El Cap de Barcelona
At the end of Via Laietana, where the old town meets the harbour, stands one of Barcelona's most playful landmarks: El Cap de Barcelona ("The Head of Barcelona"). The American pop artist Roy Lichtenstein made it for the 1992 Olympics. The giant, abstract face is built in his trademark comic-book style, with bold outlines, bright primary colours and the red dots he's famous for. Look closer and you'll see it's covered in broken ceramic tiles, the trencadís mosaic technique, a nod to Gaudí, whose work is everywhere in the city. Seen from different angles, it changes from a wave of blue and white into a smiling face. I loved how it stands against the grand towers of the old main post office: a bit of 1990s pop art next to century-old stone. It's free to see, right on the waterfront, and an easy stop on a walk between the Gothic Quarter and Barceloneta.
A walk from the Gothic Quarter to the sea
In September I spent an afternoon walking from the medieval lanes of Barcelona's Gothic Quarter down to the waterfront, and in under half an hour I passed through a thousand years of history. On Carrer del Bisbe I stopped under the Pont del Bisbe, a lacy neo-Gothic bridge from 1928 that looks centuries older. Legend says a skull pierced by a dagger is hidden in its stonework. A short stroll down Via Laietana brought me to Roy Lichtenstein's El Cap de Barcelona, a giant pop-art face covered in Gaudí-style broken tiles, made for the 1992 Olympics. I finished in Port Vell, the old harbour, looking back at Montjuïc and the domes of the Palau Nacional from the water. It's all free and easy to do on foot. Go early for a quiet Gothic Quarter, and late afternoon for the best light by the sea.
Barcelona Cathedral
At the heart of the Gothic Quarter stands Barcelona Cathedral, the Cathedral of the Holy Cross and Saint Eulalia, named after the city's young patron saint. Work on it began in the late 13th century, but the grand front you see today is much younger. The neo-Gothic façade was only completed in the late 1800s, following a medieval design that had sat unbuilt for centuries. Stand at the bottom of the steps and look up: the doorway is lined with rows of carved figures, the stone apostles keep watch from their lacy canopies, and the spires climb into the sky. It's even more striking from the side streets, where the old walls tower over the narrow lanes. Inside, don't miss the peaceful cloister, home to thirteen white geese, one for each year of Saint Eulalia's life.
According to the inscription on the tiles, the gate got its name from the iron measuring rods fixed to it, which set the city's official standard of length. The gate is long gone, but the fountain keeps its memory alive, and locals still stop to fill their bottles from its brass spouts. Most people rush past on their way to the shops, so slow down and take a closer look at the little figures in the tiles.
The Portaferrissa Fountain
A few minutes' walk from the cathedral, on the busy shopping street Carrer de la Portaferrissa, is one of the old town's prettiest hidden gems: a public fountain decorated with hand-painted ceramic tiles. The colourful scene shows the Portaferrissa, the "iron gate" that once stood here in Barcelona's medieval city walls, with a bustling market in front of it.
Meet the Giants of Barcelona
One of the most unexpected highlights of my September trip was walking into the Palau de la Virreina, an 18th-century palace on La Rambla, and coming face to face with Barcelona's gegants. These huge festival giants, some several metres tall, are carried through the streets during celebrations like La Mercè. Each one is worn by a single carrier hidden inside, who makes it spin and dance to the music. Up close, the detail is amazing: the crowned king and queen in their ermine-trimmed robes, the beautifully embroidered gowns, the jewels, the flowers, even the painted eyelashes.
The giants never travel alone. Around them were the capgrossos ("big heads"), cheeky characters with oversized papier-mâché heads, plus a giant festival mule wearing the city's coat of arms and a whole row of little hobby horses waiting for the next parade. Seeing them standing still gave me a real sense of how much craftsmanship goes into Catalan festival traditions, and it's a lovely way to understand what all the dancing and processions are about. If you're walking down La Rambla, pop into the Virreina's courtyard and see who's on display.
Port Vell
At the bottom of La Rambla, Barcelona opens up onto Port Vell, the city's old harbour, which was given a new lease of life for the 1992 Olympics. Today it's a relaxed waterfront of bobbing yachts and catamarans, palm-lined promenades and the grand old Customs House, built in the early 1900s and topped with winged statues. Walk out along the Rambla de Mar footbridge for the best view back to the city: Andreu Alfaro's sweeping steel Onades ("Waves") sculpture, the green slopes of Montjuïc, and the domes of the Palau Nacional on the skyline. It's the perfect place to slow down after the busy streets of the old town, especially in the late afternoon when the light turns golden over the water.
The Columbus Monument (Mirador de Colom)
Where La Rambla finally meets the sea, Barcelona puts on a show: the Columbus Monument, or Mirador de Colom, rising about 60 metres above the busy roundabout at the edge of Port Vell. The architect Gaietà Buïgas designed it for the 1888 Universal Exposition, and it marks the spot where Columbus is said to have returned in 1493 to report to Ferdinand and Isabella after his first voyage across the Atlantic. At the very top stands a bronze statue of Columbus by the sculptor Rafael Atché, his arm stretched out towards the horizon. Fun fact: everyone assumes he's pointing towards the Americas, but he's actually pointing out across the Mediterranean, a bit of trivia locals love to share. Like many Columbus monuments around the world, it's also part of a wider conversation about how his legacy should be remembered, which gives it a layered, complicated presence in the city. Photographing something this tall is a lovely challenge, and I spent a good while walking around it before taking a single shot. From a distance, I framed the column rising out of the plane trees, their leaves just starting to turn, to show how it towers over the city and the people below. Then I moved in with a longer lens to isolate Columbus himself, arm outstretched against a perfectly clear September sky. With nothing but blue around him, the bronze reads almost like a silhouette, all gesture and outline, and that's exactly the drama I wanted to capture.
