Looking at photos like this reminds me of one of my fondest memories from secondary school, in the brief spell we studied architecture in Design class. Seeing as architecture was about to be dropped from the curriculum for good, and therefore had no benefit to our academic futures, it was a bold move by my teacher to choose this as our first year GCSE subject. Being a former architect himself, it quickly became clear why he did as I’ve never heard someone talk about something so passionately as he did about his previous profession. It was actually quite inspiring. He spoke at great lengths about his admiration of the work of many great architects, especially that of Antoni Gaudi, a name that was unknown to the fifteen year old me. Being from Iran, his accent caused him to pronounce it like ‘Goldie’. This caused much amusement between me and my friend, but because of this amusement, it was a name that stuck with me throughout the remainder of the school day and into my return home where I dropped it into Google to see what all the fuss was about. What ensued was the start of a love affair that is still as strong over ten years on. Everyone who knows me is fully aware of my infatuation towards all things Spanish, so Barcelona was always going to be one of my favourite cities, but the day I finally set foot there, and was immersed in Gaudi’s legacy first hand, will go down as one of the most profound experiences I’ve had on foreign soil.