This self-guided walking tour follows that mosaic trail, from whimsical townhouses to noble palaces, from ornate lampposts to tiled storefronts still open for business. Some of these buildings are famous, postcard-familiar. Others are quietly tucked away, waiting for someone curious enough to notice. As you walk and explore, be sure to pop your head into the myriad peaceful coffee shops and tapas bars that catch your eye, it’s worth a look-see!

Table Of Contents

1. History of the Eixample
2. Design & Layout of Eixample
3. Catalan Modernisme
4. Map of Walking Tour
5. Palau Macaya
6. Casa Manuel Llopis Bofill
7. Casa Jeroni Francesc Granell
8. Casa Lamadrid
9. Casa Josefa Villanueva
10. Casa Jaume Forn
11. Queviures Múrria
12. Palau Ramon Montaner
13. Casa Thomas
14. Casa de les Punxes
15. Casa Comalat
16. Palau del Baró de Quadras
17. Hotel Casa Fuster
18. Block of Discord
19. Casa Ramon Casas
20. La Pedrera (Casa Milà)
21. Casa Vídua Marfà
22. Casa Batlló
23. Casa Amatller
24. Casa Lleó Morera
25. Bancs-Fanals
26. Casa Fargas
27. Casa Dolors Calm
28. Fundació Antoni Tàpies
29. Farmàcia Jordi Bolòs Giralt
30. Casa Queraltó

History of the Eixample

Back in the mid-1800s, Barcelona was suffocating. The whole city was still trapped inside its medieval stone walls, and by 1850, nearly 200,000 people were crammed into that tight space. That meant extreme overcrowding, worse than Paris or London at the time. With barely any air or sanitation, disease spread quickly and life expectancy dropped hard: down to just 36 years for the wealthy, and only 23 for workers! People were desperate for space to breathe, and in 1854, the government finally tore down the old fortifications.

That decision opened the door, literally, for the city to stretch out onto the empty plains beyond. A few years later, in 1859, a Catalan engineer named Ildefons Cerdà stepped in with a bold new vision. He proposed a completely different kind of city: open, geometric, and grounded in ideas about hygiene, equality, and sunlight. Not everyone loved his plan, especially since it was pushed through by the Spanish state, overruling a more decorative design that locals had voted for. But Cerdà’s vision stuck. He called it “urbanization,” and it laid the groundwork for the modern Barcelona we know today. Gridded streets, airy courtyards, big leafy boulevards, it all began with this radical idea to reform the city, one square block at a time.

Design & Layout of Eixample

What made Cerdà’s Eixample so distinctive is its signature grid, clean, rational, and almost obsessively thought-out. The blocks were originally designed as perfect squares, each about 113 meters on each side, separated by broad streets that were 20, 30, or even 60 meters wide. But the real twist? Cerdà shaved off the corners. Every block has a 45-degree chamfer, turning intersections into soft octagons. It wasn’t just for looks. These angled corners let more light and air flow through the city, made it easier for horse-drawn carriages (and later cars) to turn, and opened up visibility at crossings.

At the heart of his plan were two simple but radical ideas: equality and hygiene. He imagined each block as its own little ecosystem, where homes, shops, workshops, and green space all coexisted. No towering elites on one end and cramped slums on the other. Every block would have a central garden or courtyard open to the sky, bringing in fresh air, natural light, and a place for residents to gather. He even got specific about the trees, one every 8 meters, and preferably the hardy plane tree, which could handle the dusty city air. Buildings were originally capped at just 3 or 4 stories, and only meant to line two sides of each block. The rest was meant to breathe. Wide boulevards, open courtyards, and plenty of daylight, his dream was a city that felt equal, spacious, and full of life.

Catalan Modernisme

Cerdà gave Barcelona the bones. But it was the artists and architects of Catalan Modernisme who gave the city its unmistakable flair. Emerging in the late 19th century, right around the time Barcelona’s factories were booming and its bourgeoisie was growing bolder, Modernisme was Catalonia’s answer to Art Nouveau.These architects weren’t interested in following the old academic rulebooks. They wanted to create something original, a new art for a modern Catalonia. Their designs were alive with nature: twisted iron vines, stone flowers frozen mid-bloom, colourful tiles shimmering like butterfly wings. Curves replaced corners. Symmetry gave way to flow. And materials, iron, glass, ceramic, brick, were used not just structurally, but joyfully.

Map of Walking Tour

Palau Macaya

We start our tour at the far eastern quarter of the Exiample, at the Palau Macaya. At first glance, Palau Macaya‘s façade greets you with quiet elegance, soft Montjuïc limestone draped in delicately carved sgraffito, arabesques, and allegorical figures that seem to dance above the windows. It’s a palace wrapped in medieval reverie, yet there’s something so modern about its symmetry and crisp lines. You’ll probably notice the whimsical knight on a bicycle, a small delight hidden in plain sight that somehow captures both nostalgia and a forward-thinking spirit. The façade gently curves with the street, almost bowing to pedestrians, while elegant pilasters and balustrades guide your gaze upward to that graceful roofline.

As you stroll around the block, you start to appreciate how the building plays with light and shadow, the shallow reliefs catching the sunshine just so, creating a tapestry of texture that moves with the day. The wrought-iron balconies peek out like delicate balconies of lace, offering glimpses of the private world within. Even without going inside, you feel the building’s warmth and intelligence: a blend of refinement and innovation, anchored in Catalan identity but open and inviting to the world.

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Casa Manuel Llopis Bofill

Make your way west along the Avenue Diagonal, but make a quick turn down the quiet Carrer de Bailèn towards #113, where you’ll see Casa Manuel Llopis Bofill. One of the most quietly striking aspects of Casa Manuel Llopis Bofill is how it leans, gracefully and unmistakably, into an aesthetic that feels almost distinctly Arabic. Moorish, even. You see it in the arches above the windows, the tiled turrets that crown the corner towers, and the way the whole structure seems more like something from Granada or Córdoba than the heart of Barcelona’s Eixample. There’s something softer, more ornamental at play here. Designed in 1902 by Antoni Maria Gallissà, he was drawing on Islamic art and architecture, not copying, but weaving those influences into the local fabric in a way that feels respectful and original. Despite being damaged during the Spanish Civil War, much of the original detail has been carefully restored.

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Casa Jeroni Francesc Granell

Head over one street, to the Carrer de Girona, where you’ll find two of the most fabulous homes in the Eixample, the first being the Casa Jeroni Francesc Granell. This is the home of architect and stained-glass artist Jeroni Granell and it’s every bit as theatrical as you’d expect. Passing by you might not even notice the details right away, but take a moment to look closely and you’ll be amazed at what you see. A wide central bay window that gently bows out toward the street, draped in floral stucco, framed by soft green sgraffito, and topped with glasswork that seems to glow even on overcast days. Sgraffito is a decorative technique that’s all about revealing beauty through layers, literally. The name comes from the Italian “sgraffiare”, meaning to scratch.

The overall effect is delicate, romantic, almost a little wistful. The curved iron balconies feel like jewelry against the soft exterior, while the vines and blossoms carved into the plaster give it a kind of tender movement, as if the whole building is mid-exhale.

Casa Lamadrid

Just a few doors down, you’ll find the Casa Lamadrid. Casa Lamadrid, built in 1902 by Lluís Domènech i Montaner, is a perfect example of how a building doesn’t need to shout to be heard. Compared to some of Domènech’s more theatrical works, like the Palau de la Música or the Hospital de Sant Pau, this house might seem modest at first. But spend a little time with it, and it begins to reveal its layers. The façade, while relatively restrained, brings together many of the elements that defined the architect’s signature style: sculpted stonework, floral symbolism, and a deep sense of proportion and rhythm.

What makes this building truly sing is the ornamental crown that rises above it al, a sculptural flourish that seems to grow from the structure like ivy from a garden wall. It’s decorated with plant motifs that soften the building’s silhouette and connect it back to the organic inspiration that defines so much of Catalan Modernisme. Right in the center, nestled among the curling foliage, is a Gothic-style coat of arms, adding a heraldic, almost medieval touch. It’s a detail that speaks volumes, not just about the architect’s style, but about the era’s fascination with history, nature, and identity.

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Casa Josefa Villanueva

Take a walk along the Carrer de Valencia, towards Casa Josefa Villanueva, designed by Juli M. Fossas and constructed between 1904 and 1909. A bay window, elegant and slightly theatrical, curves around the chamfered edge of the building like a balcony wrapped in stone lace. It’s one of those features that feels both sculptural and structural at once, like it grew out of the façade rather than being placed on it. What’s especially striking is the way the slender columns beneath the bay seem to echo organic forms. They don’t read like classical pillars. They’re more sinuous, more anatomical. There’s something vaguely skeletal about them, as if they were ribs or bones holding up a delicate skin of glass and stone. It’s subtle, but it gives the whole corner a slightly surreal edge, like nature and architecture are quietly negotiating with each other. In a neighbourhood known for its florid façades and showpiece balconies, this one stands apart, more introspective, more tactile.

Casa Jaume Forn

Tucked into a sunny corner between Carrer de València and Carrer de Roger de Llúria, Casa Jaume Forn is one of those buildings that stops you mid-step, less for its size (though it’s a big one) and more for its presence. Designed originally by Jeroni F. Granell i Manresa and completed later by Domènech i Boada when Jaume Forn became the owner, it stands today as a quiet icon of the Quadrat d’Or, the Eixample’s golden grid of Modernista marvels.

What draws the eye instantly are the stained glass bay windows that wrap around the building’s chamfered corners. They glow with colour and fine detail, even on overcast days, catching the light like jewelry strung across the façade. The leaded panels, most likely crafted by the legendary Taller Rigalt i Granell, are intricate and organic, full of floral flourishes and delicate patterning. They don’t just decorate the building; they transform it. From the street, the glass gives off the feeling of a living canvas, as if the building is watching the city through a lens tinted by art.

Queviures Múrria

Tucked into a busy corner of Carrer de Roger de Llúria, Queviures Múrria looks more like a perfectly preserved film set than a functioning shop. But step inside, and you’ll discover that it’s both. Originally opened in 1898 as a coffee roaster and rolled-wafer maker, this gem of a colmado (traditional grocery) still holds fast to its Modernista soul. The exterior is a feast for the eyes, fire-glazed stained glass signs from the 1920s shimmer above the windows, proudly advertising Anís del Mono and Codorníu in bold, romantic fonts. They’re reproductions of original poster designs by Ramon Casas, and they lend the storefront a theatrical quality, as if time stopped mid-scene.

Inside, the time-travel sensation deepens. The original mahogany cabinetry, old mechanical clock, marble counters, and delicate glass shelving all remain intact, lovingly preserved through generations. Even more special? You might still find Joan Múrria himself behind the counter, offering curated selections of cheeses, smoked fish, conserves, and wine with the kind of pride and care you rarely see in modern retail.

Palau Ramon Montaner

Just off Passeig de Gràcia, where Carrer de Mallorca meets Roger de Llúria, you’ll find one of the few surviving mansions from the Eixample’s early golden age: Palau Ramon de Montaner. It’s a grand, eclectic building with Modernista bones and a distinctly Italianate flair, a rare hybrid that sets it apart from the more organic, nature-drunk facades found elsewhere in the district. Construction began in 1889, shortly after the Universal Exhibition, under the architect Josep Domènech i Estapà, who was originally tasked with designing twin homes for the founders of the Montaner i Simón publishing house. But due to creative disagreements, Estapà left the project midway, and the commission was handed off to his nephew, none other than Lluís Domènech i Montaner, a rising star in the world of Catalan Modernisme. Rather than demolish what his uncle had started, Domènech i Montaner kept the structure intact and turned his attention to reimagining the decoration, both inside and out.

From the outside, it’s the richly adorned ceramic frieze that first catches the eye: a tapestry of glazed tiles, heraldic symbols, and botanical motifs, all shimmering in metallic tones under the deep eaves. The upper façade also bears a mosaic date, 1895, the year the work was completed, surrounded by sculpted flourishes that hint at the sumptuousness waiting behind the doors.

Casa Thomas

Casa Thomas, tucked along Carrer de Mallorca, is one of those buildings that catches your eye slowly, then refuses to let go. Designed in 1895 by Lluís Domènech i Montaner for the printer Josep Thomas, the house originally had just two storeys: a printing workshop on the ground floor and the Thomas family’s residence above. The façade is a symphony of detail. Cool, bluish tones ripple through floral stonework, neo-Gothic arches lift the windows, and if you look closely at the entrance, you’ll find carved reptilian figures crawling through the stone, one of Domènech i Montaner’s signature eccentric touches. His language of architecture is never just form, it’s narrative. Here, nature coils and blooms across the façade like it’s part of a larger, slower story unfolding in stone. Even after Francesc Guàrdia (his son-in-law) added three upper floors in 1912, raising the towers, extending balconies, and threading a gallery across the top, the overall composition holds together in a way that feels balanced, intentional, and still very much in tune with its original soul.

Casa Thomas is often called a compendium of Modernisme, and for good reason: sculpted stone galleries, wrought-iron balconies, delicate floral motifs, neo-Gothic flourishes, it’s all here, coexisting in quiet harmony. Though altered and restored over time (most notably in 1980 by architect Cristian Cirici, who won a National Restoration Award for his work), the spirit of the original design remains. It’s not just a pretty façade. It’s a record of ambition, imagination, and the lasting power of beauty.

Casa de les Punxes

Casa de les Punxes (also known as Casa Terradas) looks like it was plucked from a medieval storybook and dropped right onto Avinguda Diagonal, where it meets Carrer Rosselló and Carrer Bruc. Six sharp towers rise from the brick façade, giving it the nickname “House of Spikes”, and it lives up to the drama. In 1905, Josep Puig i Cadafalch, one of Catalan Modernisme’s greats, was commissioned to build a home for the three Terradas sisters: Àngela, Josefa, and Rosa. Rather than design three separate houses, he created a single structure with a unified façade and individual wings. The result is a Neo-Gothic fortress full of symbolism, invention, and flair.

Look closely and you’ll find more than beauty. Ceramic panels show Saint George slaying the dragon beneath the words, “Patron Saint of Catalonia, give us back our freedom.” Anagrams of the sisters’ initials circle the towers, and zodiac signs appear alongside floral carvings, pomegranates, and grapes. Every detail feels deliberate. Puig i Cadafalch didn’t work alone. He enlisted master artisans, Enric Monserdà, Ballarín, Amigó, and more, to bring the sculpted stone, stained glass, and wrought iron to life. Structurally, it was ahead of its time too: he replaced load-bearing walls with iron columns, creating wide open interiors, a radical move for 1905.

Casa Comalat

Further down the Avenue Diagonal, you’ll come upon the Casa Comalat. A building that feels like a hidden love letter to Gaudí. Designed by Salvador Valeri i Pupurull between 1909 and 1911, it’s one of the most original and playful examples of late Catalan Modernisme. While Gaudí himself had no hand in it, his influence is all over this place, from the flowing lines to the floral motifs to the fantastical surfaces that make the building feel alive. There are two façades, and they couldn’t be more different. The main face, on Avinguda Diagonal, is elegant and symmetrical. Sculpted stone, floral garlands, and a grand wrought iron doorway hint at Valeri’s careful eye for detail. At the top, a green-glazed ceramic turret shaped like a harlequin’s hat peeks out over a crown of sculpted balconies.

But swing around to Carrer de Còrsega, and the building suddenly lets loose. The back façade bulges outward like it’s exhaling, wrapped in undulating wooden galleries and covered in vibrant ceramic mosaics by Lluís Bru i Salelles. The curves here feel less refined and more rebellious, wild parabolic arches, warped lines, and organic forms that call to mind Gaudí’s Casa Batlló or La Pedrera, but with a slightly surreal twist. Commissioned by financier Joan Comalat Aleñà as a private residence, this was Valeri’s attempt to create a home where straight lines barely existed.

Palau del Baró de Quadras

Architect Josep Puig i Cadafalch was commissioned in 1900 to transform a simple residential block on Carrer Rosselló into something spectacular for the Baron of Quadras, now dubbed Palau Baró de Quadras. And wow, did he deliver. He reoriented the entrance toward Avinguda Diagonal, which was quickly becoming one of the city’s most prestigious boulevards. The façade here is a love letter to Northern European palaces: intricately carved stonework, sculpted busts of medieval figures, heraldic shields, and balconies that practically whisper of nobility. Sculptors Eusebi Arnau and Alfons Juyol brought the stone to life.

Since 2013, the palace has housed the Institut Ramon Llull, an organization dedicated to promoting the Catalan language and culture around the world. A point made clear by the large Catalan flag fluttering outside the windows, a bold, unmistakable marker of identity, pride, and purpose in the heart of the Eixample.

Hotel Casa Fuster

At the very top of Passeig de Gràcia, where the avenue opens into the Jardinets de Gràcia, stands a building that whispers instead of shouts. Casa Fuster, built between 1908 and 1911 by the celebrated Lluís Domènech i Montaner, is a masterclass in elegance and restraint. A more subtle take on modernisme. Pale. Poised. And profoundly detailed. It was commissioned by Mariano Fuster, a Mallorcan lawyer, as a gift for his wife, Consol Fabra i Puig. Her initials still appear carved into one of the facades. But this wasn’t some modest love letter. At the time, it was the most expensive private residence in Barcelona, thanks in large part to the lavish use of white marble and other rare materials.

Domènech i Montaner’s trademark elements are easy to spot: nature-inspired floral motifs, trilobed arches, robust columns set on red stone bases, and a central tower-like oriel window that anchors both façades. At the top, a line of French-style garrets adds a surprising and somewhat whimsical finish, something rarely seen in Catalan modernista buildings. For years, the building served a more practical purpose, housing the offices of ENHER, the city’s electric company. Poet Salvador Espriu once lived here too, and today the garden across the street bears his name. In the 1960s, the building nearly disappeared, slated for demolition to make way for a skyscraper. It was only after public outcry that Casa Fuster was saved, restored instead of erased. Today, Hotel Casa Fuster blends modern luxury with the soul of its historic design.

One of its most iconic spaces, the Café Vienès, has been brought back to life, formerly a gathering place for artists and thinkers, now hosting atmospheric jazz nights under original stained glass and carved ceilings.

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Block of Discord

As we make our way down along Passasge de Gràcia, we are entering the Block of Discord (Illa de la Discòrdia in Catalan). It’s one of the most famous and eccentric stretches of architecture in the city. Why the name “Block of Discord”? It’s not about arguments. It’s about artistic rivalry. The name is a playful jab at the visual discord between the wildly different styles of three side-by-side Modernista masterpieces, each designed by a different prominent architect. Think of it like a flamboyant architectural face-off.

Casa Ramon Casas

Ramon Casas, painter, illustrator, and central figure of Catalan Modernisme, wasn’t just a celebrated artist. He was also part of Barcelona’s upper class, and like many of his contemporaries, he wanted to leave a mark on Passeig de Gràcia. In 1898, he commissioned architect Antoni Rovira i Rabassa, son of the notable urban planner Antoni Rovira i Trias, to design a home that would serve both as a residence and a working studio.

Located at number 96 on the promenade, just one building away from Gaudí’s La Pedrera, the Casa Casas-Carbó is a refined example of early Modernista architecture. With a carved stone façade, elegant sculptural details, and distinctive grandstands on the main floor, the building exudes a quiet sophistication. The iron-and-wood entrance door is particularly remarkable, and the decorative elements, ceramic, wrought iron, and sculpted stone, capture the essence of the movement’s love for craftsmanship and nature.

Today, the space has been transformed into the flagship store of Massimo Dutti, but its artistic legacy hasn’t been erased. The renovation carefully respected the building’s heritage, restoring mosaic floors, coffered ceilings, carved woodwork, and the magnificent marble staircase.

La Pedrera (Casa Milà)

La Pedrera, meaning “The Stone Quarry,” officially known as Casa Milà, sits at the corner of Passeig de Gràcia and Carrer de Provença. From the moment you see it, you realize this isn’t just another building. It’s a wave of undulating stone. A living, breathing sculpture that feels more like a mountain than a home. The facade is made entirely of rough, pale limestone. No flat surfaces. No right angles. It moves like fabric caught in a breeze. Windows are scattered irregularly across the stone, each framed with intricate wrought iron that twists and curls like seaweed or vines. These iron balconies, designed by Josep Maria Jujol, feel like nature gone wild in metal.

At street level, the grand entrance arches are massive and organic, almost like the hollowed trunks of ancient trees. Step back and look up, the building doesn’t rise so much as ripple. It looks alive. Like it was carved by water or grown from the earth rather than designed. On the roof, a forest of surreal chimneys and ventilation towers crowns the structure. They look like warriors or guardians sculpted in stone, frozen mid-step. Even from the sidewalk, you can see their otherworldly silhouettes.

Casa Vídua Marfà

One of the architectural highlights along Passeig de Gràcia is Casa Vídua Marfà, designed by architect Manuel Comas i Thos in 1901 and completed in 1905. This richly layered building stands at the corner of Passeig de Gràcia 66 and Carrer València, making the most of the chamfered intersection. Originally built as a residence, it rises five stories high and blends several historical styles, especially Romanesque and Gothic, while incorporating touches of Modernisme on the ground floor and within the staircase.

The building is now protected as a Cultural Asset of Local Interest. Its most eye-catching features include two decorative towers, balconies with vegetal capital columns, and a graceful Gothic-inspired loggia. On the ground level, arches carved in stone hint at Modernista influence, and inside, a grand staircase with stained glass and ironwork leads to what was once the main living space.

The old carriage entrance, accessed via the chamfered corner, is considered one of the most elegant in the area. Above it, a medieval-style gallery with semicircular arches and stained glass lends further distinction to the upper floor.

Commissioned by Emili Marfà i Martigas and his wife Isabel Palau i Vera, the building remained in the family before being repurposed. Today, it houses the Formatic Barna University School of Public Relations and Marketing, along with the School of Communication, Tourism and Business. Visitors are welcome inside, free of charge.

Casa Batlló

The exterior of Casa Batlló is pure fantasy in stone, glass, and ceramic. Designed by Antoni Gaudí and completed in 1906, it stands out even among the showiest buildings of Passeig de Gràcia. The façade ripples like water, undulating across five floors with a skin of colorful trencadís mosaic that shifts from blues to greens to gold, catching the light at different times of day like a living thing.

