“Ah, of course. As La Rambla is under construction, they have set up the stalls here,” says a pedestrian from the corner of Portal de l’Àngel, before starting to immerse herself in a crowd that fills every corner and browses all the books. Really, there are people for everything.”
Touching Fontanella, several vectors converge. On one hand, the queues stretching from Plaça Catalunya on the Hard Rock Café side, waiting for the signing of bestseller Javier Castillo with a copy of El susurro del fuego (Suma), or of the Extremaduran Inma Rubiales with Nuestro lugar en el mundo (Planeta de Libros).
The second vector is a young singer-songwriter, Javi Still, who has a large audience and is enthusiastically applauded. “He’s a friend from the student residence who isn’t famous yet, but he will be,” assures a couple of spectators.
At Portal de l’Àngel
There’s a breeze and Can Cotet’s thermometer must be showing about twenty degrees, but it’s not visible in full sun
The third vector is a very noisy whistle protest by the staff of what they call Barcelona’s “social shield”. That is, libraries, social services, child care, and citizen services. “We demand more resources and that the labor rights that are being cut from us be respected,” one of the protesters tells La Vanguardia.
As a fourth vector, floating above the applause of the student singer-songwriter and the protest whistles, is the Betevé set, where they do what they can amidst all the commotion.
Given the panorama, the pedestrian, walking with a couple of companions, plunges into Portal de l’Àngel at the time when Can Cotet’s thermometer must be showing 20 degrees, but the marks are not visible in full sun. In full sun, yes, but with a breeze that spreads the pollen even more, so more than one person has retrieved their pandemic mask.
Early in the morning, the image of Portal de l’Àngel was desolate: few people and few stalls and, to top it all off, most were selling roses and not books. Roses of all kinds, some with “eternal perfume,” and no need to worry if you don’t have cash, you can pay by card and with Bizum: “No excuse.”
The roses are made of cloth, paper, glass, wood, and even leather. Núria Clotet sells these at one of the stalls of the Fira d’Artesans, which is set up for a good part of the year on this side of the street next to Plaça Catalunya, and which are assigned to artisans in two-week shifts.
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The desolation has been dissipating because, as the day progressed, all of Barcelona filled up, with or without stalls, even on the open sidewalk sections of La Rambla, where the most disoriented ended up.
In addition to rose and book stalls, there are also those of a Marxist collective and Pacma, the animal rights party. Near the old Can Jorba, there is a signing author with a queue that stretches almost to where the Paris cinema used to be. She is the psychologist Elizabeth Clapés, who is signing Así se como lo verás mañana (Montena).
When the walker reaches Arcs street, which forms a right angle, there are practically no stalls, so this narrow passage, which would be equivalent to the bottleneck of the Betlem church on La Rambla, allows for comfortable circulation of visitors.
Editorial Virus has set up its stall right there. “Here we are a bit hidden, far from the entrances of Fontanella and Via Laietana,” says Miguel Martín, who nevertheless hopes for a good day.
In Plaça Nova, next to the cathedral, is Editorial Alpina, where the breeze has knocked down a map of Catalunya that presides over the stall. Martí Nadal recalls that they have spun “like a top through different enclaves,” but he is happy with this location: “It’s not Passeig de Gràcia, but it’s good; moreover, the Setmana del Llibre en Català was held here for a long time.”
Two of the editors of Cap de Brot, Judit Pujol and Germán Bartolomé, located in front of the cathedral, also remember this fair. “This year we are happier, because last year we were at Universitat and everyone was rushing off, in a hurry. Here, people stop.”
The atmosphere on Avinguda Catedral is very different from that of Portal de l’Àngel: more book stalls and more crowded. Perhaps it’s that for Sant Jordi, if we don’t crowd together and feel the human warmth, the celebration isn’t really a celebration.
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