The Gothic Quarter is Barcelona's oldest ground, and you walk on three cities at once. Underneath is Barcino, the Roman colony whose grid still bends the streets and whose wall stands exposed at Plaça Nova. Above that is the genuine medieval city: the cathedral, the vaulted Saló del Tinell on Plaça del Rei, and El Call, the Jewish quarter, pressed into lanes barely wide enough for two people to pass. The lacy stone bridge on Carrer del Bisbe — the one everyone photographs — is far younger than the lanes it crosses.
Come early and the quarter belongs to its residents: shutters rolling up, pavements still wet from the hose. By midday the run from the cathedral to Plaça Sant Jaume is shoulder to shoulder. It is still a working neighbourhood, with laundry on the balconies and children crossing the small squares, and the stone keeps its marks. Roman blocks are reused in medieval walls, and on Plaça de Sant Felip Neri a church façade is pitted by a bomb that fell in 1938.