Catalonia

The Catalonia region, in northeastern Spain, is known for the lively beach resorts of Costa Brava as well as the Pyrenees Mountains. Barcelona, the regional capital, has a historic Gothic Quarter, La Rambla pedestrian mall, museums and several beaches. Antoni Gaudí’s distinctive modern art and architecture can be seen at the Sagrada Família Basilica and in the colorful outdoor mosaics of Park Güell.

Catalonia Books

The Shadow of the Wind (The Cemetery of Forgotten Books, #1)

La catedral del mar (La catedral del mar, #1)

The Struggle for Catalonia: Rebel Politics in Spain

More catalonia books...

Lists

The Foods and Wines of Spain by Penelope Casas

Best Spanish Cookbooks

72 books — 10 voters

Secrets of the Seven Smallest States of Europe by Thomas M. Eccardt

The Mouse That Roared by Leonard Wibberley

Andorra

49 books — 8 voters

Secrets in the House of Delgado by Gloria D. Miklowitz

The Secret of the Sagrada Familia by Salvador Comelles

The Summer of Broken Things by Margaret Peterson Haddix

The Fountains of Silence by Ruta Sepetys

YA and Middle Grade Fiction Set in Spain

175 books — 5 voters

The Shadow of the Wind by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

La catedral del mar by Ildefonso Falcones

The Prisoner of Heaven by Carlos Ruiz Zafón

Best Books Based in Barcelona

46 books — 67 voters

Complete Catalan Beginner to Intermediate Course by Alan Yates

Complete Catalan Beginner to Intermediate Course by Anna Poch Gasau

Language Learning: Catalan & Valencian

13 books — 1 voter

Catalonia

29 books — 12 voters

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Quotes Tagged “Catalonia”

“ I was alone with Pinto in the dark, I cried so hard that I could not stop. I squeezed my teary eyes shut, I was chanting a question, over and over and over again: „Does true love exist? Answer! ”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

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“ At one particular moment, with my eyes closed, I was crying and asking the question over and over aloud, „Does true love exist? Does true love exist in girls? Does true love exist? Does Sabrina love me? Does true love exist? Does true love exist?” - I had suddenly seen a flash. As if I was poking the Devil in the dark, staring too long into the darkness until it looked back at me as they say. I have never told anyone about this before. I try to describe what I had seen that night in that windowl At one particular moment, with my eyes closed, I was crying and asking the question over and over aloud, „Does true love exist? Does true love exist in girls? Does true love exist? Does Sabrina love me? Does true love exist? Does true love exist?” - I had suddenly seen a flash. As if I was poking the Devil in the dark, staring too long into the darkness until it looked back at me as they say. I have never told anyone about this before. I try to describe what I had seen that night in that windowless, dark, and cold place deep inside under that big, old building, with my eyes closed. It made a half turn, flashing one of its eyes at me for a moment before disappearing again into the dark. As if it was nodding to me, I still get goosebumps years later when I try to describe it. As if it had been standing there all along, and just tried to reassure me that it had heard my question and would answer. Quite close. Just to make me be quiet finally. His eyes were yellow and red. I'm not actually sure if it had two eyes; I only saw one of them. One Evil Eye. Perhaps he had lost an eye, that's why I had seen the light of only one of them. His eye was malicious, but not particularly. It was more tired and angry yet understanding, as if he had heard this question over a billion times before from fools like me and I did not amuse him with my question and demand. As if he was about to show me a trick he had known for a long time. As if Satan had seen it all already. He knows all the tricks, he invented them, he inspired them all. As if he was bored of humanity already. (There is only One Evil Eye. The planet Saturn.) I was cuddling with Adam's cat, crying a lot, asking the darkness, about Love, and reflecting on Sabrina. Perhaps it was merely an optical illusion. I leave it up to the reader to decide what they believe about what I was facing and how I miraculously survived, as an atheist goy, as well as who truly supported me throughout the ordeal. If anyone or anything supported me in Spain at all. I had seen an advertisement somewhere saying that Miss Kittin would be playing on Saturday night, November 16th, 2013 in Barcelona at The Marhes. Satan. Saturn. Saturday. Coincidence? Maybe. So far. Perhaps. I knew I had to see her again after such a long time; she had been playing drum and bass in the early 2000s across the globe, and also in Budapest. I checked the map; The Marhes was next to Camp Nou, the FC Barcelona stadium. I thought of buying a bottle of champagne, which I didn't like, unless it’s Italian, but I wanted to celebrate, and I would walk along Avenida Roma to get there straight. I knew I'd get drunk; I didn't want to drive, I wanted to arrive intoxicated. I re-posted the Miss Kittin party’s flyer, on Instagram, writing underneath it : ‘All roads lead to Rome. ...more ”
― Tomas Adam Nyapi, BARCELONA MARIJUANA MAFIA

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