The closer I got, the more the monument revealed itself, and that's where it really won me over as a subject. What looks like a simple column from across the street turns out to be layer on layer of detail. At the base, winged bronze figures of Victory spread out around the pedestal as if they're about to take flight. Carved reliefs tell the story of the voyage, and large bronze lions guard the steps, a favourite spot for visitors to climb up and pose. Higher up, the deep red column is wrapped in ornate metalwork, coats of arms and decorative bands all the way to the crown-like globe beneath Columbus's feet. For my favourite shot, I stood almost directly below and looked straight up. The low angle exaggerates the height, pulls the winged figures into the foreground, and turns the whole structure into one dramatic, soaring line against the sky. The strong midday sun is usually my enemy for portraits, but here it was perfect: it made the blue sky rich and deep, put crisp highlights on the bronze, and brought out every edge and curl of the metalwork. In the wider shots, the modern harbour tower and the puffy white clouds behind the base give a nice sense of old meeting new. If you visit, there's a small lift inside the column that takes you up to a viewing platform just below Columbus's feet, with panoramic views over La Rambla, the Gothic Quarter, Montjuïc and the boats in the marina. And if you've got a camera with you, take your time: walk all the way around the base, try it from close up and from across the square, and watch how the light changes on the bronze. Every side tells a slightly different story.
Around the Columbus Monument
Once I'd photographed Columbus himself, I turned around and found just as much to shoot at his feet. The monument stands in Portal de la Pau, a wide, sunny square where La Rambla meets the waterfront, surrounded by some of the grandest buildings in this part of the city. My favourite subjects were the huge bronze lions guarding the base. I was shooting straight into the late-morning sun, which turned them into dark, heavy silhouettes against a bright sky, and I loved that drama. I kept them moody in the edit, bringing up just enough detail to show the curls of their manes and the tension in their paws. Framed against the old Customs House, with its winged statues on top, they feel like guardians of the whole harbour. In the background you can spot the red lattice tower of the harbour cable car, which carries visitors high over the water to Montjuïc.
Walking around the square is like flicking through an architecture book. The old Customs House, built in the early 1900s, is all warm stone, arched windows and rooftop sculptures, with the green slopes of Montjuïc rising behind it. Nearby, an ornate port building with slate-topped towers looks almost like a fairytale palace behind a row of swaying palms. Across the road, a grand neoclassical building flying the Spanish flag shows off its columns and balustrades in the bright Mediterranean light. Between the buildings, the scene is busy: yellow-and-black taxis, cyclists and visitors all pass through this meeting point of city and sea. It's easy to snap Columbus and move on, but take your time here. Walk the full circle around the monument, look past the crowds, and you'll find a whole collection of beautiful photo opportunities in one square.
The Sagrada Família
No trip to Barcelona would be complete without the Sagrada Família, and nothing prepares you for standing beneath it. Antoni Gaudí's great basilica has been under construction since 1882, and more than 140 years later the cranes are still part of the skyline. My visit fell in 2026, a hundred years after Gaudí's death, which made it feel even more special. I spent most of my time at the Nativity façade, the part Gaudí worked on during his own lifetime and, for me, the most extraordinary. It celebrates the birth of Jesus, and it's covered in so much detail it almost looks grown rather than built: stone that drips and flows like melting wax, angels and figures tucked into every hollow, plants and animals carved into the walls, and a bright green Tree of Life crowning the central doorway. Photographing it at midday was a real challenge. The sun was right behind the spires, turning the whole front into a dark silhouette, so I leaned into it. I shot the four Nativity towers from below so they soar up like a cluster of carved stone rockets against the blue sky, crowned with colourful mosaic finials and a white cross. For the wider frame, I kept the construction cranes in on purpose. They're as much a part of the Sagrada Família's story as the stone itself, a reminder that this is a building still being written.
Then I moved in close, and that's where I completely fell in love with it. Where the sun hit the sculpture directly, the stone lit up in warm cream and gold, and every surface came alive. Around the central doorway, figures nestle in carved foliage, stars and birds seem to spill across the façade, and high up in a pointed arch sits the scene of Mary being crowned, framed by stone that looks like icicles. I cropped one frame tight on that central arch and doorway so you can follow the details from top to bottom, and another wider to show how the doorways flow into one another. Around the side of the basilica, I found one of my favourite details of the whole trip: a row of sharp, pointed gables, each topped with a basket of brightly coloured fruit made from glittering mosaic. Against the pale stone and the scaffolding behind, they look playful, almost like they belong on a cake, and they show Gaudí's love of nature and colour perfectly. In the edits I brought out the shadows so you can see the stonework, without losing the drama of the light. My advice: book your tickets in advance, arrive early or late in the day for softer light, and before you rush inside, walk slowly around the outside. Every façade, gable and pinnacle has a story to tell, and the longer you look, the more you see.