Poblenou's identity has been forged through hard work, amidst the steam from the boilers and the rumble of the shuttles, but also through a neighborhood struggle that began in the final years of the dictatorship—a legacy of many other struggles by the workers of the Catalan Manchester—and through the most radical urban transformation Barcelona has experienced in recent years. This was especially true from the 1980s onward, with the Olympic Games on the horizon. To understand this, one only needs to explore the neighborhood's greatest treasure, which is also one of the city's most valuable.

The Poblenou Historical Archive, fifty years ago. This non-profit organization was founded to preserve the collective memory of the neighborhood. The dictatorship had only offered one official narrative, and the residents of the "Catalan Manchester" wanted to challenge it. The result is as interesting as it is surprising, and it helps to reconstruct a history fundamental to understanding the urban, architectural, cultural, and social evolution of the city of Barcelona.

It is known as the neighborhood of the 'expats', of the spaces of coworking and high-rise offices. Poblenou has changed its landscape in just a few years, and what was once industrial and working-class is now touristy and, above all, very attractive to foreigners who want to come and live in Barcelona. Teresa Núñez is the president of the neighborhood's Residents' Association and a testament to the changes Poblenou has undergone, both in terms of urban planning and in terms of the residents who now live there.

More than a century ago, many people thought that the promised land lay across the ocean, whether in New York or Buenos Aires. Juan and Josefa, a couple from the town of Nucía, in Alicante, believed it. Low-paid, with few rights and a hard life, they decided to save up to travel to Barcelona to board a boat. But they ended up putting down roots in Barcelona, without boarding a boat. "God knows what happened? It seems the boat took so long to arrive that they ended up in Barceloneta. And they had to get by, what could they do? Horchata!" says Teresa Moreno, great-granddaughter of Joan and Josefa. Her daughter Irene, the great-great-granddaughter, listens to the conversation while serving customers at the El Tio Che horchateria, one of the oldest in Catalonia thanks to that lost boat. Juan went around looking for customers shouting "Che, try this horchata!", so naming the business was very easy.

"Hi. Excuse me, what time do you close?" It's half past ten at night. "Twelve o'clock, but I sell alcohol until eleven." It's a Thursday in August in Poblenou, in the area between Meridiana and the streets Tànger, Llacuna, Pallars, Badajoz, Pujades and Marina, where several entertainment venues are located. The party has not yet started and there are few people around. This is the first Thursday in which the new measures against noise are in force. "In a couple of hours you will see the atmosphere," says a shopkeeper in the area. The area is now a ZATHN (acoustically stressed area at night), and hence subject to Barcelona City Council's new measures announced in July to reverse noise pollution and ensure "quality sleep" for residents. Among the measures approved is the closure of food shops at ten o'clock at night.