Its balconies resemble masks or bones, depending on how you look at them. Some say they look like the jaws of sea creatures or fragments of skulls. Others see Venetian masks, with their hollowed eyes and delicate iron railings. The windows on the main floor are especially striking, massive ovals framed in carved stone that curves like melted wax, supported by bone-like columns that seem more organic than architectural.

At the top, the roofline mimics the spine of a dragon, its arched back covered in iridescent ceramic tiles like scales. A small tower rises near one end, capped with a four-armed cross, perhaps the lance that slayed the dragon in the legend of Sant Jordi. This fairytale symbolism is intentional. The entire façade feels like a living storybook, somewhere between a coral reef and a dream.

Casa Amatller

Puig i Cadafalch drew from a mix of architectural traditions to create something deeply personal and symbolic. He reinterpreted Romanesque and Catalan Gothic styles and added a stepped gable that recalls the medieval townhouses of northern Europe. The entire façade is a visual narrative, filled with sculpted details that reference Amatller’s life and passions, from almond branches (a nod to the family name) to figures representing industry, collecting, and the arts.

The building’s uppermost floor, with its unusual and eye-catching gable, was designed to house Amatller’s photography studio. It sits slightly set apart from the rest of the structure due to the chemicals used at the time, but it was also an artistic centerpiece. The staggered cornice, ornate windows, and sculptural frames all reflect Puig i Cadafalch’s attention to asymmetry, texture, and storytelling.

Casa Lleó Morera

Casa Lleó i Morera is one of the great landmarks of Barcelona’s Modernisme movement. Designed by the celebrated architect Lluís Domènech i Montaner, it sits at number 35 on Passeig de Gràcia, right on the corner with Carrer del Consell de Cent. Together with Casa Amatller by Puig i Cadafalch and Casa Batlló by Gaudí, it forms part of the Illa de la Discòrdia, a block known for its clashing architectural styles. Of the three, Casa Lleó i Morera is the only one that received the City of Barcelona’s artistic building award in 1906.

Casa Lleó i Morera represents a collaboration between many of the finest artists and artisans of the era. Sculptor Eusebi Arnau created the expressive stone figures, mosaicists Mario Maragliano and Lluís Brú laid intricate tilework, Antoni Rigalt designed the stained-glass windows, and Gaspar Homar contributed furniture and wood carvings. The result is a unified artistic vision, rich in detail and craftsmanship.

The façade is particularly elaborate. At the corner, a rounded grandstand rises vertically and culminates in a small domed shrine. The ground floor was originally adorned with graceful feminine sculptures that referenced modern technologies of the time, including the telephone and electricity. Some of these elements were lost during mid-century renovations, although a few were salvaged and now appear in the Dalí Theatre-Museum in Figueres.

Bancs-Fanals

Pere Falqués i Urpí, the municipal architect at the time, designed thirty-one of the now-iconic lamp-benches in 1906 to bring both light and artistic flair to the Passeig de Gràcia. Their ornate design was meant to reflect the grandeur and luxury of the surrounding architecture. Made from masonry and decorated in the trencadís mosaic technique so closely tied to Catalan modernism, these benches are topped by elegant wrought iron lampposts crafted by the Ballarín ironworks. With sweeping, whiplike curves, the lamps embody the fluid lines of Art Nouveau.

Though long attributed to Falqués, some still credit Gaudí with their design—likely a reflection of just how seamlessly they blend into the spirit of Modernisme. By the 1980s, many of the original benches had fallen into disrepair and were carefully restored by the city.

Casa Fargas

Casa Fargas, designed by architect Enric Sagnier in 1904, is a refined example of Catalan modernism that stands out for its elegant restraint. Located on Rambla de Catalunya, this residential building was commissioned by Dr. Miquel Fargas, a figure linked to the city’s wood trade, and reflects both the material and cultural richness of the era.

Unlike many of Sagnier’s more ornate creations, Casa Fargas embraces a more subdued style. Its most striking exterior features are the undulating bay windows framed in stone, which evoke a soft French Art Nouveau aesthetic. These windows, especially those on the main floor, are decorated with floral and symbolic carvings that echo the decorative language of Catalan modernism.

Casa Dolors Calm

Located on Rambla de Catalunya, Casa Dolors Calm was originally an existing building that got its full Modernista makeover from the architect Josep Vilaseca i Casanovas, the same mind behind the Arc de Triomf and the vibrant Casa Bruno Cuadros on La Rambla. His redesign gave the building not only its signature façade, but also an artistic flair that once extended to its interiors.

The centerpiece of Casa Dolors Calm is impossible to miss: a dramatic stretch of bay windows framed in exquisite wooden marquetry that dominates the entire main façade. This grandstand runs across five floors and is crafted with intricate cabinetmaking and polychrome stained glass, making it one of the building’s most prized features.

In contrast, the side sections of the façade feel almost secondary, flat in comparison and visually receding behind the vivid central projection. But look again and you’ll notice the scarlet red and sky blue sgraffito work that brightens these surfaces, each floor accented with a wrought iron balcony.

Fundació Antoni Tàpies

The Fundació Antoni Tàpies sits inside one of the earliest Modernista buildings in the Eixample, originally designed by Lluís Domènech i Montaner in the 1880s for the Montaner i Simón publishing house. The façade is a beautiful blend of red brick and iron, marked by graceful arches and narrow windows that stretch vertically across the structure. There’s something both industrial and ornate about it—functional yet undeniably decorative. This balance between practicality and artistic flourish reflects the spirit of Modernisme before Gaudí’s more flamboyant touch took over the city’s architectural scene.

Farmàcia Jordi Bolòs Giralt

The Farmàcia Jordi Bolòs Giralt is a charming example of Catalan Modernisme tucked into a quieter stretch of the Eixample. Its exterior features gracefully curved woodwork, stained glass signage, and a warm, earthy color palette that immediately sets it apart from more utilitarian storefronts. The name of the pharmacy appears not just on a sign but embedded in artistic glass panels above the door, blending beauty with purpose.

Inside, it still functions as a real pharmacy, but it feels more like stepping into a perfectly preserved piece of history. Wooden cabinets with glass-fronted drawers line the walls, filled with classic apothecary jars. A brass-trimmed counter and mirrored shelving reflect soft light, giving the whole space a warm, nostalgic glow. It’s a living museum of everyday life from over a century ago, where the artistry of the past still quietly shapes the present.

Casa Queraltó

Our final stop is Casa Queraltó, and one of those buildings that quietly stops you in your tracks. A grand corner residence, it stretches confidently across the junction of Rambla de Catalunya and Carrer de Mallorca, dressed in a soft pink sgraffito that gives the entire facade a gentle glow. Designed by Josep Plantada Artigas between 1906 and 1907, it channels the spirit of Modernisme with an elegant, restrained hand.

While some of its original flourishes, like the small rooftop temple and decorative pinnacles, have disappeared, the building still holds its own with striking semicircular bay windows framed by delicate arches and slender columns. There’s a lovely rhythm to its facade, a balance of boldness and detail. And for those who enjoy a bit of historical serendipity, this is also the birthplace of Teodoro Moscoso, the future U.S. ambassador and key figure in Puerto Rico’s mid-20th-century economic transformation.

Wandering through the Eixample, it’s easy to get lost in the big names and grand gestures. But it’s buildings like Casa Queraltó that remind you why Modernisme still stirs something in us. The curve of a window, the warmth of pink sgraffito catching the afternoon sun, the way ornament and architecture dance together, none of it shouts, yet all of it lingers. These streets hold more than history; they hold personality, memory, and quiet flair. Keep looking up!

Happy Travels, Adventurers!

The post The Ultimate Self-Guided Walking Tour of Barcelona’s Eixample District first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.

In this guide, I’ll take you on a self-guided tour through it all, from the surreal façade along Passeig de Gràcia to the colourful chimneys perched high above the rooftops. Whether you’re planning your visit or just exploring from the comfort of your couch, come along. Let’s wander through Casa Batlló together, not just as tourists, but as readers of a story written in tile, wood, and imagination.

Table Of Contents

1. Music Nights at Casa Batlló
2. History
3. The Façade “House of Bones”
4. Lobby
5. Living Room
6. Dining Room
7. The Inner Courtyard
8. The Light Well Atrium
9. The Attic
10. The Rooftop Terrace

Tips & FAQ

To make the most of your visit, I highly recommend booking your ticket in advance, especially if you’re hoping to go on a weekend or during high season. The earliest time slot, right at 9 AM, is the best if you want to experience the house with minimal crowds and enjoy a quieter, more atmospheric tour. Late afternoon is another sweet spot, especially if you’re keen to catch golden-hour light pouring through the stained glass and hitting the rooftop mosaics just right. And just a heads up: buying tickets on-site will cost you around €4 more than booking online, and you might not get your preferred time slot, so pre-booking is your best bet.

Lastly, if you’re short on time or traveling on a budget, you can still soak in the magic of Casa Batlló from the street, the façade alone is worth the stop. In fact, some say it’s the most spectacular part of the entire building. A dreamscape of bone-like balconies, glittering tiles, and that unmistakable dragon-backed roof… and all of it completely free to admire.

Music Immersion

Casa Batlló is one of the most popular sites in Barcelona, and yes, it gets very crowded, especially midday and in high season. Here’s a trick I swear by: bring your own earbuds and play some music. The provided audio guide is great for context, but once you’ve heard the essentials, switch it off and let yourself sink into the environment. Drown out the selfie sticks and the chatter.

Try something moody and instrumental, Ludovico Einaudi, Max Richter, or even the ethereal piano/guitar tracks from Alexandre Desplat’s The Shape of Water soundtrack. If you’re walking through the attic or stairwell, a track like Experience or On the Nature of Daylight somehow makes the whole house feel alive, like you’re drifting through a memory rather than a museum. It’s a simple thing, but it totally transforms the way you move through the space.

Which Ticket Should You Buy?

If you’re trying to decide which Casa Batlló ticket to go for, I’ve been there, and I’ll make it simple. Skip the fancy extras and go with the Silver ticket. Here’s why: the Gold ticket includes an augmented reality tablet, which sounds cool in theory. It overlays digital animations on the rooms as you walk through. But to be honest, it can feel clunky and a bit distracting. Holding up a device the whole time takes you out of the mood and atmosphere that Gaudí worked so hard to create.

The Silver ticket gives you everything you actually need: access to the interior, the incredible rooftop terrace (a highlight you do not want to miss) and even access to the basement where you’ll walk through the Gaudí 360° Cube, an immersive projection room.

Music Nights at Casa Batlló

If you’re in Barcelona between spring and early fall, there’s one experience at Casa Batlló I can’t recommend enough: the “Magic Nights” rooftop concerts. After the regular hours end, the house opens up again for a special kind of visit, one where music, architecture, and sunset light come together in a way that’s hard to put into words.

When I went, a flamenco guitarist played under the stars. We sat beneath Gaudí’s colourful chimneys, cava in hand, while the sky shifted from gold to indigo. The whole rooftop seemed to glow. You could hear the quiet clink of glasses, the echo of guitar strings weaving through the dragon’s spine, and somewhere behind it all, the hum of the city winding down.

The evening starts with a more intimate, twilight visit to the house (fewer people, no daytime crowds), followed by the open-air performance on the roof. And honestly? Watching the sunset from up there, surrounded by Gaudí’s mosaics and Barcelona’s skyline, it’s unforgettable. If you’re looking for something a little more special, a little more atmospheric, this is it. Book it early though, those nights fill up fast.

History

Standing on Barcelona’s Passeig de Gràcia, you gaze up at Casa Batlló’s surreal exterior. This modernista masterpiece was originally a dull building that underwent a complete transformation between 1904 and 1906 by the visionary architect Antoni Gaudí. Owner Josep Batlló, a wealthy textile industrialist, gave Gaudí free rein to create a house “like no other”. This was a bold statement in the prestigious Eixample district’s so-called “Block of Discord,” where flamboyant mansions by rival architects jostle for attention.

By the time Batlló commissioned the redesign in 1904, Gaudí was already gaining fame for his unusual, nature-inspired style. He had completed a few major works, Casa Vicens, Palau Güell, and his early contributions to the Sagrada Família, but he wasn’t yet the household name we know today. He was in his early 50s and in a transitional period, slowly shifting from the more decorative style of early Modernisme into something stranger, freer, and more personal.

Casa Batlló would be a major turning point. Gaudí chose to preserve and radically remodel the structure rather than rebuild from scratch, enlarging its central courtyard to flood the interior with light. The result is a street façade that stops pedestrians in their tracks and transports them into what feels like a living dream.

The Façade “House of Bones”

As you take in the facade, notice how Gaudí’s design dissolves conventional architecture into an organic, almost aquatic form. A broad central section of the exterior ripples and shimmers like the surface of a pond, clad in a kaleidoscope of broken ceramic tiles (trencadís) in blues, greens, and purples. In fact, the undulating mosaic was likened by Salvador Dalí to “the reflection of twilight clouds on water,” and it recalls Claude Monet’s Water Lilies paintings with its fluid play of light and colour.

This dreamy, water-like effect is no accident. Gaudí, ever inspired by nature, avoided straight lines and flat surfaces, opting instead for flowing curves and reflective glass and ceramic pieces that make the façade come alive in the changing daylight.

Stepping closer, you encounter structural elements that evoke the forms of bones. The ground floor and main level are framed by fluid stone columns that appear almost skeletal, their joints bulging like vertebrae or thigh bones supporting the structure. Above them, the iron balconies curl outward in organic shapes; look carefully and you’ll see why locals nicknamed this place the “House of Bones.” These balcony railings, cast in a single piece of iron, have openings that suggest the empty eye sockets of skulls or Venetian masks.

Gaudí’s use of Montjuïc sandstone for the bone-like columns and the trencadís tile skin for the walls creates a vivid contrast, the stone is carved into flowing, lip-shaped window frames that give the façade a face-like quality. In fact, the gaping forms of the main windows are reminiscent of wide-open mouths, a feature that earned Casa Batlló yet another nickname, the “House of Yawns,” for its yawning, anthropomorphic expression.

Saint George Cross

Above the mosaic walls and mask-like balconies rises the famous roof, which you’ll explore in detail at the end of this tour. From street level, you can already appreciate its fairy-tale quality, capped by a four-armed cross, which Gaudí oriented to the cardinal directions. According to popular lore, this turret and the arched roof beneath it tell the legend of Saint George and the Dragon, with the cross symbolizing Saint George’s sword plunged into the dragon’s back.

The Gaudí Cube

After walking through the admission door, you are plunged down into the depths of the building, to the basement, where you find the Gaudí Cube, a 360º immersive digital experience. You enter a mirrored, cube-like space where the walls, ceiling, and floor become projection surfaces. It’s a surround-style journey into Gaudí’s imagination, images swirl around you, pulling inspiration from nature, geometry, stained glass, and Gaudí’s own sketches. Some visitors love it. Others find it a bit of a detour from the real architecture upstairs. If you’re someone who enjoys immersive art experiences or is travelling with kids or teens, it can be a fun bonus.

Lobby

Back on the ground floor, in the entry lobby, you’re immediately transported into Gaudí’s world. Originally reserved for the Batlló family and their guests, the space feels almost underwater, walls curve like waves, ceilings ripple above you, and the light shifts like reflections on a still pond. It’s designed to feel like stepping into an underwater cave, or maybe the belly of some great sea creature.

The walls curve organically, without a single harsh edge. They rise and fall like waves, flowing into the ceiling that ripples overhead, as if stirred by a gentle current. The space is lit in soft, golden tones, with just enough shadow to make it feel like you’ve stepped into the belly of some enormous sea creature, calm, otherworldly, a little bit surreal.

Along the lower portions of the walls, you’ll notice a band of glazed ceramic tiles in watery blues, soft greens, and pearly whites. Some are smooth and reflective; others are textured, carved with subtle patterns that catch the light. The tiles almost shimmer in the shifting glow, as if wet. It’s like walking through a grotto or the tiled chamber of an Art Nouveau submarine.

Every detail contributes to this underwater mood. The custom iron railings have a seaweed-like flow to them. The doors and windows are set in warm-toned wood, rounded and smooth like driftwood polished by the sea. Even the lamps resemble jellyfish, all rounded edges and soft glows. It’s a transitional space, but it’s already pulling you deep into the story Gaudí is telling: one where architecture doesn’t stand still, but breathes and moves around you.

Concierge Room

Tucked near the base of the main staircase, the original Concierge Room is a small, restored space where the doorman once greeted guests and managed the day-to-day affairs of the building. With its wood-panelled desk, wall-mounted call bell system, and angled window to the street, it gives you a quiet peek into the behind-the-scenes life of Casa Batlló in the early 1900s.

But here’s the thing, it’s only accessible with the Gold or Platinum tickets, and to be honest, it’s very missable. While it’s a nice historical touch, especially for architecture or social history buffs, it won’t significantly enhance your understanding of Gaudí’s vision or the house’s atmosphere. If you’re on the fence about upgrading your ticket just for access to this space, I’d say skip it. The magic of Casa Batlló lives elsewhere.

Staircase

Rather than taking the central staircase, you step into a small vestibule that leads to the private residence above. Here, a grand wooden staircase rises ahead of you—its banister smoothly carved, curling upward in a slow, elegant spiral. The newel posts resemble vertebrae, and some even say they look like oversized mushroom caps. As your hand slides along the polished oak, it’s easy to imagine you’re climbing the spine of a mythical creature. Many refer to it as the “Dragon’s Back,” and once you’re on it, the name makes perfect sense.

Study

At the top of the stairs, you arrive in the Noble Floor, a suite of interconnected living spaces that Gaudí crafted with extraordinary detail for the Batlló family’s daily life. First, you pass through Mr. Batlló’s study, an intimate wood-paneled room. In one corner, Gaudí installed a curious alcove: a snug fireplace nook shaped like a mushroom, with built-in benches on either side.

This whimsical fireplace (complete with a mushroom-cap arch over it) was designed as a cozy spot for courting couples to sit and warm themselves, a playful human touch in the midst of the bold design. One can easily imagine Josep Batlló’s guests marvelling at this conversation piece.

Stepping onward, you pass through carved wooden double doors ornamented with oval stained-glass inset panes, the doors themselves ripple with organic shapes, as though grown rather than built. Every doorknob, every hinge, has been custom-designed in ergonomic, nature-inspired forms.

Living Room

The highlight of the Noble Floor is the grand saló (living room), which opens up before you with a breathtaking effect. This spacious main room spans the front of the house, and sunlight pours in through a wall of large bow windows overlooking Passeig de Gràcia. These windows are themselves a marvel: a parade of large oval glass panes, some clear, some tinted blue and amber, held in elegant wooden frames, punctuated by slender stone columns that branch like bones or tree trunks.

Everywhere you look, Gaudí’s love of nature and flowing form continues to captivate. Slender limestone columns rise to meet the ceiling, flaring softly at their tops in a way that recalls lily stems—or perhaps the graceful bones of some imagined creature. Beneath your feet, a warm parquet floor grounds the space, its patterned wood adding a sense of rhythm to the otherwise freeform design.

The oak doors and built-in cabinetry echo this organic elegance, their soft curves and smoothly sculpted brass handles shaped to fit the human hand just so. Even the furniture, like the iconic Batlló chairs, was crafted as an extension of the architecture, proof of Gaudí’s relentless attention to detail and his belief that every element, no matter how small, should belong to the whole.

Peering out from the salon’s windows, you have a privileged view of the street, but the clever design simultaneously reflects light inward from the multicoloured glass. In the late afternoon, the room glows as if underwater, blue and gold flecks dancing on the walls. It’s easy to forget the outside world and feel as though you’ve stepped into a dream of the sea or perhaps the belly of a gentle beast.

Dining Room

From the salon, wander further along the Noble Floor, you’ll find a formal dining room. Bathed in shifting color, the room feels almost liquid, light pours through the stained glass and dances across the surfaces. Above you, the ceiling coils into a vast spiral, a sculpted swirl of plaster that seems to move slowly, like water circling in a still tidepool. Crafted in flowing, poured-concrete curves, Gaudí shaped it to evoke a tranquil sea caught in a moment of stillness.

The Inner Courtyard

At the back of the Noble Floor, Gaudí created a small private inner courtyard, an open-air retreat tucked quietly behind the house. Step through the glass doors, and you’re met with a charming patio lined with mosaic-tiled planters and playful railings. This part of the house has been recently meticulously restored, revealing Gaudí’s signature touches: vivid tiles, organic curves, and rhythmic patterns that mirror the front-facing design. This quiet garden spot underscores one of Gaudí’s central beliefs, that architecture should nurture the senses.

The courtyard is surrounded by undulating walls clad in ceramic tiles, blues, greens, and soft whites that echo the watery palette found throughout the house. At ground level, you’ll spot a whimsical fountain, with water gently trickling from a spout into a tiled basin. It’s small and modest, but its sound is everything, a quiet, calming rhythm in a home that was designed to breathe and move. The fountain’s basin is covered in trencadís, the signature broken-tile mosaic style Gaudí made famous, and its shimmering surface catches the light like ripples on a pond.

Peering up from the inner courtyard, you’ll notice a series of balconies and terraces projecting from the back of the building. The balcony railings are made of wrought iron, curved in soft, wave-like lines that echo the organic shapes throughout the rest of the house.

Look closely at the edges of the back façade and you’ll notice a decorative frame of glazed ceramic tiles running along the top and sides. These aren’t just leftovers or simplified designs; they’re carefully placed, luminous tiles in shades of blue, green, and white that mirror the palette of the central lightwell. The tilework forms a kind of ornamental border, like a frame around a painting, drawing your eye toward the center of the building and creating a visual harmony between the lower courtyard and the rooms above.

The Light Well Atrium

Moving upward through the house, you enter the central atrium, the heart of Gaudí’s vision for channelling light and air into every corner of Casa Batlló. This tall, sky-lit shaft rises through the very core of the building, and standing at its center, looking up or down, you feel as though you’re suspended inside a vast azure ocean cavern.

The walls of the atrium are tiled in a gradient of blue and white ceramic tiles, creating an optical illusion of uniform colour. Notice that the tiles at the very top, near the overhead glass skylight, are a rich, deep cobalt blue, while those at the lower levels are much paler. This wasn’t just for beauty (though it’s undeniably beautiful).

