Last weekend I finally got round to visiting the city renowned for its rich cultural credentials, and for its emergence as one the World’s best loved cities. I’m certainly glad I went; and whilst I admittedly succumbed rather easily to such deference, at the same time, I returned slightly surprised by the city I had discovered.

Ryanair saw to it that we arrived in Barcelona at the obligatory unearthly hour on Friday morning. Despite obvious tiredness our first mistake was taking a taxi from the airport to our hotel, situated on Via Leiatana, slap bang in the heart of the Gothic area. This cost €27 for all of a ten-minute taxi ride. Naive optimism and provincial parochialism later combined to ensure we repeated this mistake upon our return to Aeropuerto de Barcelona on the Monday; getting caught out for a further €37.

Whilst this may seem pedantic, not only does this minute detail mean I strongly recommend the avoidance of Barcelona taxi-cabs, it also served to satisfy a long niggling curiosity of mine. As I had rather suspected the spirit of socialism, heavily associated with Barcelona, is long dead comrades; well, except for some palpable remnants of altruism and equality percolating amongst the city’s waiters and other workers whom I encountered, also working in the service sector.

Ensconced after this preparatory reality-check; which, in all fairness, is customary in any major city nowadays, my initial thoughts turned to the surrounding area of our hotel, and noticed that the vicinity bore an uncanny resemblance to the business areas of any northern English city, such as Leeds, Manchester or Liverpool. The Imperially-clad buildings of Barcelona, however, seem to hark back to a superior historical magnificence, commanding far greater majesty. This is embossed by a certain decadence; one which, as I would soon discover, was characteristic of the entire city. The architecture of Barcelona matches any I have feasted my eyes upon and is possibly worth the airfare and inconvenient plane journey all by itself.

Nevertheless, I had not gone to the Capital of Catalonia solely for its architecture. I had gone to mingle with its inhabitants and to practice some of my broken Spanish on some unsuspecting locals.

I had also hoped to experience the socially conscious attitude of a city that had only before existed vicariously to me and I had never witnessed firsthand. Whilst this might not be obvious, it is there if you endeavor to look hard enough. For example, Usted or Ustedes (3rd person polite form: singular and plural) is rarely used and the city generally has a casual approach to such protocols of language and etiquette, more casual than perhaps in South America (where Usted is widely adopted) or how it had once been during the Franco regime. Of course, I initially adopted this approach with hotel staff et al, but quickly discovered that a less formal trope – or familiar form – is more commonplace in Catalonia.

What resonates most for me, regarding idiomatic matters, is that workers in the service industry appeared far less formal. Staff seemed free from peremptory orders that in turn commanded more self respect in their roles, and as a result they came across far less servile than their equivalents do say in well-to-do parts of France and England. This, on the whole, helps to carve out a better ambiance in both the bars and restaurants as generally the waiters and bar staff appeared far less insipid and distinctly more affable.

Just to say one more thing in regards to language, I did feel slightly at umbrage on occasions due to locals’ over eagerness to speak English, especially upon discovering my nationality. Of course, Barcelona is a forward thinking and multicultural city and English is ubiquitously spoken. But at times I found this frustrating, especially when I realised their grasp of English put my grasp of Spanish well and truly to shame.

We ate out in the Borne district (trendy area), the Gothic quarter (slightly rougher, cooler area), as well as in the notorious Raval (rougher still, Moroccan area), and have to say the food was stunning in all three places.

Whilst Borne screams European sophistication, the bars and restaurants in and around the backstreets of the Carrer d’Avinyó and the Carrer Ample give Barcelona an urban coolness that is unique unto itself. El Raval can be a touch on the sinister and rumbustious side, but as long as you steer clear of the pick-pocket and prostitute back streets just off La Rambla towards the dock side – which you’ll recognize by the pungent smell of marijuana penetrating your nostrils – then this edge is an essential ingredient to the city.

I did not particularly like the hustle and bustle of La Rambla, in particular the guys selling (and demonstrating) a mouth instrument more irksome than the infamous vuvuzelas. But the buildings and monuments by the water are simply breathtaking, and nullify any tumultuous feeling stirred up by the maelstrom of Las Ramblas and its street traders. Also, the Hotel Continental and la Plaza de Cataluña at the opposite end, both of which are central locations in George Orwell’s Homage to Catalonia (both POUM strongholds during the Civil War), are certainly worthy of a look, even if solely for their obvious historical connotations. Vista upon vista justifies a rendezvous down this famous avenue.

I loved the artisan workshops, the churches, the museums and the art galleries, especially the Picasso Museum. We were also enticed by Antonio Gaudi’s influence on the city, though I have to say I am with my good friend Orwell on this one, and found some of his buildings (most notably La Pedrera Casa, which I thought resembled a concrete multi-story car park decorated in a few bits of scrap metal) not to my own personal taste. I was also impressed by el Metro and public transport in general, which appeared to be more efficient than the transport system of England and felt discernibly cleaner than the Tube does in London.

But, most of all, what I loved about Barcelona was its atmosphere. It seems to achieve the balance of being both a fast paced city, whilst still retaining a relaxed way of life, and performs the seemingly impossible union of these two parallaxes quite effortlessly. There was also an unrivalled versatility to Barcelona that I had not come across before. It indubitably felt like old Spain, yet it embodies everything expected of a modern multicultural city. The alley ways of La Gotic added a mystical aura, one which allows you to transcend to the very same alley ways hundreds of years previous, and quite easily. This I liked best.

Yes it is expensive, and certainly raucous in parts, but in a peculiar way this renders a juxtaposition that is central to its appeal. On the whole Barcelona is a city that has everything, and is a place that everyone should visit at least once in their lifetime.