A Scottish Writer in Barcelona - But Why Here?

Why do you live where you live? 

Are you living there by choice, out of convenience, or as a compromise? Or maybe because of family or work commitments? Or due to circumstances totally beyond your control?

As a Scot in Barcelona, I’m asked these kinds of questions a lot.

I’ve lived in Barcelona for years and have no intention of moving any time soon. The city features in my debut novel, The Silent Daughter, and may appear in future books. 

But why here?

The first part of the answer is that it was love at first sight for me and Barcelona. But why did I come here in the first place? Because of the Concorde disaster, back in 2000.

I was backpacking for the first time ever with my two best friends from school. We had inter-rail passes, a bottle of Sun-In to ‘naturally’ bleach our hair and really sore feet. I’d just finished my first year of law at Aberdeen University and had a month off before returning to re-sit my Contract Law exam. I scored an amazingly poor 6.5/20 the first time around.

(As I write this I think of all the people over the years who’ve said to me – Emma, you studied law, right? Can you have a quick look at this contract? I always say yes. Oops.)

Getting back to our travels.

We went to Berlin and couldn’t find the wall. We went to Rome and found the Colosseum but it was closed and as we sat outside it, dismayed, a pigeon pooped on my friend. We fled the city and headed for the glorious coast; then got so sunburned that a local woman shook us awake on the beach, said red, red, danger, danger, in the world’s thickest Italian accent. 

We then went to Prague and felt like slick negotiators when we were offered and accepted a 10% discount on a room with no hot water, no tiles at all in the bathroom – just concrete - and cockroaches racing around the light fittings. The £4 a night cost was reduced to £3.60.

Barcelona wasn’t even on our radar. To be honest, I probably didn’t know where it was. 

But then? Then the Concorde crashed near Paris, killing more than 100 people. And as a tiny inconvenience, our return flights from Paris to Scotland were cancelled, for obvious reasons.

And to cut a long story short, we ended up booking new flights home from Barcelona. 

We spent a total of 18 hours in the city and it definitely wasn’t idyllic. After traipsing around we found beds in a vile city centre hostel with massive shared dormitories and triple bunks. 

After that we went for dinner in the tourist heart of the city - Las Ramblas. After a month in Europe, we were tired of trying new food so we ordered a good old-fashioned, dinnertime classic - sausages. I’ve never forgotten that jolt of horror when it was brought to the table.

No chips, no vegetables, no salad, no sauce. Just a single sausage, on a white plate.

Chips or not, that day changed me.

I was totally captivated by Barcelona.

We’d been exploring Europe for a month but nowhere had grabbed me the way Barcelona did. I vowed to return after I graduated from university - with an English degree, by the way. I passed my re-sit exams but dropped law at the start of second year. It wasn’t for me.

And so it was that two days after my graduation ceremony I flew alone to Barcelona with a huge backpack, my guitar and a notebook that was blank except for the name and address of my mystery landlord and flat-mate.

I knew nothing about Barcelona, couldn’t speak the language and had no job.

But I went - and twenty years later, here I am.

I’ve lived in a lot of other places in the intervening years – Mexico, Guatemala, Nicaragua, Bulgaria and Andalusia in southern Spain - but 2016 was the year I finally moved back to Barcelona and this time, I’m here to stay. It was love at first sight, but it’s built to last. 

So now you know my why, I’ll ask again - why do you live where you live?