It was designed to distribute light evenly throughout the building. The higher floors, which get more direct sunlight, reflect it off the darker tiles; the lower floors, where it’s dimmer, are brightened by the lighter ones. Standing inside, it almost feels like being underwater, gazing up toward the surface. Gaudí essentially “tuned” the building’s light like a composer arranging music, ensuring no apartment was left in gloom.

As you make your way up the stairs or glide past on the elevator through the central atrium, take a moment to notice how seamlessly function and beauty intertwine here. Each level is lined with gracefully curved wooden windows that open onto the lightwell, not just decorative, but entirely practical. Many are fitted with adjustable wooden slats, allowing the residents to fine-tune airflow and light. Long before modern ventilation systems, Gaudí had created a kind of natural air-conditioning shaft, cleverly designed to keep the home cool, breathable, and filled with light.

The Attic

Continuing your ascent, you reach the attic level of Casa Batlló, known as the loft. Stepping through a small doorway, you enter a space that’s unexpectedly serene, bright, white, and stripped of ornament, yet quietly extraordinary. Unlike the vivid, richly decorated levels below, the attic is almost entirely monochrome: smooth white plaster, simple tiled floors, and soft, natural light filtering in from above. But don’t let its simplicity fool you, this is one of the most structurally inventive parts of the house.

Originally designed as the building’s service quarters, this floor once housed the laundry rooms, storage spaces, and the everyday work areas for the household staff. But Gaudí, true to form, refused to treat even the attic as merely functional. Instead, he transformed it into a space of quiet architectural poetry. The most dramatic feature here is a sequence of sixty catenary arches, elegant, parabolic curves made of bone-white plaster that repeat in perfect rhythm, forming a long, vaulted corridor. Many liken it to the skeleton of a whale, while others, drawing on Gaudí’s symbolism, view it as the inner framework of the dragon that coils across the rooftop above.

The Rooftop Terrace

Stepping onto the rooftop feels like the final act of a breathtaking theatrical performance, one composed in tile, wood, and light. At one end of the rooftop terrace, the eye is immediately drawn to a bulbous mosaic-clad tower, crowned by a striking four-armed cross, a feature you’ve likely already noticed from the street below. Up close, it’s even more fascinating. The cross is aligned to the cardinal directions, rising from a turret-like base shimmering with colourful ceramic. It serves a dual purpose: both a ventilation shaft and a powerful symbolic centerpiece.

Many interpret this sculptural element as Saint George’s lance, driven into the back of the dragon, the very creature the rooftop is said to represent. It’s a fitting homage, as Saint George (Sant Jordi) is Catalonia’s patron saint.

Across the rooftop there are 27 chimneys, arranged into sculptural clusters that twist upward like candy-colored totems. Each one is cloaked in trencadís mosaic, echoing the colors of the dragon’s back and shimmering in the sun. But these aren’t just decorative: Gaudí designed their spiraling forms to prevent backdrafts, turning an everyday function into a visual delight.

Many of the chimneys are capped with smooth glass orbs, some of which were filled with colored sand to catch and refract light. From a distance, they look like mushrooms, chess pieces, or enchanted trees, it’s easy to imagine the Batlló children inventing stories about them, dreaming up magical worlds above the rooftops of Barcelona.

As you stroll the terrace, the surface itself gently swells and dips, echoing the curves of the dragon beneath your feet. From this high vantage point, you get sweeping views of the city, Passeig de Gràcia stretching out below, the gridded streets of the Eixample unfolding into the distance, and beyond, the skyline punctuated by spires.

Before heading back down, pause for one last look. Let your fingers brush the glazed tiles, watch the light shift across the mosaic skin, and hold that feeling for a moment.

As you step back out onto Passeig de Gràcia, take one last look up at the house, its mosaic skin catching the light, its balconies still watching silently from above, and let the surreal beauty of it all linger with you just a little longer.

Happy Travels, Adventurers

The post The Ultimate Unforgettable Self-Guided Casa Batlló Tour in Barcelona first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.

In Catalan, Bellesguard means “beautiful view”, and as you make your way through this site, you’ll start to see why. This self-guided tour will lead you through one of Antoni Gaudí’s most unusual and intimate creations. This building doesn’t clamour for attention but quietly pulls you in with layers of history, mystery, and an unexpectedly emotional glimpse into Catalonia’s past.

Table Of Contents

1. History
2. Architecture
3. Viaducte de Bellesguard
4. Outdoor Fragments of the Past
5. Gardens
6. The Dragon Facade
7. The Vestibule
8. The Private Quarters
9. The Attic
10. The Rooftop: Air and Light

History

Antoni Gaudí was captivated by Catalonia’s medieval past, and Torre Bellesguard gave him the rare chance to honour it directly. By the time he began work on Torre Bellesguard in 1900, he was nearly 50 and entering the most experimental phase of his career. He had already completed projects like Palau Güell and El Capricho, but hadn’t yet built Casa Batlló or La Pedrera.

The site he chose wasn’t random. Tucked into the quiet neighbourhood of Sant Gervasi were the long-forgotten ruins of a Gothic palace built in 1408 for Martin I of Aragon, known as Martin the Humane, the last ruler of the House of Barcelona. Over the centuries, the palace crumbled into ruin. Locals said bandits once hid among the stones, and wild vines crept over the remains.

By the time the 20th century dawned, only fragments of the medieval stronghold were left, waiting quietly for someone to bring them back to life. Centuries later, one of Gaudí’s close friends, Bishop Joan Grau i Vallespinós (who had also commissioned Gaudí’s Episcopal Palace in Astorga), passed away, leaving a will that ordered his properties be sold to fund a college.

Gaudí, always attuned to stories hidden in stone, realized one of those properties held the crumbling remains of King Martin’s former estate. It was too symbolic to allow it to pass into history. Gaudí personally arranged for the estate to be sold to Maria Sagués, widow of wealthy flour trader Jaume Figueras and a devoted admirer of his work. Between 1900 and 1909, he built her a home that wasn’t just a residence; it was a poetic tribute. Using the language of Catalan civil Gothic architecture, he crafted a house that reads like a love letter to a lost kingdom.

Architecture

Torre Bellesguard is unlike any other building Gaudí designed, and that’s saying something. At first glance, it feels more like a castle than a house. There are battlements along the roofline, a tall stone tower crowned with a four-armed cross, and pointed arches that nod clearly to the Gothic past. But look a little closer, and you’ll start to see how Gaudí twists the familiar. This isn’t a copy of a medieval palace. It’s a reimagining. A tribute. A story told in stone, but with all the hallmarks of Gaudí’s evolving, modernist vision.

Viaducte de Bellesguard

Before stepping through the gates, take a minute outside to take notice of a stone structure running parallel to the street above. It’s not part of the medieval castle; it’s a viaduct, built by Gaudí around 1908 to reroute the old cemetery path and cross over the old riera de Betlem stream that once ran below the property. Gaudí crafted it from the same local stone that blankets Torre Bellesguard, featuring nine subtly catenary arches balanced on inclined, elephant-leg pillars, a design strategy he would later refine in the famous viaducts at Park Güell.

Outdoor Fragments of the Past

Passing through the entry gates, pause. Before you even step fully onto the grounds, you’re already brushing up against six centuries of Catalan history. To your left, nearly hidden behind some shrubs and easily missed if you’re rushing ahead, are the final standing fragments of the original 15th-century palace. These stones once formed part of the residence of King Martin the Humane, the last monarch of the House of Barcelona. Weathered and worn, they rise just slightly from the earth, softened by time, but still defiantly present. Look closely: you’ll see how they lean into Gaudí’s newer walls, a quiet layering of old and new. He didn’t erase the past—he built around it, letting the history peek through.

Now follow the path to the outdoor stone staircase that climbs above the garden wall. From up here, the city opens out below like a map: tiled rooftops, clustered spires, a shimmer of sea in the distance. This elevated platform was once part of the palace’s outer defences. Gaudí preserved it and transformed it into a contemplative perch. You’re standing exactly where royal guards may have kept watch, or where King Martin himself once waited, scanning the horizon for ships returning from Sardinia, unaware that the news they carried would end his bloodline.

Just beside the staircase, keep an eye out for panels of glazed tiles embedded in the base of the garden wall. The blue and yellow ones echo the tiling used inside the house, while the teal and golden tones subtly recall the carnation-patterned tiles from Casa Vicens. It’s a quiet detail, but one that feels intentional, like Gaudí was leaving behind a visual thread to connect his homes, weaving one story into the next.

Whispering Bench

Take a seat on the long curved bench in the front garden. At first glance, it looks like a simple stone bench, wrapped in shards of trencadís mosaic and hugging the edge of the path like a quiet decorative feature. But lean in close, whisper something at one end, and the sound will travel along the curve to someone seated at the other. It’s a whispering bench, an acoustic trick that feels like something between a secret and a spell. Gaudí loved playing with sound and form, and here, even a bench becomes an instrument of delight.

Gardens

The gardens around the palace are carefully composed sets of Mediterranean and historic species that echo the layers of story on the site. Gaudí and the Figueras family organically blended ornamental and practical plantings, creating a lush tapestry that feels alive with memory. According to historical records, the original 15th-century castle grounds were planted with fruit trees, including pears, bitter oranges, and lemons. Fruit trees provided jam-making fruit for Maria Figueras’s kitchen.

You’ll find these same species in the garden today, along with thoughtful additions like mulberry, cypress, bay, oleander, linden, palm, cedar, Indian chestnut, willow, and pittosporum, planted under the guidance of early caretakers like Pere Ballart i Ventura and still thriving in the Guilera-era restoration. Oleanders bloom, their fragrant clusters lifting the air. Young linden shoots give shade and rustle overhead. Even smaller flora, simple floral groundcover and Mediterranean shrubs, are there to echo the poetry Án Jacint Verdaguer wrote about Bellesguard being “cheerful, green and blooming… like April.”

At the heart of Torre Bellesguard’s courtyard stands a majestic cypress tree, a silent sentinel and a symbol in its own right. Standing tall and evergreen, this cypress nods to ancient traditions, its wood once revered for temples, its form linked to both death and hospitality in Mediterranean culture. Architecturally, it also echoes the signature forms of the property, most notably in the four-armed Gaudí cross atop the tower, which is inspired by the opening of a cypress cone (called a galbulus). The tree’s elegant silhouette mirrors that of the cross, reinforcing the connection between garden and architecture.

The Dragon Facade

Stand back from the front of Torre Bellesguard and let your eyes adjust to more than just the structure. The entire façade has been designed to subtly resemble the face of a dragon, watching over the city like a silent guardian. The two slim, pointed windows just beneath the turret form the eyes, narrow and watchful, set beneath angled brows formed by the sharp geometry of the upper wall. Just below, the main entrance, with its pointed arch and heavy framing, evokes a snout or mouth, reinforced by the stepped, tooth-like stonework around it. The building’s sharply pitched roofline becomes the dragon’s spine, rising into battlements and crowned by a four-armed cross, a symbolic spear piercing the dragon’s back, a nod to Saint George (Sant Jordi), the patron saint of Catalonia. More on that legend a little later when we get inside!

Dragons appear throughout his work, always layered with meaning. At Park Güell, the most famous feature is the vibrant trencadís-covered dragon fountain at the base of the stairway, sometimes referred to as “El Drac.” At Casa Batlló, the roof itself curves like the back of a dragon, complete with scaly tiles and a turret cross representing Saint George’s lance. Even in his designs for lampposts and gates, such as those at Finca Güell, dragon forms twist through wrought iron, their wings outstretched or tails coiled.

Front Door Passage

Above the main entrance to Torre Bellesguard, delicately woven into the wrought iron of the tympanum, are the words: “Ave Maria Purísima, sin pecado concebida.” This phrase, “Hail Mary Most Pure, conceived without sin”, is a traditional Catholic invocation to the Virgin Mary. It reflects Gaudí’s deeply held faith and the spiritual symbolism that runs quietly through all his work.

As part of his homage to Catalonia’s medieval heritage, Gaudí reimagined the traditional semi-circular arch, seen for centuries above the doors of Catalan farmhouses and noble palaces. But instead of simple stonework, he framed the entrance of Torre Bellesguard with a striking mosaic relief made from specially crafted pieces. These weren’t just decorative tiles. They were voussoirs, the wedge-shaped stones that form an arch, recast in Gaudí’s modernist style using squared, hexagonal, and octagonal forms made of stone and mortar, a technique that dates back to Roman times.

Beneath the inscription, you may also spot a fish-shaped monogram, crowned and entwined with the letters M and A (for Maria and Ave). The fish is one of the earliest Christian symbols, an ancient sign of belief and rebirth.

At the center of the façade, just above the main door, you’ll see an eight-pointed star, an octagonal rosette known as the Star of Venus. Traditionally, it’s a symbol associated with the Virgin Mary, love, fertility, and divine guidance. But here, it carries a deeper, more bittersweet meaning. It quietly echoes the hopes of King Martin the Humane, who, in the final years of his reign, married Queen Margarida de Prades on this very site. The goal was simple but urgent: to produce an heir and save the Catalan royal line. The star was installed as a symbol of hope, but sadly, that never came to pass. The marriage was short. No child was born. And with Martin’s death, the House of Barcelona ended.

Set into the wall just beneath the trilobed stairwell window, Gaudí placed a vibrant mosaic plaque bearing the word “Bellesguard”. The letters are spelled out in a stylized Art Nouveau typeface, framed by shards of trencadís mosaic in red, white, and gold. The background shimmers slightly in the sun, catching the light with the uneven, fractured texture. Look closely, and you’ll notice the red and yellow palette mirrors the Catalan flag, subtly tying the name of the house to the broader identity of the region.

Mosaic Benches

On the right-hand mosaic bench, you’ll find a vessel with a white sail gliding into the sunshine, symbolizing the hopeful arrival of news from Sardinia. But that first ship is a bittersweet one. It carried both triumph and tragedy: news of victory at the Battle of Sanluri, and the death of Martin’s only son, “the death with white sails” as the palace legend tells it. On the left bench, another ship sails into sunset, paired with the date 1410, the year Martin died, and the House of Barcelona came to an end. Both pieces of mosaic storytelling are part of a carefully structured allegory: the rise and fall of a dynasty, frozen in stone but carried in the story of ships.

The Vestibule

Step inside, and the space opens up, filled with light and white plaster. An almost shocking contrast to the dark, gothic exterior. This area is called the vestibule. Here, the main staircase winds upward through the heart of the home. Look closely at the tiled walls and you’ll spot roosters and lions, added in 1916 by Domènech Sugrañes, Gaudí’s trusted collaborator. Their presence isn’t just decorative; it’s symbolic. The lion, often linked to royalty, likely honours King Martin I, who once ruled from this hill. But the rooster? Its meaning is more mysterious.

Some believe the animals reference the coat of arms of Queen Margarida de Prades, Martin’s second wife. Others suggest the rooster may nod to Violant de Bar, a French queen connected to the royal house of Barcelona. Still others read spiritual meaning into the pair: the lion as Christ the King, the rooster as the bringer of light. No definitive explanation survives, just a set of elegant clues left for us to ponder.

Decorated in rich tiles, the water fountain in the vestibule was added by Gaudí’s trusted collaborator, Domènec Sugrañes. While it might seem like a simple, even obvious feature today, its presence here carries a much deeper significance. After its early life as a private residence, Torre Bellesguard quietly transformed into a place of healing. In 1944, it was purchased by Dr. Lluís Guilera Molas, a well-known Catalan oncologist, who converted the home into a private cancer clinic and laboratory. His son, Dr. Lluís Guilera Soler, later continued that legacy, this time as a maternity doctor. Between the 1940s and early 1970s, countless local children were born within these walls.

For the families and patients who passed through this space, that quiet fountain in the heart of the house wasn’t just decorative; it represented healing, purity, and renewal. A small but powerful symbol of the care once offered here.

St. George and the Dragon

Tucked in one corner is an iron coat rack with a horse engraved on it, part of a St. George and the dragon scene. It’s the only original piece of furniture left from the Figueras family. The legend of Saint George runs deep in Catalonia’s history. Though the saint was a Roman soldier martyred in the 4th century, his story didn’t take root here until the time of King Martin I in the late 14th century, the very same monarch who built his royal residence on the hill now crowned by Torre Bellesguard.

Back then, Saint George’s feast day on April 23 was celebrated mainly by the nobility. Over time, though, the tradition grew, gaining broader popularity until it was officially declared a Catalan holiday in the 15th century. Roses were exchanged in the courtyard of the Palau de la Generalitat, and the legend made its way into Catalan literature and art.

Look up, and you’ll see a ceiling of scalloped, lobed arches, recalling the forms of Andalusian palaces. These Mudejar-inspired vaults are supported by slender parallel arches made entirely of brick. Gaudí borrowed from Gothic and Islamic traditions but made the forms his own, drawing on the structure of a rib cage, or the vein of a leaf. Everywhere you look, nature and geometry are speaking the same language.

As you make your way up the stairwell window, you can look out the great Star of Venus window, and study closely the deep blue arch studded with small white ceramic stars. By surrounding the central star window with this celestial pattern, Gaudí creates the feeling of a night sky. a visual invocation of the heavens that echoes both Marian devotion and cosmic order.

Its horseshoe shape, along with the intricate geometric patterns and jewel-toned glass, recalls the influence of Islamic and Mudéjar architecture that Gaudí so often drew upon. The use of deep blues, rich reds, and patterned tile-like framing evokes the kind of sacred geometry found in Andalusian mosques and palaces.

Hanging in the main stairwell of Torre Bellesguard is a striking wrought iron and stained-glass chandelier, designed by Gaudí’s collaborator Domènec Sugrañes. With its graceful curves and organic ironwork, it mirrors the natural motifs found throughout the house, while its softly colored glass, shades of green, amber, and violet, casts a warm, shifting glow across the white walls.

The Private Quarters

In several upper-level rooms, Gaudí included small stained-glass panels, often featuring green, violet, and amber colours, set within narrow windows or at the intersections of rib vaults. These panels filter sunlight into softly colored beams that shift through the day, casting warm, ethereal hues across the stark white walls. While they subtly enhance the ambiance, they serve a deeper purpose: Gaudí described these hues as “ephemeral paintings of God”.

Inside the Salon, an L-shaped drawing room filled with light, Gaudí created a balcony meant to evoke the royal mirador. On this legendary lookout, King Martin the Humane once stood, gazing toward the horizon. In 1409, the king was awaiting ships from Sardinia: one carried news of military victory, the other bore a far heavier message, his only son, Martí the Younger, had died. That moment marked the end of the royal line of the House of Barcelona. Gaudí, ever the storyteller, subtly wove that memory into the architecture. This balcony, angled southeast toward the sea, isn’t just a viewpoint; it’s a place of suspended hope.

The Attic

Climbing up and up again, you’ll reach the attic, known as the “Hall of Bricks.” A series of red brick catenary arches ripple across the ceiling, like the inside of a rib cage. Very unusual for the time, Gaudí stacked two attics on top of each other, layered like a gentleman shielding himself with a hat and a parasol. The lower attic, originally meant for washing and drying clothes, is a wide, open space unlike anything you’d expect from a utility room.

Eight mushroom-shaped brick pillars support it, and from these rise delicate fan-like arches, subtle, sweeping, and inspired by Mudejar architecture. The ceiling slab is formed from alternating layers of thick and thin bricks, almost like the rings of a tree. Above this, the upper attic is smaller and more enclosed, capped with a vaulted ceiling in an ogival (pointed arch) shape. A winding staircase curves around the roof to reach the very top: the lookout terrace.

The chamber’s design creates exceptional acoustics, with its parabolic brick vaults producing a natural, echoing resonance that perfectly suits chamber music. Even before Torre Bellesguard opened to the public, the attic was already being used for early classical music concerts in the 1980s. In more recent years, it has continued this tradition, hosting intimate acoustic performances that highlight the space’s unique sound qualities and Gaudí’s unexpected gift for designing with music in mind.

The Rooftop: Air and Light

One final set of stairs brings you to the rooftop. From here, Barcelona stretches out below in every direction. Battlements, so reminiscent of a medieval fortress, circle the building like a crown. The slender tower, topped with a four-armed cross, is oriented to the cardinal points. It rests on a spiral mosaic of red and yellow glass: the Catalan flag, wrapped around a stone crown honouring King Martin I. The cross atop the turret pierces the sky like a sword, echoing the myth of Saint George (Sant Jordi), Catalonia’s patron saint, who famously slayed a dragon.

But perhaps the most dragon-like detail isn’t the cross or the battlements, it’s found when you look at the two narrow skylight windows set low into the slope of the roof, peering outward like a pair of sharp eyes. Just beneath them, a slightly rounded protrusion in the slate tiles suggests a snout or nostrils, giving the rooftop an uncanny, creature-like presence.

The Torre Bellesguard is indeed probably one of the least visited Gaudí buildings, and yet it is so worth the visit because it offers something the others don’t: a sense of quiet, layered reflection. Here, Gaudí isn’t working at his most flamboyant; he’s working with restraint, respect, and a deep love of Catalonia’s past. I hope you enjoyed our self-guided tour, where medieval ruins, royal tragedy, dragons, and modernist invention all collide.

Happy Travels, Adventurers

The post The Ultimate Self-Guided Tour of Torre Bellesguard, Barcelona’s Hidden Gem first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.

When I stepped inside in 2024, it felt like entering the pages of someone’s imagination, bursting with colour, alive with freedom, full of the energy of an artist on the edge of discovering his voice. And yet, somehow, it remains one of Gaudí’s most overlooked creations in Barcelona. Honestly? If I had to choose just one Gaudí site to recommend, this would be it. This self-guided tour will take you through every vibrant detail, from the tiled garden fences to the honeycomb ceilings and storybook bedrooms!

Table Of Contents

1. History of Casa Vicens
2. The Façade
3. The Garden
4. The Ground Floor
5. The Attic
6. The Rooftop Terrace

History of Casa Vicens

At the time he began work on Casa Vicens, Antoni Gaudí was just 30 years old, ambitious, fresh out of architecture school, and still largely unknown. He was a young architect with big ideas and a deep love for nature, geometry, and craft. Born in Reus (or possibly nearby Riudoms) in 1852, Gaudí had grown up with a father who was a coppersmith, surrounded by tools, patterns, and the tactile world of making things by hand. His health was fragile, so he spent long stretches of childhood in the countryside, observing the natural forms that would later shape his architecture: spirals, leaves, honeycombs, bones.

