional markets and ancient caves, to work up an appetite for a plate of wild boar, giant prawns and fresh mussels washed down with chilled Cava – all the produce of Catalonia’s deltas, mountains and Mediterranean terrains.
