In Barceloneta, inland tourism and vigilance "lagging behind"

BarcelonaLa Bombeta is a lifelong classic in Barceloneta, on Carrer de la Maquinista almost touching Joan de Borbó. A little over a year ago, when the pandemic was not yet present, they opened a branch a few meters away. And they have resisted the devastating onslaught of covid. Another irreducible place of the neighborhood, perhaps even more classic, Cal Pinxo, has not had the same luck. Born with the historic name of Casa Costa, the restaurant closed last week unable to refloat the losses of recent months. La Barceloneta, a metamorphic neighbourhood, subjected like no other to the market's criminal thrusts, to speculative swings, to the imperious need for tourism, lives with stoicism the inclemencies and uncertainties of the disconcerting cycle of openings, closures, relaxations and successive and capricious tightening of restrictions. When the good weather arrives and the sun comes out, in Barcelona there are few things like the Saturday morning beat of Barceloneta.

At vermouth time there are a few tables left in both Bombetes, but the waiters officiate the service convinced that in a short time there will be no more room. The neighbourhood isn't overcrowded, the activity isn't frenetic, but there's an intense atmosphere. At half throttle, yes, but with gas peaks at full throttle. "Tourists? Some, yes, but this has nothing to do with the good old days". Loles, who lives in Pepe Rubianes street and who, despite all the suspicions she has attached to her like a leech, is a fan of the neighbourhood where she was born, explains it to me. "What you will see is a lot of inland tourism. A lot of Spaniards who have moved over for Easter". Mark and Sandy are having a few drinks in the Marisma, in the market square. They have come to visit their son, Jeremy, who is studying in Girona, and together they have escaped to Barcelona for the weekend. The outdoor space is not full, but almost. Just like L'Arròs and Can Ramonet. They have reservations even though they are not overflowing: "Today, if you wait fifteen minutes, you're sure to eat without a problem". Good persuasive spirit, the trademark of good waiters in Barceloneta.

Maribel and Aranzazu, from Pamplona, are 71 years old and lifelong friends. Today is Maribel's birthday and her daughter congratulates her by phone. For months they had been waiting for a getaway and the occasion has arrived thanks to the Easter relaxation. A few months ago I read that Leo, from Bar Leo in Sant Carles street, of course, wanted to retire. Nothing, unproven rumours. There she is, attracting customers with the loquacity that has made her mythical and so beloved. "I don't know how long this will last, but I don't know how to do anything else and I like people, so I'm here!"

"You can't pay for sea views with money"

There is no other outdoor seating bigger than the Salamanca. In front of the sea, with the sun snapping down vertically and customers fulminating tapas and white wine at ultrasonic speed. "You can't pay for sea views with money", exclaims Leo, not the barmaid but the one who has three beers with Mari and some Andalusian-style squid. They live in Sagrera and have to go down to the sea at least twice a month. And the Salamanca drives them crazy. After eating, they are sure to digest their food (and take a nap) on the sand. "With a face mask?", I ask them. "But it's not compulsory on the sand, is it?", they answer scared.

There is a lot of surveillance. Guardia Urbana and plainclothes police. The earpiece and the microphone give them away. They observe the safety distances on the sand and warn whoever is needed against the crowds. Yesterday, right here, dozens of young people were dancing without face masks or distance. The Antena 3 video went viral. The Guardia Urbana evicted more than 500 people between Barceloneta, Passeig del Born and Plaça dels Àngels. "Lagging behind, when it comes to surveillance, they always lag behind", protests Maite, who walks the dog and thinks about which restaurant she will eat in to fulfil her ritual of every other Saturday. There is already a queue at La Bombeta.