When he graduated from the Barcelona School of Architecture in 1878, his diploma famously came with a caveat. The director allegedly said, “We have given this academic title either to a madman or a genius, only time will tell.” Casa Vicens was Gaudí’s first chance to prove which.

It was a small commission, a summer home for a tile manufacturer, tucked in what was then the independent village of Gràcia, but Gaudí didn’t treat it like a side project. He approached it like a manifesto. At the time Gaudí began designing Casa Vicens, the Gràcia neighbourhood wasn’t even part of Barcelona yet, it was its own town, with cobbled lanes, convent gardens, and a calm that felt far from the chaos of the city. This made it a perfect setting for a summer home. The style Gaudí chose was equally independent: an eclectic blend of Neo-Mudéjar, Islamic, and Oriental influences, layered with the vibrant textures of ceramic, brick, and wrought iron.

Restoration

After spending over a century as a private residence, Casa Vicens underwent a careful restoration between 2015 and 2017. Led by architects Elías Torres and José Antonio Martínez Lapeña, the project peeled back years of alterations to recover Gaudí’s original vision. Lost elements like latticework and garden features were reconstructed, while details such as stucco vines and ceramic tiles were revived using traditional 19th-century methods. Once hidden from public view, the house is now open to all, and it’s easy to see why it was declared a Historic-Artistic Monument in 1969 and earned UNESCO World Heritage status in 2005.

The Façade

Before stepping through the doors, take a moment to stand back and soak it all in. The main façade of Casa Vicens faces what was once the lush summer garden, a detail that was far from accidental. Gaudí meticulously studied how light and air would flow through the structure, ensuring this summer home would remain cool, bright, and comfortable during the hottest months of the year. After all, this was long before air conditioning, a luxury that many in Barcelona are sorely lacking.

The entire exterior is a carnival of colour and texture. You’ll see an almost obsessive layering of materials: wrought iron twisted into palm fronds, warm terracotta brickwork, painted wood, and most iconic of all, green and white checkerboard tiles emblazoned with Moorish carnation motifs. These tiles aren’t just for show. They anchor the house in a conversation with Islamic, Eastern, and Mudejar traditions, while also showcasing Gaudí’s signature flair for merging art with local craft.

The garden gate, made of wrought iron by Joan Oñós and based on a clay model by sculptor Llorenç Matamala, showcases a repeating pattern of palm leaves and marigold. That palm-shaped wrought iron gate at the entrance wasn’t a design flourish pulled from fantasy; it came straight from life. Gaudí took inspiration from a real palm tree that once stood on the site. And the tiled carnation motifs came from the same yellow flowers blooming wild across the property before construction began. Guadi decided to honour them with every ceramic repeat, a natural motif that echoes throughout the entire house and garden.

The Garden

Before stepping inside, take time to explore the interior garden. In the late 19th century, the garden was far larger, a sprawling sanctuary that included fountains, plant beds, and even a waterfall beneath a soaring parabolic arch. These elements weren’t just aesthetic. They helped cool the house, refresh the air, and connect daily life to the rhythms of nature.

Today, what remains is a thoughtfully recreated 300-square-meter garden oasis nestled in the heart of Gràcia. Beds of Mediterranean plants, elegant urns, and a landscaped rooftop echo the original design. A towering magnolia and an old oak still stand tall, living relics of Gaudí’s time. The other greenery was selected during restoration to reflect 19th-century Catalan horticulture.

Tiled benches line the walkways, inviting you to sit and linger. The wrought-iron gate and garden fences, twisting with vegetal motifs, seem to have grown straight out of the earth.

One of the most charming features on the exterior of the enclosed porch is the frieze that runs along the gallery’s exterior walls, inscribed with fragments of Catalan folk verses. On the southeast side, the sun is summoned with “Sol, solet, vinam a veure” (“Sun, little sun, come and see me”). The northwest wall whispers “Oh, la sombra de l’istiu” (“Oh, summer shadow”), while the southwest glows with the warmth of hearth and heart: “De la llart lo foch, visca lo foch de l’amor” (“The fire of the hearth, long live the fire of love”).

The Ground Floor

Foyer and Dining Room

The first level of the home was where the hub of daily life for the Vicens family occurred. And the most important space was the dining room. It’s the largest and most decorative space on the ground floor, surrounded by a suite of interconnected rooms: the enclosed porch, the smoking room, the foyer, and the original kitchen. Gaudí envisioned this entire level as an immersive garden, not one outside, but one within. Every tile, ceiling, and carved panel draws inspiration from the natural world, transforming the act of living into something poetic.

Inside the 32-square-meter dining room, you’re immediately immersed in a world of texture and nature-inspired artistry. A living tapestry. Along the upper walls, golden backgrounds shimmer behind delicate stucco ivy that seems to climb and curl its way around the space. Stucco was a versatile medium. It could be sculpted wet, carved, or layered with colour. That flexibility let Gaudí mimic the delicate veins of a leaf or the soft curve of a fern in high relief across walls and ceilings. And unlike imported materials or mass-produced mouldings, stucco was made and shaped on-site by local artisans, often under Gaudí’s close direction. That made every detail feel bespoke, crafted, and human. In Casa Vicens, the result is remarkable: walls that seem to be a living creature.

Look up, and you’ll see ivy starting to unfurl overhead. Roses wind their way around the crown moulding, while seashells seem to bloom at the ceiling’s edge. Between the beams, papier-mâché garlands of fruit and arbutus leaves drape like a suspended garden, forming a rich, decorative canopy above.

Beneath your feet is something remarkable: a genuine Roman-style opus tessellatum mosaic floor, its geometric precision adding a classical counterpoint to the whimsical decor above.

Flanking the entry to the adjoining tribune space are two vertical panels adorned with incredibly lifelike flora and fauna, painted by artist Francesc Torrescassana. Birds fill the scene, sparrows, hummingbirds, herons, cranes, and flamingos, twenty-four in total. All appear mid-flight, wings outstretched in motion, save for a small group of flamingos standing still at the base. Leaves rustle as if stirred by a passing breeze.

Against the far wall, a richly detailed fireplace anchors the room, its surround crafted in sculpted, glazed ceramic relief, warming the space both literally and visually.

The Enclosed Porch

From the dining room, you can step out through either of the double doors onto the enclosed porch. Wrapping around the edge of the house, the porch serves as a transitional space between indoors and out. With wooden slatted shutters that open onto the garden and sgraffito detailing overhead, the porch was designed to invite in breezes and birdsong, creating a gentle threshold between the home’s inner sanctuary and the lush world outside.

At the center of the porch stands a curious and beautifully layered fountain. It begins at the base with a Plateresque baptismal font, round in shape, ornate in detail, into which a square platform tiled in sunflower-leaf motifs has been placed. Rising from this is a slender marble column, topped by a circular basin adorned with the faces of cherubs. Water spills gently from their mouths. Hovering above, a delicate elliptical metal mesh hangs like a spider’s web catching morning dew.

Restoration of the Lattice Work

Framing the structure were two-meter-wide wooden lattice screens that filtered light and softened the view like something out of a dream. These slatted panels were inspired by Eastern design principles and closely resemble shitomido, the adjustable shutters found in traditional Japanese homes. Gaudí likely encountered these during a Japanese architecture exhibition held in Barcelona in 1881, and as with so much of his work, he absorbed the idea and made it his own.

But these delicate lattices disappeared for decades. After Casa Vicens passed to new owners, a major renovation transformed the home’s structure, and its soul. What had been a unified family retreat was carved into three separate apartments, one per floor. Gaudí’s breathable latticework was replaced with solid glass panes. The result was a more insulated, climate-controlled space, but it sacrificed the breezy, open-air feeling that once connected the interior to the garden. Perhaps the greatest loss was the removal of the central fountain, once the sensory heart of the grandstand. Thankfully, the recent restoration has brought them both back. The lattices once again play with shadow and breeze, and the fountain sings quietly, just as Gaudí intended.

Wooden benches line either side of the fountain, offering a shaded, serene space to sit and breathe. Overhead, the sgraffito ceiling blossoms with curling pomegranates and soft hydrangeas, their forms etched into layers of plaster and then painted to enhance the texture and depth. But it’s the illusionistic painting between these floral borders that truly draws the eye. Here, Gaudí employed a technique known as trompe-l’oeil, a French term meaning “deceive the eye.” It’s an art method that uses realistic imagery to create the optical illusion of three-dimensional space on a flat surface. In this case, painted panels mimic open sky, as if the roof had peeled away.

The Smoking Room

Beside the dining room is one of the most entrancing spaces in the entire house, the smoking room. Stepping inside, the atmosphere thickens. The colours deepen into rich jewel tones, the light becomes softer, more sacred. It doesn’t just feel like a lounge. It feels like a chapel. Not one of worship in the traditional sense, but a sanctuary of contemplation, of storytelling, of slow smoke curling into the air while conversations drift like incense. Inspired by Islamic and Orientalist architecture, Gaudí designed this room as a deliberate escape. Every wall is cloaked in geometric tilework, bold in colour and repetition, wrapping the space like a prayer rug rendered in ceramic. Benches along the walls invite pause and stillness.

But the ceiling is what transforms the room entirely. It rises above in a glimmering canopy of muqarnas, a form of ornamental vaulting borrowed from Islamic design, reimagined in Gaudí’s own language. Crafted from papier-mâché, these scale-like forms shimmer in tones of green, blue, and bronze, catching the light as if the room itself were breathing. There’s a surreal, almost aquatic beauty to it, like being inside the ribcage of a dragon or under a sacred palm frond in some mythical garden.

The First Floor

The Master Bedroom

Heading upstairs, we enter the first floor, where the family’s bedrooms and personal spaces are located. The primary bedroom is thoughtfully split into two zones, each defined by a different colour scheme and decorative theme. One side blooms in soft pinks, with delicate sgraffito blackberry vines crawling across the walls and ceramic ceiling coffers sprinkled with ivy motifs.

The adjacent half immerses you in serene blues, ornamented with passionflower and foliage designs. This duality feels intentional, playful, even poetic, offering subtly different moods in one unified space.

The Pink Room

The pink room feels like a delicate bloom. Soft rose-toned walls are graced with curling blackberry vine sgraffito, reaching across plastered surfaces like nature’s own wallpaper. Above, the ceiling coffers are edged with whimsical ivy motifs, while the terracotta-tiled floor grounds the space in earthy warmth. A private terrace overlooks the garden, encouraging quiet morning reveries and making the entire nook feel as though it belongs to a child’s daydream

The Blue Bedroom

Directly across the hall lies the blue bedroom. Above, a ceramic coffered ceiling stretches out like a flowering canopy. Blackberry vines twist between the beams, forming a patterned tangle of fruit and foliage. But what really draws the eye are the passionflowers, blooming prominently among the decorative elements.

Known as the “flower of Christ,” the passionflower carries centuries of spiritual symbolism. Its unusual structure has long been interpreted as a metaphor for the crucifixion: a crown of thorns, wounds, nails, and more, all hidden within a bloom. Gaudí, who was as much a mystic as he was a modernist, wove this layered symbolism into the very bones of the room.

The Domed Room

At the far end of the first floor is a curious, round room unlike any other in the house. Often referred to simply as the domed room, this small salon is capped by a shallow, circular dome that gives the entire space a softly celestial feel. Step inside and it almost feels like you’ve wandered into a private observatory, or a chapel, if the stars were made of plaster and paint.

The ceiling is the main event. Its softly vaulted surface is delicately stenciled with floral motifs, subtle, not showy, and rimmed by fine mouldings that create a rhythmic, almost musical repetition around the curve. There’s a quiet intimacy to the scale here. The circular shape makes sound travel in a hushed, echoing way, and the filtered light gives the room a constant dusk-like glow, as if time slows the moment you enter.

Originally, this space served as a sitting room, a place for reading, writing, or simply retreating from the busier parts of the house. You can imagine its use shifting throughout the day, from a sunlit morning nook to an evening hideaway where conversations unfolded slowly, voices lowered by instinct. The room connects to the other bedrooms but feels psychologically distant, a self-contained world of calm.

The Bathrooms

It’s easy to overlook the bathroom in a house so rich with ornament, but pause here, and you’ll realize it’s one of Casa Vicens’ quiet marvels. Not just for its aesthetic beauty, but because it represented a level of modern comfort that was rare for the time. Running water in the late 19th century wasn’t standard in most private homes, especially not in summer residences. But Gaudí, ever ahead of the curve, incorporated a fully functioning bathroom into the Vicens family’s first floor. This wasn’t just plumbing, it was an embrace of a new way of living. Clean, efficient, hygienic. For the family, it meant cool baths on hot days, a private space of calm in a season of heat.

The room itself is a small jewel box. Sunlight filters in to illuminate the glossy white and blue ceramic tiles that wrap the walls. These weren’t chosen at random, Gaudí designed them in a rhythmic pattern that echoes waves and sky. The entire room feels aquatic, almost like stepping into a tiled grotto. It’s airy, fresh, and in harmony with the rest of the home’s botanical spirit.

Terrace Upper

Just off the first floor bedrooms lies one of the most poetic architectural gestures in Casa Vicens, a shared terrace that links the private sleeping quarters to the natural world outside. The terrace wraps along the garden-facing side of the house, framed by slender columns and richly patterned ceramic tiles that continue the floral themes found throughout the home.

Along the low walls and built-in planters, you’ll notice something especially striking: ceramic sunflowers arranged like sculpted guardians of the greenery. Their bold yellow faces bloom against a backdrop of blue and white, brightening the terrace with a permanent sense of summer. These sunflower ornaments aren’t just decorative, they’re part of Gaudí’s larger philosophy of embedding nature, quite literally, into architecture.

The Attic

Originally designed as a functional space for household staff, the attic of Casa Vicens is now home to a permanent exhibition that offers deeper insight into Gaudí’s creative universe. This level is organized around thematic displays that allow visitors to explore the rich tapestry of materials, influences, and techniques Gaudí employed in his first residential project. Tables showcase everything from early ceramic samples to blueprints, historical photographs, and scale models. You can trace how the house evolved over time, spot the changes made during its many renovations, and compare the original architectural plans to what stands today.

One highlight is the facsimile of the Manuscrito de Reus, one of the rare written reflections Gaudí left behind. In it, he outlined his vision for domestic architecture. On a page titled La casa pairal, or “The family home”, he described a house as nothing less than “a family’s tiny nation.”

Also on display are select pieces of original furniture Gaudí designed specifically for the Vicens family’s other residence in Alella.

The Rooftop Terrace

The final act of the house is the rooftop terrace. It’s pure fantasy up here. You can feel the early rumblings of what would later become Gaudí’s signature forms. Turrets. Chimneys. Stripes. Curves. High above the house, the rooftop unfolds into a 150-square-meter open-air space that feels like a quiet sanctuary above the bustle of the street. Of that area, 85 square meters belong to Gaudí’s original design, an architectural fragment from the early 1880s, while the remaining space came later, added during Serra’s thoughtful expansion.

The two halves of the terrace tell their own distinct stories through their structure. Gaudí’s portion is sloped and sculptural, made up of four inclined planes resting on the wooden beams of the attic below. The surface is tiled with traditional curved Arab-style roofing tiles, creating that familiar ripple of terracotta across the top. Cutting through this sloped surface is a narrow circular pathway, formed from fired ceramic tiles. This walkway loops across the roof, leading you toward two key features: the vibrant chimneys and a small shrine tucked into one corner.

The chimneys, true to Gaudí’s artistic sensibilities, are not just functional vents but sculptural features in their own right. Constructed from brick and entirely covered in glossy ceramic tiles, they echo the same visual language as the shrines and add vertical rhythm to the terrace landscape.

Near the entrance to this rooftop world, you’ll also find a remnant from the past: the original gate from Carolinas Street. This ironwork portal once marked the main southeast-facing entrance to the house before the 1925 renovations shifted everything around. Although no longer in use, the gate still retains its charm, featuring circular floral motifs that evoke the naturalist style of the home’s early days.

Casa Vicens isn’t Gaudí at his most monumental; it’s Gaudí at his boldest and most curious, still testing the edges of what architecture could be. That’s part of its magic. It feels like stepping into the pages of an idea, alive with colour and possibility, before the rest of the world knew what he was capable of. I hope this tour helped you see a different side of Gaudí, more personal, more playful. And as you walk back out onto the streets of Gràcia, take a moment to glance back at the house. You’ll see it the way you did at first, but now with new eyes, and a deeper sense of wonder.

Happy Travels, Adventurers

The post The Ultimate Immersive Self-Guided Tour of Casa Vicens in Barcelona first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.

Inside, you’ll walk through stables with mushroom-shaped columns, dining rooms glowing with stained glass, and a main hall that rises like a private cathedral into a lantern-lit dome. And on the roof, you can explore a surreal forest of chimneys. Many visitors to Barcelona skip out on this hidden gem in favour of some of Gaudí’s more famous sights like the Sagrada Família or Park Güell. But I implore you, make time for the lesser-known works too. They reveal a different kind of brilliance. A quieter virtuosity. The raw beginnings of a genius still finding his voice.

Come with me now on a self-guided tour of the Palau to discover the secrets, symbols, and striking beauty tucked inside Gaudí’s first great masterpiece.

Table Of Contents

1. History of Palau Güell
2. Exterior of the Palau Güell
3. Underground Level
4. The Grand Staircase and Mezzanine
5. Central Hall
6. Hidden Chapel
7. The Rear Terrace
8. Second Floor
9. The Rooftop

History of Palau Güell

Antoni Gaudí was still in his thirties when he received the commission for Palau Güell. At the time, he wasn’t yet a household name, but his daring designs and unmistakable flair had already caught the attention of Barcelona’s elite. One of them was Eusebi Güell, a wealthy industrialist, art lover, and one of Gaudí’s most important patrons.

Güell believed in Gaudí’s talent from the start. The two shared a deep connection built on mutual admiration, and Palau Güell became the first major fruit of that creative partnership. Gaudí poured himself into the design, experimenting with space, light, and structure. While Gaudí never lived here, his presence lingers in every curve of iron and echo of alabaster. It was his laboratory. His early masterpiece. The beginning of everything.

Architecture Style

Construction on Palau Güell began in 1886 and was completed in 1890. Gaudí designed it as an urban mansion that connected to Güell’s existing home on La Rambla. He came up with more than two dozen different concepts for the façade alone, refusing to settle for anything that didn’t push creative limits.

This was Gaudí at the height of his Orientalist phase. You can feel the influence of Islamic architecture, Persian domes, and even Japanese wooden details throughout the space. It was meant to be both a family residence and a cultural showpiece, fit for concerts, salons, and gatherings of Barcelona’s elite.

Exterior of the Palau Güell

Pause at the front entrance. See those massive iron gates? They’re not just decoration, they’re alive with movement. Gaudí didn’t just build a barrier here, he sculpted something that feels like it could shift with the wind. The curves ripple like seaweed or tangled vines, twisting up from the ground like they grew there. This is where his obsession with organic form truly begins to take hold. A quiet prelude to the wild, dreamlike shapes he’d later let loose at Park Güell and Casa Batlló. The enormous parabolic arches were made to be tall enough for Güell’s elegant horse-drawn carriages to pass through.

Look closely at the ironwork: writhing snakes form the initials “E” and “G” for Eusebi Güell, and between them, a phoenix perches atop the coat of arms of Catalonia. The detail is wild and mythic, like something from a medieval fever dream.

Vestibule

Stepping through the wrought-iron gates is like slipping through a keyhole into another world. Immediately, you’ll feel it, this space is darker, moodier than most of Gaudí’s sunlit fantasies. It almost catches you off guard. Unlike the light-drenched lobbies of Casa Batlló or the playful brightness of Park Güell, the vestibule of Palau Güell feels heavy. Grounded. The ceiling tiles overhead form flat, low vaults laid out in a hypnotic, concentric pattern, pulling your gaze inward rather than up. It’s almost like walking into a ceremonial chamber.

Light doesn’t flood this space, it trickles in, slipping through iron grilles so intricate they could double as sculpture. The play of shadow and steel here is deliberate. Even the stained glass feels solemn. Look closely at those small windows: blocks of red and yellow glow like quiet embers. They aren’t just for show. They mirror the Catalan flag, a quiet declaration of cultural pride woven into the architecture itself.

The Coach House

Before heading up the stairs, take a few minutes to explore the Coach House, which you can enter through the large oak doors to the right of the stairs. Carriages once rolled through here. And Gaudí, always thinking in practical poetry, used pinewood flooring disguised as stone so the wheels wouldn’t echo through the halls.

Underground Level

Down the ramp, a swirling, brick spiral ramp for horses was Gaudí’s solution for elegant underground stabling. You can still see the horse stalls and feeding troughs. The space smells faintly of history and damp limestone, and it feels almost Roman.

Natural light filters in through narrow slits and oculi, just enough to guide your way. The space is quiet, simple, almost monastic in its utility. But even here, underground, in the realm of horses and stable hands, Gaudí couldn’t help himself.

The curves of the ramp are elegant, the acoustics soft and hushed, and the way light bends around brick columns feels strangely reverent. And then there’s the detail that stops you: the tethering rings. These aren’t just metal loops. They’re sculpted into the heads of mythical beasts and humble animals, a unicorn, a dog, a dragon-like creature, adding a touch of whimsy where you’d least expect it. A bit of fantasy tucked into the most functional part of the house.

The Grand Staircase and Mezzanine

Return upstairs and climb the main staircase, flanked by red marble from Garraf and topped by stained glass glowing with the red-and-gold coat of arms of the Crown of Aragon. Wrought-iron brackets support wooden beams, and the ceilings are rich with bulletwood and ebony. Even the light here seems to soften. There’s a sense of transition. You’re leaving the functional world of stables and entering the palace proper.

At the top of the stairs is an enormous work of art depicting Hercules Searching for the Hesperides, painted around 1890 by Aleix Clapés i Puig, a lesser-known but deeply intriguing Catalan Symbolist and one of Gaudí’s close collaborators. Clapés’ canvas shows the mythological hero Hercules on a journey to find the Garden of the Hesperides, a place shrouded in mystery and guarded by serpents. It’s moody, dreamlike, and charged with a kind of mythic melancholy that pairs beautifully with the palace’s atmosphere.

Hall of Lost Steps

Just before you enter the soaring main salon, you’ll pass through a quieter, more understated space known as the Hall of Lost Steps, or in Catalan, Sala de les Passes Perdudes. The name alone is poetic, evoking footsteps echoing in anticipation. This hall acted as a kind of architectural pause, a threshold between the private residence and the public grandeur of the central hall.

It was here that guests would wait before concerts or receptions, their footsteps quite literally “lost” in the hushed, acoustically softened room. Gaudí kept the decoration minimal by his standards, no dramatic curves or kaleidoscopic windows here, but he didn’t abandon beauty. The finishes are refined, the materials warm, and the proportions elegant. It’s a space that asks you to slow down. To take a breath.

Visitors Halls

Adjacent to the Hall of Lost Steps is the Visitors’ Hall, a richly atmospheric space where guests once waited before entering the main salon. The walls are painted a deep, enveloping red that glows softly in the filtered light, creating a mood that’s both elegant and restrained. Dark wood paneling lines the room, thick, warm, and finely carved.

But it’s the stained glass windows that add a touch of literary mystery. One features a medallion depicting Bertram, Count of Roussillon, a nod to All’s Well That Ends Well by Shakespeare, most likely crafted by the renowned English artist Thomas William Camm (1839–1912). Another stained glass piece shows King Lear, the tragic monarch from Shakespeare’s eponymous play, though the origins of that window remain unknown.

Central Hall

Heading back to the Hall of the Lost Steps, you can enter the main Central Hall. The central hall rises three stories high, capped by a double dome pierced with oculi. Light streams down through honey-colored alabaster panels. It feels sacred, almost like a cathedral. And in a way, it is.

The hall is capped by a double parabolic dome, pierced with tiny oculi that act as celestial pinholes, allowing light to stream down in soft rays. High above is the famous lantern tower, which works like an oversized skylight during the day and a glowing lighthouse at night. In Gaudí’s original design, the lighting was entirely integrated: hidden oil lamps placed strategically behind alabaster panels made the entire structure glow from within. The effect was ethereal, light as architecture, light as emotion. And the acoustics? Perfectly tuned. Music from the organ loft could float effortlessly down into the hall, enveloping every guest in sound.

The horseshoe-shaped balconies that wrap around the upper levels feel like box seats in an opera house. From here, family members or special guests could look down at the events below, unseen behind fine metal grilles that offered privacy without severing the view. The walls are clad in exotic woods, the columns sheathed in polished marble, and even the ventilation system is cleverly integrated into the ornamentation.

Hidden Chapel

One of the most personal and surprising elements is the hidden chapel, discreetly tucked behind folding wooden doors at the far end of the hall. Here, a small altar could be revealed for family masses or religious ceremonies, transforming the salon from social space to sacred space in a matter of moments.

Above the altar hangs Aleix Clapés’ painting Hercules Searching for the Hesperides, a moody Symbolist piece steeped in mythology and Catalan identity. It’s a quiet reminder of the house’s deeper layers—of Gaudí’s desire to fuse art, architecture, and spiritual purpose into one seamless experience. In this room, more than anywhere else in the Palau, you feel like you’re standing at the crossroads of light and shadow, function and fantasy, the earthly and the divine.

If you look closely at the wooden folding panels that separate the central salon from the private chapel, you’ll notice they aren’t just richly carved, they’re also inlaid with paintings. These small, framed works are embedded directly into the wood, each one depicting religious scenes or symbolic imagery that ties into the broader themes of morality, mythology, and devotion.

At one end of the central hall, almost blending into the rich tones of marble and wood, you’ll find a bust of Eusebi Güell, the man who made all of this possible. It’s easy to overlook in a room so architecturally overwhelming, but don’t. The sculpture is quietly commanding. Gaudí placed it here deliberately, not just as a tribute, but as a kind of spiritual anchor for the entire space. The bust captures Güell in solemn profile, his expression thoughtful, even contemplative. His gaze doesn’t meet yours, it’s slightly turned, as if watching over the room or lost in some inner vision.

Dining Room

On the rear side of the main floor, to the left of the chapel, you sneak through a small door that leads you into the formal dining room. This room is crowned with a huge, sculptural fireplace designed by Camil Oliveras, a friend of Gaudí’s who also helped shape the room’s artistic direction.

The walnut furniture is original, built by the legendary craftsman Francesc Vidal Jevellí. It’s heavy, dark, and unmistakably Catalan. The ceiling and skirting boards are covered in finely carved wood with motifs inspired by the William Morris school. Which, interestingly, means Gaudí was riffing off English Arts & Crafts before Modernisme even had a name.

Rear Gallery And Sitting Room

The Rear Gallery is a narrow, enclosed loggia overlooking the private back courtyard, adjoining the dining room. It acts almost like a sunroom hidden behind layers of carved wood and stained glass. A narrow gallery projects outward from the back façade, separated from the room by four elegant parabolic arches. The bench that curves around its inner wall is upholstered in floral-embossed Cordovan leather, a faithful replica of the original that was replaced during the 1992 restoration

Adjacent to the Rear Gallery is a sitting room and at its heart was a quarter grand piano, crafted in Paris between 1881 and 1890 by the prestigious Sébastien Érard workshop. This wasn’t just a showpiece, it was frequently played by Eusebi Güell’s daughters, Isabel and Maria Lluïsa, adding a living, breathing rhythm to the home. You can almost still hear the delicate notes echoing off the paneled walls, a quiet counterpoint to the grandeur of the house.

Adding to the room’s historical richness is an acid-etched stained glass window, made in the Amigó workshop, which depicts soldiers in the dress and arms of the Spanish terços. The design reproduces a fragment of Antonio Pérez Liberated by the People of Zaragoza in 1591, a powerful painting by Catalan artist Manuel Ferrán Bajona. Framed by delicate woodwork, the window adds a layer of patriotic symbolism to this otherwise intimate space, blending cultural history with the warmth of domestic life.

The Rear Terrace

Step outside and you’ll find a quiet courtyard terrace that opens onto the heart of the city block, a hidden pocket of calm in the middle of El Raval’s chaos. Here, Gaudí’s design starts to breathe a little more freely. The rear gallery juts outward with confidence, framed by delicate ironwork and crowned by a wooden canopy that feels almost like the prow of a ship or the eaves of a distant temple.

There’s a shift here. A lightness. The forms aren’t quite the wild curves of Park Güell or the dreamlike whimsy of Casa Batlló, but you can feel Gaudí beginning to loosen his grip on symmetry. The design flirts with fantasy, hesitates at the edge of something more organic. It’s as if he’s sketching in three dimensions, testing ideas in the open air, before he lets them fully bloom in his later work.

Second Floor

At the top of the stairs on the second floor, you’re greeted by a fireplace, but like everything in Palau Güell, it’s far more than just a source of heat. This one dates to 1883, and above it hangs a symbolic panel that quietly reveals the spirit of the home. Designed by Camil Oliveras and executed by Alexandre de Riquer i Inglada, one of Catalonia’s most multifaceted modernist artists, the artwork depicts Saint Elizabeth of Hungary spinning cotton for the poor. It’s a nod to Isabel López i Bru, the lady of the house, whose namesake saint was known for her charity and humility.

The panel itself predates the construction of the building, suggesting it was a meaningful piece set aside for a future that had already begun to take shape. It’s subtle and tender, tucked into the architecture with a sense of reverence. You can feel the weight of domestic ideals here, not grandiosity, but devotion, virtue, and a quiet pride.

Bedrooms

Bedroom 1 is anchored by a richly carved sofa and armchair set, dating to around 1885, crafted by Francesc Vidal i Jevellí, one of the key cabinetmakers of the Catalan modernist era. Though not original to the house, this eclectic furniture feels right at home here. The set is made from walnut wood, with the sofa still upholstered in its original embossed velvet. The armchair’s upholstery is more recent, but the structure remains true to the original vision. Look closely at the armrests, they’re wild with detail, featuring Hydra heads, open wings, and grasping claws. Nature and myth blur together in that distinctly Gaudí-era way: not just decoration, but storytelling through design.

Also tucked into this room is a folding writing desk, or scritore, created around 1905 by Gaspar Homar i Mezquida. Made of walnut, it’s a prime example of modernist cabinetmaking—complete with marquetry inlays and brass fittings. This wasn’t always a bedroom piece. The desk originally belonged to Àngel Guimerà, one of Catalonia’s most celebrated playwrights, and stood in his office on Petritxol Street. After his death, it was transferred to the Museum of Performing Arts, which was housed inside Palau Güell between 1954 and 1996. Its presence here now adds yet another layer to the home’s story: a quiet echo of art, theatre, and literary history folded into the personal space of the family quarters.

Bedroom 2 offers another intimate glimpse into turn-of-the-century domestic life, this time through the refined elegance of a parlour furniture set designed by Joan Busquets i Jané between 1903 and 1908. Although not originally from Palau Güell, the set was donated by a private individual and fits seamlessly within the tone and craftsmanship of the upper floor. Made from mahogany with gold leaf appliqués, the pieces reflect the rich material culture of the era, combining opulence with functionality. The original velvet upholstery remains on the sofa bench and high-back armchairs, providing a vivid contrast to the low-back armchairs, which have lost their original fabric over time.

Also found in Bedroom 2 is a remarkable folding screen, currently undergoing restoration, that brings yet another layer of artistry and symbolism into the space. Created in 1900, the screen features stained glass by Alexandre de Riquer i Inglada, the same multifaceted modernist artist responsible for other decorative works within the house. The central panel of the screen is especially striking, it depicts a serene female figure, an allegory of poetry, gently holding a dandelion seed head, the seeds poised to drift into the air. On either side of her are the busts of Saint George and Princess Sabra, evoking the legendary tale of heroism and sacrifice.

Bedroom 3 offers a particularly rich glimpse into the fusion of design and comfort in the Güell family’s private quarters. Anchoring the room is an elegant sofa crafted around 1890, attributed to Antoni Gaudí and his close collaborator Francesc Berenguer, and built by renowned cabinetmaker Francesc Vidal i Jevellí. Originally placed in the central hall, the sofa is made of mahogany and upholstered in gilt eighteenth-century leather, giving it a deep patina and quiet grandeur.

Complementing the furniture is a bronze sculpture titled Modesty, dated 1891, one of the artist’s more introspective later works. It depicts a female figure with downcast eyes, her posture gentle and reflective.

In Isabel Güell’s study the room is decorated with reproductions of the original ‘cats and mice’ chairs, a charming and distinctly Gaudí creation. Designed with remarkable attention to ergonomics, these chairs are both comfortable and curiously whimsical. Look closely: beneath the elaborate fringe of the backrest, two carved cat heads peek out, eyes fixed in silent mischief. And under the seat? Three hidden mice, playfully tucked into the woodwork, almost daring you to find them.

Bathed in soft light from two stained glass windows crafted by Thomas William Camm (1839–1912), this room hums with a quiet theatricality. Each window pays homage to a tragic Shakespearean figure: Hamlet in one, Macbeth in the other.

The Rooftop

The final stop on the tour is up on the rooftop, a secret sculpture garden in the sky. Twenty chimneys rise like surreal totems, each one completely unique, clad in trencadís (his now-iconic mosaic of broken tiles, ceramics, glass, and marble).

Some spiral like soft-serve ice cream; others squat like pyramids or lean at odd angles, resembling fantastical helmets or molten stone creatures mid-metamorphosis.

This was Gaudí testing limits. Up here, above the ordered elegance of the main hall and the restraint of the street façade, he let his creativity off the leash. The rooftop becomes a sort of open-air sketchbook, where form, colour, and function merge into something wild and whimsical. One chimney even includes fragments of old porcelain dolls, a playful nod to found materials that prefigures his later work at Park Güell and Casa Batlló.

At the center stands a tall lantern spire, both beacon and brain, crowned by a bat-shaped weather vane. It doubles as a skylight, channeling sunlight down through the heart of the palace to the main hall below.

The rooftop of Palau Güell becomes the blueprint for everything he’d go on to do: the bone-like balconies of Casa Batlló, the twisting spires of the Sagrada Família, the kaleidoscopic wonderland of Park Güell. Here, on this terrace, you see the moment Gaudí stops playing it safe. And once he breaks free, he never looks back.

Standing here on the rooftop, with the city stretched out below and a mosaic forest blooming around you, it’s easy to feel the shift from the dark rooms inside. Palau Güell begins in shadows, in solemn stone and quiet rooms. But it climbs, room by room, detail by detail, toward this rooftop moment of release. It’s Gaudí stepping out of the constraints of convention, tilting toward the fantastical future that would define him. So take a breath up here. Let your eyes wander over the chimneys, the skyline, the gentle shimmer of ceramic under the sun, as our tour comes to a close.

I hope you enjoyed this self-guided tour, and maybe caught a glimpse of a side of Gaudí you hadn’t seen before.

Happy Travels, Adventurers!

The post The Ultimate Self-Guided Tour of Barcelona’s Palau Güell first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.

In 2025, the church is inching closer to completion! The Jesus Tower is nearly done, soon to become the tallest church tower in the world. Gaudí’s vision is entering its final act, and to see it now, while it’s still taking shape, feels like catching a story mid-sentence. La Sagrada Familia isn’t just a spot on your checklist. It’s a walk through the most unforgettable structures in the world and not to be missed! Let our guide take you through the most important sights in this enormous construction so you don’t miss out on the magic.

Table Of Contents

1. Getting There
2. Tickets (and Why You Need to Plan Ahead in 2025)
3. A Brief History
4. 1. The Nativity Façade
5. 2. The Tree of Life
6. 3. The Charity Portico
7. 4. The Towers and Spires (Now Taller Than Ever)
8. 5. The Rosary Portal
9. 6. The Forest of Columns
10. 7. The Vaults
11. 8. The Stained Glass Windows
12. 9. The High Altar’s Baldachin
13. 10. The Choir Galleries
14. 11. The Passion Façade
15. 12. The Gaudí Museum

Getting There

La Sagrada Familia is located right in the city center and is easy to reach.

• By metro: Hop on the L2 (purple) or L5 (blue) line and exit at Sagrada Família station.
• By bus: Take the H10 to València/Lepant.
• Hop-On Hop-Off? Absolutely, most routes include a stop here.
• On Foot: I love walking to the Sagrada as you get to see it slowly grow in size as you approach. Walking along Avenue de Gaudí is the most scenic approach to the great church.

Tickets (and Why You Need to Plan Ahead in 2025)

Crowds haven’t eased up; if anything, they’re getting bigger as the church nears completion.
Book your ticket online in advance to skip long lines and secure a tower visit if you’re aiming for those views. Be sure to ONLY book your tickets through the official website, as third-party sellers often charge extra fees, have confusing policies, or don’t guarantee access to the towers or your preferred time slot.

• General Admission + Audio Guide: €26
• Guided Tour: €30
• Admission + Towers : €36

Tip: Morning light is best for the Nativity side. Late afternoon (especially golden hour) transforms the Passion façade and interior into something surreal.

A Brief History

The story of La Sagrada Familia begins in 1882 with a modest plan for a simple neo-Gothic church, nothing too flashy. But then Antoni Gaudí took over, and everything changed. Gaudí was a visionary Catalan architect known for his bold, nature-inspired designs that blended structure with spirituality. Shy, deeply religious, and often seen as eccentric, he devoted the last years of his life entirely to La Sagrada Familia, living like a hermit in his workshop and treating the basilica as both a sacred offering and a personal obsession.

Gaudí tossed out the old blueprints and dreamed up something wild: a basilica that looked like a forest, reached for the heavens, and told the entire story of Christianity in stone. He poured over 40 years of his life into it. Even after his death in 1926, the work never stopped. It has taken generations of architects, artists, and stonecutters to carry his vision forward, and yet it continues to evolve.

1. The Nativity Façade

The Nativity Façade is the only part Gaudí lived to see nearly completed, and it shows. It carries most of his personal touch, his hand, his heart, his imagination. Every inch feels alive, teeming with natural forms and spiritual symbolism. Completed in 1935, this façade bursts with vitality: twisting vines, chirping birds, blooming flowers, angels in mid-song, and sacred stories carved into stone. It’s a celebration of life, birth, and divine joy, Gaudí’s answer to a world too often focused on suffering.

The façade is divided into three richly decorated porticos, each dedicated to a theological virtue: Faith, Hope, and Charity. Together, they unfold the early chapters of Jesus’s life, from the Annunciation to the flight into Egypt, like a visual gospel. The level of detail is dizzying. The longer you stand there, the more it reveals. Faces peer out from behind leaves, animals rest in unexpected corners, and halos catch the shifting light.

2. The Tree of Life

Topping the central portico of the Nativity Façade is a striking green cypress tree, bright, almost jubilant against the pale stone. It’s one of the few vibrant touches on the exterior, and Gaudí chose it with care. The cypress, evergreen and enduring, is a timeless symbol of eternal life. But here, it’s not just symbolic, it’s theatrical. The tree seems to spring from the architecture itself, bursting upward from the stone like nature reclaiming space in the sacred.

Sprinkled across its branches are twenty-one white doves, frozen in flight. Each bird is sculpted in a slightly different pose, wings at various angles, as if they’ve just taken off into the sky. They represent peace, the Holy Spirit, and perhaps even souls in motion, ascending, transforming. They give the whole composition a sense of lift.

At the very top, glowing faintly in the Catalan sun, sits a red-and-white cross marked with the Greek letters Alpha and Omega, symbols of the beginning and the end, eternity in both directions. It’s like a punctuation mark at the top of the church’s most joyous sentence.

3. The Charity Portico

Tucked beneath the vault of the Charity Portico is a delicate rendering of the Annunciation: the archangel Gabriel kneeling before Mary, who receives the divine message with calm, steady grace. The scale of it is surprisingly human. It’s not grand or imposing, it’s gentle. Quiet. You can sense the reverence Gaudí had for this moment of transformation.

Above and around the scene, carved into the stone sky, are signs of the zodiac, each one set in its constellation. These weren’t added to flirt with astrology. They reflect the alignment of the stars as they would have appeared on the night of Christ’s birth. It’s an attempt to ground the miraculous in the real, to say, this happened here, under this same sky.

Then there are the details you almost miss: a string of rosary beads curling through the architecture, surrounded by miraculous medals like the ones worn on bracelets. And everywhere, angels as musicians. But not just any musicians, some play liturgical instruments like harps and violins, yes, but others strum guitars, pump bagpipes, or shake tambourines. Gaudí was building a bridge between heaven and earth, showing that divine joy could be found in ordinary things. In music from the street. In symbols worn by everyday believers.

4. The Towers and Spires (Now Taller Than Ever)

Eventually, the basilica will rise with 18 spires, a number loaded with meaning. Twelve for the apostles, four for the evangelists, one for the Virgin Mary, and one final spire for Christ. As of 2025, that central Jesus Tower is nearly complete. Standing at 172.5 meters, it will soon be crowned with a monumental illuminated cross, making La Sagrada Familia the tallest church in the world. You can’t climb it yet, but when you stand below and look up… it already feels finished. Almost celestial.

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Surrounding it are four newly completed Evangelist Towers, each dedicated to Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. You’ll spot their sculptural symbols, angel, lion, ox, and eagle, glinting in the light, marking their place in the story. These were finalized in late 2023 and 2024, and in 2025, they became an integral part of the city skyline. Many visitors don’t even realize they’re new.

Beneath them rises the Tower of tone of the four Evangelists: he Virgin Mary, completed in 2021 but easy to overlook amid the flurry of construction. It stands slightly shorter than the Jesus Tower, topped by an elegant twelve-pointed star that lights up at night, a quiet, beautiful presence, visible from far across the city.

And while the Jesus Tower isn’t open to the public (yet), you can still climb the Nativity or Passion Towers. Each offers something different:

• Nativity Tower looks over the older parts of the city, best in the soft light of morning.
• Passion Tower faces west, dramatic at sunset, framing the mountains and sea.

5. The Rosary Portal

This is the door you’ll likely walk through as you enter the church, but don’t rush through it. Pause for a second before stepping inside. Formally known as the Door of Our Lady of the Rosary, this portal is both an architectural threshold and a spiritual one. It sets the tone for everything that follows. Carved into the tympanum above the doorway, you’ll see Mary crowned, gently holding the infant Jesus. Their expressions are serene, almost tender. Mary wears her crown not just as Queen of Heaven, but as a quiet protector, welcoming, not distant.

But what really elevates the moment is the lantern cupola perched above. At just the right angle and time of day, light filters down through the opening and lands squarely on Mary’s face. Not dramatically. Not theatrically. Just… perfectly. The effect is subtle but powerful. It feels like a benediction. Like she’s been there all along, waiting for you to notice her.

Framing the scene are carved roses, symbolizing purity and devotion. They arc above her head like a floral halo. These small details, the curve of a petal, the tilt of her crown, pull you in closer. And just like that, before you’ve even crossed the threshold, you’re inside something sacred.

6. The Forest of Columns

Stepping inside the basilica feels like walking into a forest, one not made of wood or leaves, but of soaring stone and dappled light. The towering columns, Gaudí called them arborescent, meaning tree-like, don’t rise straight and stiff like classical pillars. They branch out, tilt slightly, and split near the top, mimicking the way real trees grow to support their canopy. The base of each column is made from a different material, chosen for its strength depending on how much weight it must bear. And the colors shift subtly as they rise, darker and stronger near the floor, lighter and more delicate as they reach toward the ceiling.

Above you, the vaults bloom out like a leafy crown. You can almost forget you’re in a building. There’s no central focal point, no straight path leading to an altar. Instead, everything flows outward and upward. Like a grove. Like being deep in nature, where light filters through branches and every step opens into something new. This wasn’t just an aesthetic choice. Gaudí believed nature was the truest expression of the divine, and he designed the space to reflect that belief. He wanted visitors to feel held, but also free. Surrounded by structure, but never confined.

The effect is almost disorienting at first. Your eyes wander, drawn in every direction. There’s a hush that falls over people the moment they walk in, like the stillness of a forest. And even when the space is full of people, it somehow feels personal. You’re inside, yes, but also uplifted. It feels alive. And maybe, in some way, it actually is.

7. The Vaults

Above the forest of stone columns, the ceiling opens into a canopy of light and geometry. Here, the vaults bloom in delicate, star-shaped patterns, unlike anything you’ll see in traditional Gothic churches. Their form is based on hyperboloid geometry, a complex mathematical concept Gaudí studied and modelled obsessively. (Don’t worry, you don’t need to understand the equations to appreciate the beauty.)

What you’ll notice instead is how they seem to float. These vaults aren’t just decorative, they’re highly functional. Their curving, interwoven shapes distribute the massive weight of the roof and redirect it down through the branching columns, allowing the walls to be almost entirely made of stained glass. The space feels impossibly open for a structure this size.

The shapes themselves resemble palm leaves, spreading outward with an organic grace. In Christian tradition, palms symbolize peace, martyrdom, and the promise of resurrection, echoing the same themes that run through the rest of the church, from the façades to the altar.

Every detail is deliberate. Even the small circular medallions at the center of each vault serve a purpose: they act as light diffusers, catching natural sunlight and scattering it gently throughout the nave. The vaults shift with the time of day, glowing warmer in the afternoon and cooler in the morning.

8. The Stained Glass Windows

The stained glass inside La Sagrada Familia doesn’t just decorate the walls; it transforms the space. Designed by Catalan artist Joan Vila-Grau, the windows are a masterclass in colour, light, and movement. They don’t depict saints or biblical scenes, as you’d find in older cathedrals. Instead, they’re abstract, flowing compositions of colour that feel more like music than narrative. Their purpose isn’t to instruct, but to immerse.

Gaudí wanted the interior to feel like a living lightscape, and Vila-Grau delivered. The windows are arranged by colour and orientation: the east-facing panes are filled with cool hues, blues, teals, greens, meant to capture the soft, calm light of the morning. As the day progresses, sunlight begins to pour through the west-facing windows, which glow with fiery reds, oranges, and golds. It’s like watching a slow-motion sunrise and sunset unfold inside the building itself.

And when the light hits just right? The entire nave becomes a prism. Colour spills across the columns and the floor, dances on the ceiling, and glows in the folds of visitors’ clothes. It’s breathtaking. But not in a dramatic, fireworks kind of way. More like a quiet hush. A “wow” that catches in your throat.

9. The High Altar’s Baldachin

Suspended above the high altar like a celestial crown is the baldachin, a sculpted canopy unlike anything you’d expect to find in a Catholic church. It doesn’t dominate the space with grandeur; instead, it floats. Delicate, intentional, symbolic. The canopy takes the form of a heptagon, its seven sides representing the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit: wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord. It’s an unusual choice; most baldachins are square or circular, but Gaudí rarely followed convention, and this seven-sided structure feels more like something grown than built.

Twisting around its edges are grapevines and wheat stalks, carved in subtle, flowing lines. These aren’t just decorative. They’re symbols of the Eucharist (bread and wine) woven into the very bones of the architecture. The message is clear: this is sacred ground, a place where the earthly and divine meet through ritual and remembrance.

Dangling from the rim are 50 small lanterns, each one glowing softly like a star. At night or in shadow, they bring a warm, golden radiance to the altar space, as if the Spirit itself had descended and decided to stay awhile. And beneath it all, suspended in a way that feels almost gravity-defying, hangs Christ on the cross. He’s angled ever so slightly downward, not looming, but reaching, as if in motion. As if leaning toward the people gathered below.

10. The Choir Galleries

Look up and around, above the main nave, almost hidden in plain sight, are the choir galleries. They stretch along the sides like wide, curved balconies and can hold over 1,000 singers. That’s not a typo. Gaudí didn’t just want choral music to accompany worship; he wanted it to fill the basilica, to rise and fall like breath within the stone.

Music meant a great deal to Gaudí. It was one of the few things that calmed his mind and offered him peace. He once said that music, like nature, was a direct route to the divine. And so he designed these galleries not only with function in mind but with acoustics woven right into the architecture. The curves of the vaults, the height of the columns, even the spacing between stone surfaces, were all calculated to let sound travel, expand, and reverberate gently without distortion.

11. The Passion Façade

Where the Nativity Façade bursts with life, abundance, and organic warmth, the Passion Façade offers the opposite: silence, suffering, and sacrifice. Located on the western side of the basilica, the side of sunset and endings, it’s intentionally stark, angular, and stripped down, reflecting the final days of Christ’s life with an almost brutal honesty.

The sculptures here were created by Josep Maria Subirachs in the late 20th century, decades after Gaudí’s death. At first, the contrast in style shocked many visitors. Subirachs chose a harsh, modernist aesthetic: the figures are blocky, skeletal, and raw, carved with sharp planes and deep shadows. They feel fragile and exposed, almost like the bones of a structure laid bare. But look closer, and the emotion is unmistakable. These aren’t decorative statues, they’re cries in stone.

More than 100 characters populate the façade, arranged in an upward S-shaped path that unfolds like a dramatic timeline. It begins with the Last Supper, winds through Peter’s denial, Christ’s flagellation, the Via Dolorosa, and culminates in the Crucifixion at the top. Each scene is carved with symbolic weight: soldiers wear expressionless helmets, Jesus appears blindfolded and bound, and grief is frozen in anguished, angular faces.

Gaudí designed the concept for this façade during a period of deep illness and fear, and it shows. His original sketches outlined a façade that would capture the weight of suffering, the shadow of death, and the difficulty of faith. It wasn’t meant to be comfortable. And it still isn’t. Standing in front of it, you feel the tension. The sharpness. The ache.

12. The Gaudí Museum

Tucked beneath the basilica, just steps away from the main entrance, is the Antoni Gaudí Workshop and Museum, a quiet, dimly lit space that most visitors almost miss. But if you take the time to explore it, it feels like stepping directly into Gaudí’s mind.

This was once his actual workspace, where he drew, built models, tested materials, and experimented with ideas that would eventually shape one of the most ambitious churches in the world. Today, it’s part museum, part time capsule. The walls are lined with early sketches, scale models, handwritten notes, and photographs that offer a glimpse into how the basilica has evolved across the decades. You’ll see everything from delicate sculpting tools to rough tiles and plaster casts, each one stained with the fingerprints of history.

Not everything survived. During the Spanish Civil War, much of Gaudí’s original material was tragically destroyed in a fire. But through painstaking restoration efforts, fragments were saved, scanned, rebuilt, and replicated. The museum doesn’t hide this loss, in fact, it embraces it. You see broken edges and missing pieces alongside modern reconstructions, which only makes the story more powerful. You begin to understand how fragile this vision was, and how much love and effort has gone into keeping it alive.

There’s even a recreation of Gaudí’s studio, complete with a model of his drafting table and the kinds of tools he would have used daily. It’s strangely moving. You can almost imagine him sitting there in silence, carving a new idea from memory, his whole life reduced to light, line, and form.

La Sagrada Familia isn’t just a monument to God or to Gaudí. It’s a monument to vision. To stubborn beauty. To the idea that something doesn’t need to be finished to be worth experiencing. And honestly, it’s more moving because it’s not done. You step into something in progress. Just like us.

Have you been before? Planning to go this year? I’d love to know what you thought, or what you’re hoping to see.

Happy Travels, Adventurers.

The post Ultimate Guide to Exploring Barcelona’s La Sagrada Familia in 2025 first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.

Table Of Contents

1. Map of 2-Days in Bruges Itinerary
2. Where to Stay?
3. History of Bruges
4. Day One in Bruges
5. Day Two in Bruges

Map of 2-Days in Bruges Itinerary

Why Spend at Least 48 Hours in Bruges?

Many people visiting Bruges skip staying the night and instead choose to visit either on a day-trip bus tour or a quick stopover on their way through Belgium. But I strongly encourage you to stay at least one night in the city. This way, you can properly experience the atmosphere of this ancient city, both during the day and at night. The town’s true nature comes alive once the heavy loads of day-tripping tourists disappear in the later afternoon. Locals open their doors, and the city feels more than just a postcard but a living piece of history.

Where to Stay?

Budget Option: Hotel Fevery

Hotel Fevery in Bruges is a cozy, family-run retreat just a short walk from the city center. Known for its warm and homely atmosphere, this charming hotel offers comfortable, spotless rooms and a delicious breakfast. Guests appreciate the friendly, attentive staff who go above and beyond to ensure a pleasant stay, making Hotel Fevery a perfect blend of comfort and convenience for a memorable visit to Bruges.

Mid-Range Option: Boutique Hotel Sablon

Boutique Hotel Sablon is a stylish four-star hotel located just five minutes from Grote Markt square. The hotel offers plush suites with freestanding bathtubs and lounge areas. The decor combines modern style with historic elements, featuring contemporary art and a luxurious Living Room bar. It’s a perfect choice for travelers seeking a balance of comfort and elegance without breaking the bank​.

Luxury Option: Hotel De Orangerie

For a more luxurious stay, consider Hotel De Orangerie. This boutique hotel is set in a beautifully restored 15th-century building along the Den Dijver canal. The hotel offers elegant rooms with antique furnishings and modern amenities. Guests can enjoy high tea in the plush dining room or on the terrace by the canal. The hotel’s central location makes it easy to explore Bruges’ top attractions​.

History of Bruges

Bruges is not just a gothic-looking town; it is a gothic town. The streets are still lined with stones older than perhaps even my home country, and even the most ubiquitous family home looks like a gothic paradise. Bruges is a UNESCO-protected city, and as such, historians ensure that everything remains unchanged from its perpetual state of gothic opulence. Any renovations undertaken to protect buildings from the perils of old age are done with lots of research and employ only old materials to fix or repair any damage.

Bruges first established itself as a settlement in the 9th century. Since Bruges was a city settled on the river, connected to the North Sea, it immediately became a hub for international trade. The name Bruges is derived from the word Bryggia, an old Scandinavian word meaning harbour.  Bruges was northwest Europe’s most important trade centre in the Middle Ages. It specialized in Flemish cloth, one of the most essential products in medieval times, as it was used to sew clothing for everyone from villagers to the royal family. Because the cloth market was exploding nationwide, more and more money poured into the city. The overwhelming wealth meant Bruges could build some of Europe’s most impressive pieces of medieval architecture.

The Growth of the City of Bruges

Throughout the 15th and 16th centuries, Bruges fluctuated under an ever-changing economy. While other European cities were able to expand, Bruges remained a small town. It couldn’t keep up with the worldwide growth and eventually lost its position as the leading trade city to Antwerp, with a population that doubled its own. Bruges slowly fell out of the limelight and disappeared from European high society.

In the 1800s, Bruges became the most impoverished city in Belgium as all trade routes into the city had shut. It is perhaps this period of poverty that we have to thank for the preservation of the city’s historic architecture. There was no money for renovations, expansion or modernization. In the mid-19th century, when the tourism industry started to creep outside the major cities into the countryside, people began discovering this untouched town gem. People from all over fell in love with the historic-artistic culture they found here, left untouched by urbanization.

Day One in Bruges

The Grote Markt

The best place to start your tour is in the Grote Markt, which serves as the centre of Bruges. It seems fitting to begin your journey in the area that brought Bruges all its wealth. The first known marketplace was built here in the 10th century. Later, in the 12th century, a wooden market hall was developed to help house fish, cloth imports, and exports. The square turned from a simple shopping area into a meeting place for jousting tournaments, weddings, royal parades and even executions. The square is still used today as a marketplace despite the passage of time.

In 1996, the square was converted into a pedestrian zone where horse-drawn carriages and bicycles were the only modes of transportation allowed. Tourists can wander and gaze up at the buildings around them without fear of being hit by a car. And gaze up, you will!

Bruges Belfy

Looming over Markt Square stands the Belfry Tower atop the infamous Cloth Hall. The Belfry was built in 1240 but needed to be rebuilt in 1280 after a fire ravaged the first building. If the octagonal-shaped top looks slightly unfinished, you’d be correct in thinking so. The tower was once topped with a great spire. There were various spires, but each was the victim of lightning strikes, reducing them all to ash. There is a famous poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow which goes, “In the marketplace of Bruges stands the Belfry old and brown; Thrice consumed and thrice rebuilt. Still, it watches o’er the town.”

Bell in the Belfry

In the medieval ages, the Belfry’s bells were the only indicator citizens had to tell the start of the workday, signal for fire, or even begin a festival or event. In the 16th century, a 35-set carillon was installed in the tower. A carillon is a set of bells that could be played using a keyboard below the tower, creating a more musical sound than a few single bells rung from ropes ever could.

You can still climb the 366 steps to the top of the tower, as patrolmen once did, to look out for fires that could have destroyed this incredible city. The view from the top is unequalled and worth the time and effort.

“French” Fries in Bruges

At the bottom of the Belfry Tower is a local French Fry vendor who serves some of the most delicious Belgian fries. There are ongoing disputes over the term “french fries” and its origin. The Belgians insist it was them. The story goes that when American armies were stationed in Belgium, the Flemish military served them one of their favourite (and inexpensive) meals—fried potato strips.

The American army LOVED them and took the recipe back home. They called them french fries since French was the local language in Belgium then, and the Americans assumed they were in France. While the French aren’t known for selling fries on the street, the Belgians have perfected the snack on the go. They serve them alongside mustard and mayonnaise dipping sauce, an oddly delicious side dish that is the perfect thing to eat to keep you going throughout your tour.

While chowing down on your snack, take a moment to study the brightly coloured buildings surrounding that square. Each one is topped with iconic crow-stepped gables, which have become the quintessential characteristic of Bruges. 

Statue of Jan Breydel and Pierter de Conick

Take a seat in the centre of the square, beneath the grand statue of Jan Breydel and Pieter de Coninck. These two men are local heroes known for leading the uprising against the invading French in 1302 and keeping Bruges a part of Belgium.

Provincial Hof

Across from the statue is the Provincial Hof or Provincial Court. The building now houses the government of West Flander and a local post office, but hundreds of years ago, it was home to the largest port in Bruges. Initially built in 1294, it was demolished in 1787 and rebuilt in a neogothic style reminiscent of its original Gothic architecture. One of the most iconic parts of its design is the bright red dormer windows, which pop out of the stone grey roof.

Hendrik and Gustaaf Pickery designed all the interior decorations; intricate stained glass windows and exquisite ironwork cover the rooms like wild vines. The statues and murals within depict scenes of famous personalities from West Flanders and provide a visual history of the building of their great city.

Chocolatier Dumon

Dumon Chocolates are among the most popular souvenirs people bring home from Bruges. Belgium is known worldwide for its chocolate creations, and Dumon has found a way to perfect the art. Established in 1992, this family-run business expanded around Belgium, but their first family-run shop was in Bruges.

As you open the door, you are overwhelmed with melting chocolate’s sweet and slightly bitter scent. The tiny shop is almost no wider than arm’s length but is charmingly cluttered. Chocolates glisten behind glass cabinets, and you can’t help but start to drool. While there are no labels, the kind employees (all family members) will lovingly tell you about all the different kinds of chocolate and prepare a customized box with all your favourites. They speak English in addition to French and Belgian, but if you can’t communicate, you can’t go wrong with anything inside.

Hof Bladelin

Walking past Dumon, along the narrow streets and alleyways, you come upon Hof Bladelin. Hof Bladelin was once an aristocratic mansion, which has now been converted into a home for the elderly and a small museum. The Hof Bladelin was initially built in 1451 as the house of Pieter Bladelin and his wife, Margaret of Vagewierre. Pieter was the counsellor and treasurer for Philip the Good, the Duke of Burgundy.

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At the time, he was one of the wealthiest men in Bruges and wanted to build a house, which reflected his enormous wealth. The Bladelins had no children, and after their death, the house came up for auction in 1472. It was purchased by the Medicis, a powerful Florentine banking family known for coveting the most beautiful pieces of art and architecture from the world’s greatest artists.

The Hof Bladelin has the architectural design of a Gothic castle. The Renaissance courtyard was designed in Italian and added to the building by the Medici family. There are still stone medallion portraits of Lorenzo de Medici and his wife in the courtyard. The ribbed vaulted ceiling in the interiors has some unique corbels adorned with scenes depicting Bladelin’s duties and the life of St. Alphege of Canterbury.

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The Poortersloge

The Poortersloge, or Burgher’s Lodge, is an exemplary model of Gothic architecture in Bruges. It was built at the end of the 14th century and served as a meeting place for the burghers (town or city’s citizens). One can admire its magnificent façade, decorated with stone figures; one is of the legendary bear, Beertje van de Logie, dated 1417. In the past, banquets and festivities were held here; nowadays, the building contains historical documents.

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Cambrius

If you’re feeling peckish, stop off at the Cambrinus pub. The building oozes history. The original pub was built here in 1699, and despite a few updates, much of the place remains the same. When you arrive, the waiter will bring you a book the size of a dictionary with over 400 varieties of beer listed and vivid descriptions in various languages.

There truly is something for everyone. In addition to the best beer list in the country, their traditional Brugian food is also to die for. The rabbit stew is my favourite and will warm you up from the inside out if you are travelling in any of the colder months.

Burg Square

After lunch, make your way over to Burg Square. This square is one of the city’s most stunningly medieval parts. Architectural gems from the Gothic era to the Renaissance and the Neo-Classical Revival surround it from all sides.

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Burg Town Hall

Burg Town Hall, or “Stadhuis,” is the oldest building in the square. It was built in 1376 in a truly Gothic fashion. Standing between the bright red-painted windowsills are statues of men from the Court of Flanders intermingled with biblical figures. Each one looked down at the townspeople below, guiding them in their daily lives.

Sandwiched between the Town Hall is the Palace of the Liberty, which once served as the Old Court House for over 200 years. Its brilliant white painted facade with gold trim is decorated like a cake, with the golden Lady of Justice statue as the cherry on top. 

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Basilica of the Holy Blood

The Basilica of the Holy Blood stands in the corner of the square, tucked away so tightly it almost seems to disappear. This 14th-century church holds one essential item, a vial of “Holy Blood,” believed to be drops of blood and water washed from the body of Christ. 

Behind its dark, richly decorated facade hides an even more ornamental interior. The interior houses two chapels, each opposite the other. The upper chapel is the crown jewel of West Flanders in high Gothic style. From floor to ceiling, there are darkly painted murals depicting the Holy Trinity and various scenes of the journey of the Holy Blood Relic to Bruges. Vividly painted stained glass windows provide the only natural light inside the chapel. Little modern lighting has been installed inside to ensure the murals don’t fade with time.

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Heilig-Bloedbasiliek

The Holy Blood relic is embedded in a rock-crystal vial and placed inside a glass cylinder framed with two golden crowns. It is only shown to the public on certain days of the week, so check the schedule if you’re making a pilgrimage just to see it. It is housed inside a silver tabernacle with a picture of the Lamb of God on the front when it is not displayed. In recent years, the validity of the vial has come under question, and investigations have shown that it was nothing more than a Byzantine perfume bottle from Constantinople. But to those who believe, no amount of science can deter them.

The lower chapel is a simple Romanesque church from the 12th century, the last Romanesque church in all of West Flanders. This chapel has been virtually unchanged since it was first built. The two chapels are connected, but a large brick staircase was built in 1533 in the Renaissance style, which was subsequently destroyed during the French WWII occupation but rebuilt in the 19th century.

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Vismarkt

Across the bridge from Burg Square is the Vismarkt, or old Fish Market. The fish market was once located in Markt Square, but the smell of the fish was so intense that people around the square complained, so it was moved further east. The covered stone arcade was built in 1821. The market is only open from Wednesday to Saturday in the early morning, but you can visit the iconic stone structure any time of the day.

Dijver Canal

From the Fish Market, walk west along the Dijver Canal. The canal’s passageway from the fish market to Nieuwstraat is a classical view of Bruges you must see for yourself. Various restaurants along the canal are reasonably touristy but provide one of Bruges’s most beautiful scenes. If you just want to hop into one of their patios for a drink, I think the overpriced beer is well worth the view.

De Garre

To end your first day in Bruges, head to De Garre bar, nestled in a tiny alleyway. De Garre is a hidden gem in Bruges renowned for its exceptional house beer, the Tripel van De Garre. This robust and flavorful tripel, brewed exclusively for the pub, is a must-try for any beer enthusiast. The cozy and intimate atmosphere of De Garre, combined with its rich wooden decor, offers a perfect setting to enjoy this unique brew. The pub also serves a variety of other Belgian beers, making it an ideal spot to unwind and savour the local beer culture after a day of exploring the city​.

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Day Two in Bruges

Groeninge Museum

To start our second day in Bruges, we will head to the famous Groeninge Museum. The Groeninge Museum is an essential stop on your tour of Bruges as it gives you an introduction to Brugian art across six centuries. 

The Primitive Flemish style of painting is featured throughout the walls of museums. Flemish art isn’t classically considered exceedingly masterful since it sometimes seems slightly grotesque, raw, and explicit. Flemish painters always tried to emulate their Italian counterparts to achieve a dynamic perspective, but they didn’t have the technical skills to realize these effects. The result is images that appear almost warped but whose expressions are so genuine they leave a lasting impression on the people who view them. 

Arents House Courtyard

Across from the Groeninge Museum, you’ll find the Arents House. Arents House was once an ancient manor belonging to the noble Arents family. It now hosts an extensive collection of paintings by the British artist Frank Brangwyn. While it might be worth a visit on a more extended tour to Bruges, today, we are merely exploring its courtyard. The small yard between the two medieval houses is the perfect place to stop and pause. Listen to the sounds of cobblestones underfoot.

The trickle of water flows down the canal. From Arents Court, you have one of the most splendid views of the Church of Our Lady’s tower. If you’re lucky, you’ll hear the church bell rings across the street and the soft crowing of birds perched above. Four exciting sculptures by artist Rik Poot surround the courtyard, representing the “Four Apocalyptic Knights,” which are a great compliment to the artistic surroundings.

Bonifacius Bridge

Before heading to the Church of Our Lady, you’ll pass across the Bonifacius Bridge. Despite only dating from 1910, it is one of the most beautiful bridges in Bruges. The tightly interlaced cobblestones are red brick archways that provide the perfect frame for the church towers behind them. Standing on the bridge, you can watch tourists paddle up and down the canal.

The Church of Our Lady of Bruges

All of the churches in Bruges are enormous. They seem to tower over the tiny houses below. The Church of Our Lady’s tower is over 122 meters high, the highest point in Bruges and the world’s second tallest brickwork tower. Because the church took over two centuries to build, it combines various evolutions of Gothic architecture with a Baroque interior.

While the interior might not be as grand as its exterior, it is still worth poking your head inside. The central organ is small but opulent, hiding behind the high altar screen. A few dozen simple chairs provide seating for the small but dedicated congregation. The altar screen is unique both in colouring and design. Its white and green coloured marble are highlighted with splashes of gold leafing. Along the nave are columns dotted with reliefs of various influential saints. A sizeable wooden pulpit stands at attention on the right side of the nave; dozens of beautifully carved cherubs hang off the sides, clinging to books with golden scriptures written for the people below to read.

Tombs of Bruges Royalty

Behind the high altar is the resting place of two of Bruges’ most famous residents. The golden tombs of Charles the Bold and the Duchess Mary of Burgundy lie in quiet repose beneath a beautiful tryptic. The elaborately designed tombs are worth looking at, so don’t miss touring the back half of the church.

The crown jewel of this church is the white marble sculpture of the Madonna and Child, created by Michelangelo in 1504. Over the years, the statue has been stolen by foreign invaders, but those dedicated to preserving its place in Bruges have always managed to bring it back home. Although this sculpture doesn’t have the same impact as his Pieta in Rome, the sadness on Madonna’s face reflects her knowledge that this little boy will grow up only to die for the sins of his people.

Gruuthuse Hof

Away from the Church of Our Lady is the Gruuthuse Hof, a small but historic house adorably sandwiched between two major streets. Now a restaurant, the Gruuthuse Hof is one of the oldest residences in Bruges. While in one of the prime locations for tourists, the restaurant keeps a simple, traditional menu catering to locals and tourists alike. With only 28 seats inside and 12 on the patio, the place remains intimate despite its popularity over the eras. If you can find a table, it’s worth stopping in for the featured meal of the day.

St. Salvator’s Cathedral

Up from the Gruuthuse Hof is St. Salvator’s Cathedral. It is the oldest parish church in Bruges, with parts dating back to the 10th century. But the original design was much less grandiose than the current incarnation. In 1834, after Belgium’s independence, St. Salvator’s was given the status of a cathedral, and the meagre church had to be extensively renovated to match its new high status as a cathedral. 

The architect of the new cathedral was William Chantrell, an English architect greatly influenced by the resurgence of Neo-Romanesque architecture. Neo-Romanesque buildings feature thick walls, round arches, sturdy pillars, barrel vaults, large towers, and decorative arcades. This church stands out because most of Bruges is so powerfully Gothic.

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St. Salvator’s Cathedral Interior

The neo-Gothic interior of the church is relatively plain but is accented with stunning embroidered tapestries from the 18th century. These antiquated works of art were made in Brussels by Jasper van der Borcht and feature astounding scenes from the Bible, all created with needles and thread.

To the left of the nave, the pulpit is a stunning example of Louis XVI’s designs. Louis XVI’s design was predominantly produced in France and exemplified the last phase of Rococo design. The style focused on natural forms and dramatic embellishments.

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Old St. John’s Hospital

Walking back down Mariastraat, we come upon Old St. John’s Hospital, now the Memling Museum. Before becoming a museum, it was used as a hospital for the sick and dying, administered by nuns and priests. Inside are many relics and six paintings by a 15th-century painter and Bruges resident, Hans Memling. One of the highlights inside is the Shrine to St. Ursula. Carved into a gilded wooden reliquary in the shape of the church are six panels which tell the story of St. Ursula’s sainthood, painted by Memling himself. The work was commissioned by the Hospital of St. John and is one of the most exquisite pieces of religious art I’ve seen close up. The three-dimensional details and rich colours are remarkable. 

De Vos Almshouse

Further south, away from the central part of the city, we will come across the “De Vos Almshouse.” This small grouping of little white houses, facing a lush green herb and flower garden, once housed the poor, widows and the elderly. The houses were purchased by a wealthy Brugian merchant who loved his city and wanted to give back to the less fortunate.

Each home was donated to a specific guild (mason’s guild, blacksmith, coopers, etc.) and would provide housing for members of that guild when they became too old to work, fell ill or lost their jobs. You might notice how none of the houses have windows facing the street – this was because, at the time of their construction, a tax was improvised for any street-facing window.

Beguinage

Before our final destination, stop into the Beguinage’ De Wijngaard’ or Vineyard. This grouping of white houses with terracotta roofs is one of Bruges’s most peaceful places to rest your weary feet. So far from the town centre, this site is little toured by day-tripping tourists.

Since 1245, the Bruges beguine sisterhood has lived here, and in 1937, it became a monastery for the Benedictine sisters. To enter the Beguinage, you first pass through a large arched entrance gate built in 1776. Inside, you find houses dating from the 15th to 19th centuries.

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The Minnewater

The Minnewater, or Lake of Love, is one of the most beloved retreats for the remaining residents of Bruges. Swans float up and down the picturesque canals, and lovers roam under the densely forested pathways, arm in arm.

Poertorenpark

Poertorenpark, or Gunpowder Tower Park, is a serene spot near the picturesque Lake of Love in Bruges. The park features a striking round tower, historically used to store gunpowder, which reminds of the city’s medieval past. Surrounded by lush greenery and peaceful walking paths, Poertorenpark offers a tranquil escape from the bustling city center. Visitors can enjoy a leisurely stroll, relax on the benches, and take in the scenic views of the tower and the surrounding landscape, making it an ideal location for a quiet afternoon​.

Huisbrouwerij De Halve Maan

To end your last day in Bruges, head to Huisbrouwerij De Halve Maan. This historic brewery is known for its rich brewing tradition, which dates back to 1856. This family-run brewery has produced some of Belgium’s most beloved beers for generations, including the renowned Brugse Zot and Straffe Hendrik. Visitors to De Halve Maan can enjoy guided tours that offer insights into the brewing process, the brewery’s history, and the unique beer pipeline that runs under the streets of Bruges, transporting beer from the brewery to the bottling plant outside the city.

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The tour concludes with a tasting session, allowing guests to savour the distinct flavours of De Halve Maan’s craft beers while enjoying panoramic views of Bruges from the brewery’s terrace. The best way to soak in the last scenic views of the city.

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Bruges is a stunning city with a unique history, culture, and beauty blend. With the help of this 2-day itinerary, you can make the most of your time in Bruges and experience all this charming city has to offer. From exploring the stunning architecture and picturesque canals to sampling delicious Belgian chocolates and local beers, there’s something for everyone in Bruges.

Happy Travels, Adventurers!

The post How to Spend the Perfect 48 Hours in Bruges, Best 2-Day Itinerary [UPDATED 2024] first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.

I first discovered these gable stones while walking along the Bloemgracht in the Jordaan Neighbourhood. When I saw the first one, it piqued my interest to look for more, and soon I started to see that almost every other house I passed had these beautiful stone plaques above their doors. Each gable stone portrays a different character, symbol or scene. Delving into the histories and meanings behind the buildings they are housed within. I immediately wanted to know the importance of each one, seeing them as a clue into the family that once lived here. 

About the Tour

After my research, I wanted to create this in-depth post to give you some insight into these incredible treasures of Amsterdam’s architectural past. You can find these gable stones all over the city. And spotting them can be somewhat of an eye-spy adventure. I have marked some of my favourite spots and streets where you can discover the best collection of Amsterdam’s historical gable stones. Some come with me now on our Alternative Amsterdam Walking Tour, the Hidden Secret of Amsterdam’s Gable Stones.

Exploring the Gables Stones of Jordaan Neighbourhood

1. History of Gable Stones
2. Haarlemmerplein & Haarlemmerdijk
3. Binnen Vissersstraat & Brouwersgracht
4. Brouwersgracht
5. Palmgracht
6. Lindengracht
7. Prinsengracht
8. Egelantiersstraat 
9. Bloemgracht

History of Gable Stones

Long before house numbers were the primary method of finding your way around the city, gable stones (or gevelstenen in Dutch) denoted a homeowner’s name or business’s purpose. Many people were illiterate then, so these illustrative signs also served a very functional purpose. In the 16th century, if you were looking for a cobbler, you’d look for the gable stone with a shoe. If you were looking for a tavern, you’d search for a barrel. But there are also much more profound, symbolic meanings to these gable stones. Some contain metaphors, puns and, of course, religious imagery. Each one relates in some way to the history of the homeowners. It’s a fascinating way of getting to know more about the city’s history. 

Amsterdam’s Gable Stones

2,500 of these stones can still be found in the Netherlands. And 850 of these stones can be found in Amsterdam alone. In the 19th century, Amsterdam officially employed a numbering system for their streets and houses, and the gable stone fell out of fashion. But in recent years, they have come back into fashion, and new gable stones have been created to bring back modern-day heraldry.

Haarlemmerplein & Haarlemmerdijk

This tour will be primarily located in the Haarlemmerstraat and Jordaan neighbourhoods. We start our tour along Haarlemmerplein and Haarlemmerdijk. The Haarlemmerplein was originally where the city’s horses and wagons would be parked at the city gates. Today, Haarlemmerdijk is one of the most charming streets in the city. Blending modern shops and historic homes together in one trendy area.

#4 Haarlemmerplein

The gable stone found at #4 Haarlemmerplein is located high above the third-floor windows. But even from afar, the golden gilding glints in the sunlight. This stone features a great tortoise and is one of the more modern plaques. The owner, Betty Ramaekers and Klaas Helder had this gevelstenen designed especially for them. Since tortoises always carry their house with them, they are symbolic of the importance of the home. The owners bought the property in 1985, and the date of the purchase is etched onto the stone.

#109 Haarlemmerdijk

The stone tablet at #109 Haarlemmerdijk is an excellent example of a gable stone’s relation to the resident’s heritage. The house was built for Lady Sluis in 1730. Lady Sluis was originally from Zwartsluis (a Dutch province of Overijssel), and although she had been married off and moved to Amsterdam, she still had a great love for her hometown. So she had the cityscape of Zwartsluis etched onto her gable stone. The 17th-century Reformed Church of Zwartsluis is the central feature of the landscape. But other memorable images of her home are also presented to the public. Like boats coming to shore or birds flying over the horizon. Every time she would return home, she would be met with this image, a beautiful memory of her beloved town.

#13 Binnen Dommersstraat

From here, let’s head down Binnen Dommersstraat towards the house at #13. The shop on the corner is home to one of the most incredibly detailed stone gables in the city. But it is also a delightful bakery that has served this community for over 300 years! As such, it seems appropriate that the image they chose for their relief was from the Gospel of John, when Jesus produced the miracle of multiplying loaves for the hungry masses.

The bakery is now a trendy coffee shop called Toki, which still serves up tasty baked goods. The perfect place to take a break with a warm cup of coffee and a sweet treat.

#119 Vinkenstraat

Right across the street from Toki, at #116 Vinkenstraat, is a stone gable that dates back to 1768. A large white pelican spreads its wings against a pale blue background, looking down at its young babies sitting in a nest below. At first glance, the babies appear to be drinking drops of blood dripping down from the breast of their mother. And in 1768, that is exactly what people thought baby pelicans did eat. Many thought a mother would pierce her own breast to feed her young because that’s what it looked like to the naked eye. But in reality, the pelican is actually reaching into their bill, where they keep fresh fish, and this is actually what the babies eat. 

Myth of the Pelican

But ancient Europeans didn’t take biology in school. So they could only make assumptions from what they saw. From this legend, the pelican because a symbol of self-sacrifice and charity. Some apparently even believed that the pelican could bring its deceased young back to life by giving them its blood leading many to draw a comparison between the pelican and Jesus, who gave his blood to his followers. So anytime you see a pelican, this often will be associated with a religious place or someone who was devoted to god.

#98 Haarlemmerdijk

Continue east along Vinkenstraat and back to Haarlemmerdijk until you reach #98. I adore this little scene above the doorway to #98 Haarlemmerdijk. This tablet shows a shepherd casually lounging on the hillside, looking after his flock of sheep. His trustee dog, with his back, turned to the viewer, is intently watching the sheep. The etching was carved by famed Dutch painter Nicolaas Berchem. Berchem was a popular painter during the Dutch Golden era and was best known for these types of pastoral landscapes.

Originally the house marked the entrance to #101, but when that house was set to be demolished and turned into a post office, the tablet was removed. It was kept safe, and when the time came to reinstall, it was moved to #98.

#47 Haarlemmerdijk

Above the most darling Fleurmonde flower shop is a beautifully painted nautical frieze. It features what looks like a big blue fish. But upon closer inspection, it is actually a large porpoise. The porpoise is diving down into choppy waters. Perhaps swimming during a great storm. During the middle ages, porpoises were known to be spotted swimming in the canals in Amsterdam. And while they are rarely seen today, there have been a few spottings as recent as 2020, when the boat traffic in the canals died down due to Covid-19. Two dolphins are seen carved on either end, framing the entire scene. Another nod to the nautical nature of the city.

#33 Haarlemmerdijk

At #33, you can see an old stone relief dating back to 1740! It depicts Jupiter, also known as the Greek God Zeus. You know it’s him not only by the icons in the scene but also by the huge “Jupiter” lettering on the bottom of the carving. Jupiter is nude but wrapped in a large swathe of fabric. He holds a bundle of lightning bolts in his hand, a stern look on his face. The position of his arm makes it look like he is ready for battle. Jupiter’s trustee eagle sits peacefully at his feet. Jupiter is associated with healing, good fortune, and miracles, so we might imagine that perhaps a healer or apothecary once stood here.

#107 Haarlemmerstraat

Crossing over the large bridge, we head into the eastern part Haarlemmerstraat. As someone who loves astrology, the house at #107 really spoke to me. You’ll see cheerful dancing figures in the upper right corner above the doorway. These little cherubs are holding two black-painted symbols in their hands. These represent the zodiac signs for Cancer and Taurus. But the two children, with identical faces, also represent the zodiac sign of Gemini. It’s safe to assume that these symbols relate to the birthdates of the children or the couple who lived in this house.

#20 Buiten Brouwersstraat

Let’s take a quick detour north along Buiten Brouwersstraat to #20. The incredibly detailed stone relief depicted here features a huge, three-mast ship. The name “TS Chip China” is emblazoned on the bottom of the tablet. Since we know the entire name of the ship, we know a fair bit about it. It was built in 1676 for the Dutch East India Company. Despite the name, the boat mainly travelled to what is now modern-day Jakarta in Indonesia. Perhaps one of the ships’ captains once resided in this grand house.

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#2 Binnen Brouwersstraat

Take a short detour south along Binnen Brouwersstraat to #2. This adorable stone tablet features this enormous beaver, chewing on a tree almost to the point of falling in half. Yet, we are catching him at the moment just before he achieves his end goal. The wording under the tablet says “Castor Tenax 1993,” which translates to “the persistent beaver.”

But the date on the tablet is also of great importance. The entire concept for the gable’s design refers to the tumultuous process of renovations the poor owner undertook when he bought the property in 1990. His aim was to move right in. But he was met with problem after problem. First, a large fire. And then many long and arduous delays in the repairs required and remodelling. The building wasn’t deemed livable until 1993. Three long years after his initial purchase! But he never gave up, just like our persistent little beaver who kept working hard. To eventually achieve its goal.

#66 Haarlemmerstraat

Head back to the Haarlemmerstraat and walk until you reach the impossibly narrow building located at #66. The stone gable above the doorway is as wide as the door. It features a shield with the image of a red lion rearing up on its hind legs. Above the lion is a red crown sitting atop the shield. But this is not a king’s crown, but a duke’s. If you look closely, you can see the fur edging around the brim of the crown made from the hair of a stoat. The words under the crest state that this is the coat of arms of the province of Limburg.

But curiously, we know this tablet to date back to the 17th century when the coat of arms of Limburg was only established in 1886. Before there was Limburg, there were the Lords of Gulik, whose lands would go on to be the south of Limburg, and this was their crest. Today, if you look at the official, you can still see the red lion incorporated into the design of the larger four-cornered shield, representing each part of the province.

#16 Droogbak

Continue north until you reach the island’s edge. From here, walk east along Haarlemmer Houttuinen, which turns into Droogbak street. Here we will stop at #16. The gorgeous sculpted carving on the curved stone plinth is one of the most intricate designs in the city. It was made in 1742 for compass maker Pieter de Jong. Look closely, and the carving features a large compass on a decorative wooden plinth. Amsterdam was a hub for shipbuilders and skippers. A good repair shop close to the harbour was an important feature of the city.

On either side of the compass are two hourglasses. Hourglasses were invented around the 12th century. They were a key feature of a sailing ship as they were used onboard to help time the ship’s watches. A ribbon above the entire piece has the name of the compass maker emblazoned upon it.

#59 Haarlemmerstraat

Head back south to Haarlemmerstraat and make a stop at #59. Above the second-floor window is a gorgeous shield with an array of flowers and foliage exploding from behind it. In the centre of the shield is a large crowned stork. He stands with his one leg raised and a large eel caught in his beak. The stork crest was installed around the 16th century to symbolize good luck. Often good luck symbols were popular icons to put on the houses of sailors to ensure they returned home unharmed.

Binnen Vissersstraat & Brouwersgracht

The name “Binnen Vissersstraat” is Dutch for Fishing street. It was named as such because this roadway ends at the mouth of the canal. From this street, fishermen would bring in their day catch and take it to the marketplace.

#4 Binnen Vissersstraat

Turn south down Binnen Vissersstraat, where at #4 you’ll find a funny stone plaque. The tablet depicts the very house you are standing in front of. Beside the house is a large green tree. Look closely, and you’ll see gold coins growing from the tree and a man collecting the coins in a wheelbarrow below. The tablet was designed in the 1980s during the restoration of the house. The restoration was a costly one. To make light of the situation, the owner had this stone gable designed to reference the fact he wished “money grew on trees.”

#9 Binnen Vissersstraat

At #9, we see an even more modern design, made in 1997 for Barbara Jonckheer when she retired. Jonckheer was an essential figure in the Amsterdam Bureau of Conservation. Her efforts to restore and conserve art throughout the city was her life’s work. And although you might not know her name, so many historical buildings that you will admire along the way no doubt have been touched by her in some way. The image of a stately young spire, bowing with his feathered cap, is a way of showing reverence for the great woman.

Brouwersgracht

Turn down Brouwersgracht and head back west. Gracht is the Dutch word for Canal, and Brouwers means brewery. The name came from the 16th century when this area of town was home to many beer, gin and liqueur breweries. Many houses along this street still have their large wooden shutters, which identified the homes as warehouses back in the day. The Brouwersgracht was voted the most beautiful street in Amsterdam, so take in the sights as we walk along.

#52 Brouwersgracht

At #52 Brouwersgracht, we find the old home of furniture designer Andries Tenck. Tenck bought the house in 1759, as indicated on the stone gable. The tablet depicts how this ingenious chair-maker could turn a simple wooden piece of furniture into an extravagant fantasy. Below the Louis XV-style chair on the right are the words “nooyt volmaakt” which means “never perfect.” A classic moniker of artists who are never happy with their work. Such is the plight of the creative.

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#28 Binnen Wieringerstraat

Make a quick detour up Binnen Wieringerstraat to see the house at #28. De Visser is the inscription underneath the gable, which translate to, “the Fisherman.” And right there on the front, we can see an 18th-century fisherman dressed in traditional gare. He is seen holding a large fishing spear in one hand and his catch of the day in the other. In the foreground stands two stacks of barrels on either side and a smoking pot on the right. But how could a lowly fisherman buy a house such as this? Well, the answer lies in the contents of the barrels. The answer? Whale blubber.

Whale Oil

Whaling in the Netherlands began in the 17th century when the Dutch discovered the artic fishing grounds. At the industry’s peak, about 25% of ships in the Dutch fleet were whaling vessels. Whale oil was hugely profitable in the 17th and 18th centuries, as they could derive whale oil from the fat in the mammal’s body. Before electricity, oil lamps were the only way people could light their homes, street lamps and stoves. So oil was like gold dust. While you could get oil from livestock, it stank and produced thick smoke, while whale oil, on the other hand, burned bright and clear! Whale oil is made by boiling strips of blubber harvested from whales. And this is exactly what is depicted in the stone gable on the front of the house. What a story!

#76 Brouwersgracht

Back along Brouwersgracht, make your way to #76. You’ll need to look down to see the stone tablet above the basement door. Unlike the other on this tour, which is usually above the front door, this one is a little more hidden away.

The scene depicts the various stages of making wine. On the left side of the frame, the grapes are plucked from the vines, then in the centre, we can see someone stomping the grapes with their feet inside a large barrel. The last vignette depicts the wine poured from the barrel into a glass. Ready to be enjoyed by the public! As we are back again on Brewery street, this is a good indication that this building would have once been a wine distillery. I love the design of this carving. It feels very stylized and different from everything else we’ve seen.

#114 Brouwersgracht

The gevelstenen at #114 Brouwersgracht is unique because it is three-dimensional. It literally jumps out at us from the facade of the old brick building. The brightly painted blue and red emperor’s crown is flanked by the warehouse’s black wooden shutters. 

In the 15th century, even though Amsterdam was just a fishing village, the emperor awarded them the right to use the emperor’s crown. Having the right to use the emperor’s crown was a big deal, as it acted as a means of showing you were protected by the emperor and his army. Amsterdam was given the right to use the emperor’s crown thanks to the large amounts of money it loaned Emperor Maximillian I during the Hook and Cod wars in the 15th century. They might have just been a fishing village, but fishing brought in money, and the merchants who traded in fish brought vast amounts of gold. 

#133 Brouwersgracht

Cross over the Papiermolensluis to reach the opposite side of the canal. From here, you can make your way to #133 Brouwersgracht. Of all the animals you might imagine seeing depicted in Amsterdam, a hippo would perhaps be the last of your guesses, and yet here it is! In fact, the inscription beneath the stone carving states that this is “the hippo in the canal.“

Jan Joost Peskens was the house’s first occupant and was obsessed with hippos. In his early childhood, he had read all about them in a book by biologist Hillenius. To Peskens, they seemed like mythological creatures and yet somewhere out there, they were real! His love for the hippo never wained, and for this birthday, after purchasing the house, his wife had this stone gable made special for him. It was unveiled on the big day, and even though he might never see a real hippo himself, he would be greeted by this friendly face every day upon his return home.

#163 Brouwersgracht

On the corner of the house at #163 Brouwersgracht, you can find the sign from an old grainery that once stood here. The grainery was built in 1729, and although the original building has been demolished, the house sign has been preserved. In the carving, you can see the process by which people would come to buy their corn and grain. They would fill up this wooden barrel with grains and then use the attached metal bow to smooth and level the grain on top. Ensuring each measure of grain was properly levelled, and each barrel load contained the same amount. Pretty ingenious invention for the 16th century.

Palmgracht

#3 Palmgracht

Make your way west along Palmgracht. The Palmgracht, also known as the Palm Canal, was once waterfilled before the 1850s. During those years, many of the Jordaan neighbourhood canals were filled in due to the poor water quality and the need to create more livable space for the increasing population. The name “palm canal” is odd as palm trees could never grow here in Amsterdam. But Dutch sailors and merchants who worked in the Indonesian Dutch colonies had come to adore the beauty of these fantastic plants. And although they couldn’t bring them home with them, their love of the tropical plant lived on.

This is exemplified at #3 Palmgracht, where a palm tree is represented in the stone gable. The palm tree was not just a beauty to look at but also a plant that could thrive against all odds. Not wind, nor drought or even the greatest of storms could destroy the mighty palm. So many people use the palm tree as a symbol to represent triumph over adversity.

#60 Palmgracht

Towards the street’s western end, you’ll find stone gables aplenty. At #60, we can find the two golden nightingales. The nightingale is frequently associated with creativity and related to nature’s purity. The tablet was added around the 20th century when the house was owned by architect E. Van Houten. Undoubtedly, creativity and mother nature’s inspirations are important to architects and perhaps why Van Houten selected the nightingales as his house emblem. 

#68 Palmgracht

At #68 Palmgracht, we find the brilliant image of the Hindu creature Rakshasa. Rakshasa is a mythological demon or goblin. Rakshasas have the power to change their shape at will and appear as animals, monsters, or in the case of female Rakshasa, as beautiful women. Many immigrants to Amsterdam came from Dutch Indonesia. And they brought with them their vibrant culture and history. This Rakshasa was designed to replicate the one embedded in the front of the medieval palace of Singosari, twelve kilometres north of the Indonesian city Malang.

Be sure to get up close and personal with the carving to make out all the tiny details in the sculpture. You can see the little faces hiding within the Rakshasa’s headdress. She sits with one hand projecting outwards towards the street. The Rakshasa bares her fangs and holds a large club in her other hand. She looks quiet and menacing. These symbols were often placed outside the home in order to protect it from evil.

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#63 Palmgracht

Cross the street and head over to #63 Palmgracht. This house bears one of the oldest stone tablets in the city. De Blom Kool, or the “Flowering Cabbage” tablet, was installed here in 1679. Willem Harmensz Kool owned the house and worked in the Waag as a weight-bearer. In the 17th century, numbers #61, #63 and #65 all contained the same cauliflower symbols, but today this is the only one that remains. The cabbage was his house emblem, as “Kool” means cabbage.

The Waag was the “weigh house” and was originally a city gate and part of the walls of Amsterdam. A weigh house did literally what it sounds like, weighing out various goods brought into the city, which required taxation. And Kool, as a weight-bearer, was charged with ensuring all taxes were paid in full. 

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#73 Palmgracht

At #73, you’ll find the House of the Radishes. Another vegetable-themed house! But unlike the previous house with a history dating back hundreds of years, this home’s gable was designed in 1973. The owner loved the song ‘The Radish waltz,’ written and sung by Louis Davids. And when the house was renovated in 1973, they added this vibrant new gable onto the brick facade.

Lindengracht

Take a walk south along Lijnbaansgracht, beside the scenic canal. Continue along until you reach Lindengracht.

#211 Lindengracht

At #211 Lindengracht is where the 17th-century residents of Amsterdam would have come to purchase their tobacco. The business was marked by this stone plaque featuring an enslaved man holding a large tobacco leaf in his hand. On the ground are three rolls of tobacco, and in the background, we can find two woven baskets used to harvest the tobacco leaves. During the 17th century, they called this stone gable the “Tobacco Moor.” But the term Moor is now considered a derogatory word applied to dark-skinned Muslims of North Africa. These men were enslaved by the Dutch Europeans and used to farm the tobacco fields. And while the Netherlands banned the slave trade in 1814, memories of their cruelty remain etched on the stones of the street even to this day.

#160 Lindengracht

Above the door to the old cafe on the corner of Lindengracht and Tweede Goudsbloemdwarsstraat is the most splendid little vignette carved above the portal. Unlike the other tablets made of stone, this piece is made of wood. And miraculously, has been preserved here since the 18th century. It marked the entrance to an old wine cellar, as seen in the carving by stacks of barrels lining the left side of the frame. The most curious and wide-eyed cat looks out towards us on the right side, hiding among the vine of plump grape trees. Cats are often used as symbols of femininity. Many people interpret this as a sign that in here this establishment the woman was the one truly in charge!

#73 Lindengracht

Recently the stone tablet on #73 Lindengracht has been restored to its former glory. This house was a former blacksmith shop in the 19th century. Marking the spot is the stone tablet showing a suspended horseshoe. The horseshoe is the most iconic symbol of the blacksmith. The word for blacksmith is written in Dutch below the horseshoe. The large black arched doorways on either side of the lower level are also clear signs of an old horse barn once being here. Large doors were required to provide access to the horse and carriages, which often would come here to be repaired, just like taking your car into the auto shop!

#55 Lindengracht

Above the doorway to #55 is a stone gable featuring a great green tree. But instead of bearing fruit like apples or pears, hanging in its branches are silver painted fish swimming amongst the leaves. Just below the swimming fish is a nest, but within it, a bundle of eels instead of birds. Almost unsurprisingly, the plaque was designed in the acid-riddled 1970s. Even the text below the icons is subverted, written backwards, only to be read with a mirror. 

Palingoproer

But the scene isn’t derived from a drug-induced dream. Instead, it is a reference to a famous historical event, the Palingoproer, which occurred here along these canals in 1886. The Palingoproer or ‘the Eel riot‘ started when the police attempted to stop the Jordaan neighbourhood’s citizens from playing their favourite eel-pulling game. Eel pulling was an old Amsterdam pastime where a rope was stretched over the canal, and a live eel was hung from it. Players had to sail their boats underneath the rope to try and grab the slippery eel without falling into the water.

The game was deemed as “cruel public entertainment” by the government of the time, and the police went to put a stop to it. None of the authorities could have imagined just how popular this event was, and just for fiercely the people of Amsterdam would fight to preserve their right to go eel-pulling. When the police started to force spectators to disperse, a riot broke out. In the fighting, 26 people were killed by police. The fish and eels in the gable stone here are meant to commemorate the uprising. And perhaps remind the authorities of just how important culture is to the Dutch people, no matter how silly or frivolous.

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#53 Lindengracht

Above the windows at #53 Lindengracht is the gable of Barend Wargaren. Wargaren lived here in 1742. The name “Warren” means “war of yarn,” and the image we see depicted in the stone plaque is the allegory based on the name. On the left is a monkey sitting at a spinning wheel with the help of a small dog who aids him on the twisting wheel. On the right sits another monkey on a stool. He also tries to twist a yarn spool, but he uses a wooden reel.

Although the monkey on the right looks like he has spun more wool onto his spool, his method creates a weaker product. You twist two or more single threads together by using the twisting wheel and spinning wheel together, thus creating a stronger yarn. This takes more time, but diligence will always win the war over foolish haste. That is the moral of the story.

#5 Lindengracht

At #5 Lindengracht we find a stone tablet featuring the most iconic symbol of the Netherlands; the windmill. On either side of the mill are two bundles of yellow stacks of wood awaiting their turn to be sawed inside. Before the 19th century, Amsterdam, and this canal in particular, was home to dozens of small wind-powered sawmills. Back then, this area of town wasn’t a hub of residential living. This area once lay behind the city walls and was considered the rural outskirts. Therefore, it was common to have windmills along the ramparts as it was a halfway point between farmer’s fields and the city’s marketplaces where milled wood could be sold.

Prinsengracht

The Prinsengracht is a regal canal named after the Prince of Orange. It is the fourth of the four main canals belonging to the famous canal belt. And as such many of the houses along this canal are some of the most beautiful.

#36 Prinsengracht

The soaring facade at #36 Prinsengracht is a stunning example of the best elements of Amsterdam’s iconic architecture. One of these characteristics is the beautiful neck-gable roof ornaments in many Dutch canal houses. Also displayed on the facade of the house are “oeils-de-boeuf” windows. These windows, also called “ox eye” windows are small round windows that flank either side of the attic that resemble the eyes of an animal looking down on the city below. The fantastical house dates back to 1650, as marked on the stone carving towards the top of the house. 

Above the 3rd floor is where we can find our stone tablet, which depicts a rich blue sack filled with white feathers. In the 17th century, the house went by the name ‘als daer De Veersack in de gevel staet,’ which means, “there where the feather sack is in the façade.” The building was initially used as a feather bed warehouse during the 17th and 18th centuries. After closing down, it was later used as a sugar and chocolate factory.

#60 Prinsengracht

On the front of the house at #60 is a simple oblong stone depicting an upside-down bowler hat. It even has the words “BOLHOED,” meaning bowler hat, written on the sign. The building was previously home to a vegetarian restaurant named “De Bolhoed,” but it has since closed down. Hopefully, a new restaurant will move in and keep the bowler head name going!

#46 Tuinstraat

Turn west along Tuinstraat until you reach #46. At this house was where you could once have come to buy your soap. On the 17th-century gable stone, you can read the inscription that says, “IN DE ASWERCKER,” which means “In the ashes-worker. Carved into the stone gable is the image of a worker, piling up a series of large copper barrels. But what do ashes and barrels have to do with soap? Well, I’m glad you asked!

Inside these barrels, the soapmaker would have stored Potash. Potash is made from plant or wood ashes that have been soaked in a “pot” of water. Potash is one of the most ancient ways of making soap, a technique that dates back to the Bronze age. Ashes were transformed into lye, which is still to this day a key ingredient in soap-making. In the sixteenth century, the Dutch were one of the largest soap suppliers and consumers. And the warehouses all along this stretch of roadway would have been used to produce these sought-after products.

Egelantiersstraat 

Walk one street south to find yourself walking along Egelantiersstraat. ‘Egelantiers‘ was a chamber of rhetoric, also known as a dramatic society, that rose up in this area of Amsterdam in 1517. The symbol for the organization was the Eglantine Rose or Sweet Briar Rose in the shape of a cross. It was a symbol of love, and their slogan was “In Love, Flourishing.” It’s no surprise to find an actor enamoured with romance, but the actual reference to the rose was from a beloved poem by Beatrijs. In this poem, two young lovers meet secretly by the wild roses.

These dramatic societies were closely connected with political leaders. Even back then, the government saw how theatre could be an instrument of propaganda and worked with the groups as an early form of public relations for the city. Many of the stone tablets on these streets are very dramatic, inspired by the theatrical movements in this part of the city.

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#52 Egelantiersstraat

As we’ve mentioned before, not everyone could read back in the middle ages; that’s why we have these stone tablets. To give visual examples of the professions found within. But in addition to not being able to read, many poorer citizens did not know how to write either. So what did these people do when they needed to write a letter or sign a legal document? In this situation, you would find a writing master!

The stone gable at house #52 Egelantiersstraat is where the old writing master once operated. You can see a goose feather quill in his hand as the pen master sets out to write on the parchment paper below. This tablet dates back to 1618 and was made for Hendrick Theunisz. In addition to writing for people, Theunisz would offer writing lessons out of this shop. Teaching the public to write so they wouldn’t always have to employ his services.

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#24 Egelantiersstraat

The narrow entrance at #24 Egelantiersstraat features one of the most elaborate and beautiful stone gables in town. The old stone displays the words “ANSLO’S HOFJE” below the shield, which crowns the insignia. Cornelis Claesz Anslo was a wealthy cloth merchant and Mennonite pastor who lived here on Egelantiersstraat. Anslo was actually good friends with Rembrandt, and after Anslo’s wife’s death, Rembrandt painted a picture of the two after her untimely death.

But Anslo wasn’t one to hoard his wealth and opened up an almshouse here in Amsterdam. There, he offered free housing to the elderly as early as 1626. The stone tablet’s shield is surrounded by acanthus leaves. The symbol in the centre is the emblem of the house of Anslo and features a circle with three arrows piercing it, topped with a golden crown.

#8 Egelantiersgracht

The beautiful brick house at #8 Egelantiersgracht features a series of stone gables set into the friezes above the first floor. The two tablets in the center are inscribed with the date the house was built in 1649. On either corner of the building are two different carvings. The right corner features a brewer stirring a large cauldron. On the left is the image of Saint Willibrordus. Saint Willibrordus famously was able to turn a barrel of beer into a barrel of wine.

In the 17th century, when you combined these two symbols, people knew this was a sign that you’d find a tavern inside! During the 17th century, beer was drunk with every meal, not water like we drink today. Back then, water wasn’t potable, and beer was considered the safest to drink as it had been processed. Even children drank beer with every meal! But thankfully, beer in the middle ages only contained an alcohol content of 2%. 

#50 Egelantiersgracht

Above the window at #50 Egelantiersgracht is a beautiful red rose brushed with gold leaf. Around the rose petals is the inscription ‘In Love Bloeyende,‘ which means “In Love, Flourishing.” Which, as we learned before, is the motto of the Eglantiers.

#72 Egelantiersgracht

A few doors down at #72, on the corner of Egelantiersgracht and Tweede Egelantiersdwarsstraat, is the large cartouche of the brilliant golden sun. The brick cafe was originally a coach house in the 17th century designed by famous architect Philip Vingboons. The three houses along the street were named the sun, the moon and the stars. And each one originally had a stone tablet depicting its namesake. During renovations in the 1970s, the cartouche on #72 was removed from its original location nearer the roof and moved to the lower level, above the doorway, so more people could appreciate this ancient stone gable.

#15 Egelantiersgracht

Crossing the canal over the Hilletjesbrug, make your way to #15 Egelantiersgracht. Here, you’ll find an 18th-century stone tablet featuring a carpenter hard at work. In his hand, he works with his chisel, and in the background, you can see various other tools of the trade. The square frame in the upper right-hand corner of the carving was a design every carpenter needed to create to be accepted into the carpenters guild. It was seen as proof of their competency. So when you see this symbol on a carpenter’s house, you know they are the real deal!

Bloemgracht

Walking along the Prinsengracht over to the Bloemgracht. The Bloemgracht is named after the ‘Bolwerk de Bloem‘ windmill, which once stood here in 1614. The iconic windmill remained here until 1878, when it was moved to Haarlemmerweg. In the 17th century, the Bloemgracht was one of the most popular areas for artists and craftsmen to live and work. The road was full of dyers who used the nearby canal to rinse their fabrics. Willem Blaeu started his cartography workshop here in 1635. A large print shop was built in 1672, and later in the 19th century, a famous graphic trading house was opened.

But most famously, the painter Rembrandt had a studio on the Bloemgracht in the 1660s. In the 18th and 19th centuries, the canal became a hotspot for sugar factories. But these disappeared after WWII when the area transformed into a residential neighbourhood. And today it remains one of the most picturesque in the city!

Bloemgracht and Leliedwarsstraat

On the corner of Bloemgracht and Leliedwarsstraat, we can find the old stone tablet of ‘The Dove and the Olive Branch.’ The larger-than-life image of the dove stands perched atop an engraving of Noah’s arc. In 1614, the land here was purchased by carpenter Franchoijs Gisep. Gisep built two matching houses side by side. Just as Noah had two of each animal brought aboard his boat, Gisep had two houses. The houses were named the “Dove” and the “Oliver Branch,” respectively. Gisep had individual stone gables created for each house, but these were lost over the years.

In the 20th century, when the houses were joined together to form one large property, the new owner wanted to pay homage to the history of the home. So he created this blended stone tablet that ties the entire story together. Another example of modern-day owners still preserving the historic past of these old buildings.

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#15 Bloemgracht

Above the windows on the second floor is the 17th-century tablet depicting an armoured knight carrying a large spiked club. The knight is dressed in the armour of the Magnus of Schagen gentlemen. Schagen is a city northwest of Amsterdam whose coat of arms is depicted in the tablet. The text on the inscription beneath the image reads, “the knight and the rose.”

#19 Bloemgracht

The Pelican Book House can be found a few doors down at #19 Bloemgracht. We have seen the pelican’s image used as a symbol to represent the blood of Jesus Christ previously. But here, it is even more glorious, with the image of the sun of righteousness enlightening the entire scene. Below the bird is a cube with the symbols of Rosicrucianism. These are a series of lettered roses surrounding a golden cross. The word “Rosicrucianism” literally translates to “rose cross.” Rosicrucianism was based on Christian mysticism with occult traditions. The stone pelican was used to mark the entrance to their mystic library.

The entire stone is encircled by a bright green snake swallowing its tail. This is a classical symbol signifying the cycle of birth and death. The snake swallowing its own tail also represents the knowledge of good and evil. In Rosicrucianism, the collection of knowledge in their mystic libraries was one of the most important touchstones of the order.

#29 Bloemgracht

As the street was home to the Rosicrucian order, we can find even more mythical symbols abound. This unicorn tablet at #29 Bloemgracht was designed in the 20th century. It features the noble, rearing up against the brilliant golden sun. The sun’s rays emanate from the twisted horn, almost as if the sun is sprouting out of the unicorn’s head.

In the background, a beautiful waterfall flows down around a peaceful forest. The flowing water represents the symbol of everlasting life. Classically the blood of a unicorn was said to give the drinker everlasting life. And in mysticism, many people would seek out a unicorn horn to create the elixir of life, which was said to give the drinker everlasting life.

#59 Bloemgracht

This elegant stone tablet is a modern creation made in honour of the woodworking company, ‘Fa Hassink en Zn.’ The shop was opened in 1934 and remained here for over 50 years, closing in 1995. The swirling wood curl from the gilded block plane in the center wraps around the frame, almost tying it up in a pretty bow!

#77 & 81 Bloemgracht

The house symbols at #77 and #81 Bloemgracht are the largest and most impressive of all the plaques we’ve seen. Each scene depicted above the entrances features the same theme: “The old sower” and “The young sower.”

At #77, we can see a farmer sowing seeds from a simple satchel along his freshly ploughed field. A small house is featured in the right-hand corner, and a small tree sits off to the left in the distance. The houses along this street were once sugar refineries, and these stone tablets were commissioned for their warehouses. As they were created during the baroque period, the stone gables’ edges are decorated in ornate floral curls.

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The tablet at #81 features a young farmer, perhaps the son of the man featured in the previous frame. In this scene, the house on the right is much larger and surrounded by a few other homes. We can also see that the tree has grown substantially. This little vignette is perhaps a vision of the future. The hard work the father did paid off and provided a brighter future for his son. A good message for the warehouse workers to see on their way to work.

#87, 89 & 91 Bloemgracht

The enormous old warehouse stretching from #87 to #91 Bloemgracht was once the “pearls of the Jordaan” neighbourhood. The original warehouse was built in the 17th century in this beautiful Renaissance style. It was called the De Drie Hendricken, or House of the Three Hendricks. Hendrick Roelofsz was the architect of the building, and atop each of the three matching buildings, he placed a different image to denote one from the other.

The gable stones depict a townsman, a farmer and a sailor. These characters represented the three distinct parts of the Dutch economy; city, country and sea. The townsman is dressed in expensive finery, knee braces, a large billowing cloak, a wide-brimmed hat, and a pair of shoes with golden buckles. The farmer can be seen carrying a spade in his right hand and a stick with a basket on his right shoulder. Finally, we have the sailor depicted carrying a basket in his hands, an anchor at his feet, and a ship sailing in the background. After the warehouses closed down, the building was converted into three individual townhomes.

The Jordaan is full of more than its fair share of hidden symbols. And these stone gables are just one of the many hidden histories that lurk along the cobblestone-lined canals. I hope you enjoyed this tour and saw some amazing things along the way! Let me know in the comment how you liked the tour and anything else you’d like me to uncover for your next trip to Amsterdam!

Happy Travels, Adventurers.

References: gevelstenenvanamsterdam.nl | amsterdamsebinnenstad.nl

The post Ultimate Amsterdam Architecture Walking Tour, Jordaan’s Gable Stones & Secrets Symbolism first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.

The Museo Casa Estudio has been remarkably preserved and restored. It is open for visitors to come inside and explore, a chance to step into the intimate spaces where Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo painted, entertained and simply existed together, as apart. Come with us as we explore the entirety of the Museo Casa Estudio and learn more about the artists who lived here and the man who built this revolutionary property!

Guide to the Museo Casa Estudio Diego Rivera & Frida Kahlo

1. Location & Access
2. Admission & Hours
3. About Diego Rivera
4. About Frida Kahlo
5. Juan O'Gorman
6. Modernist Architecture
   • Functionalism
7. Designing the Casa Estudio
   • Life inside the Casa Estudio
   • Studio as Museum
8. Exterior Foyer
   • The Bathrooms
9. Diego's House
   • 2nd Floor Bedroom
10. Diego's Studio
    • Mezzanine
    • Rooftop
    • The Bridge of Diego and Frida's Love
11. Frida's Studio
    • What the Water Gave Me
12. The O'Gorman Guest House
    • Dining Room Mural

Location & Access

The Museo Casa Estudio Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo is located in the neighbourhood of San Angel, in the far south of the city centre. To access the museum, you can take an Uber or taxi directly into the district’s centre. The Uber fare costs about $7 USD and takes about 20-30 minutes (depending on traffic) from the centre of Mexico City. If you’d prefer to take public transit, you can hop on the metro towards Miguel Angel de Quevedo Station. From here, you’ll have to change to one of the city’s metro buses that will take you directly into the Altavista suburbs where the museum is located.

Admission & Hours

The museum is open from Tuesday to Sunday, 11 am to 5 pm. The price of admission is $40 pesos for adults, but children under 13 and seniors are free. Admission is free for everyone on Sundays.

About Diego Rivera

Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo are perhaps two of the most well-known artists to come out of Mexico. It is perhaps no coincidence that the two geniuses would find themselves caught in a passionate web of love, art and fiery drama. Diego Rivera was born in 1886 in Guanajuato City, Mexico. When he was born, he came out of the womb along with his twin brother. Sadly, his brother Carlos died two years after they were born. Twins have this unspoken, deep, almost soulful connection with each other and this loss so early in Diego’s life perhaps touched the young boy with trauma and pain that it seems many infamous artists carry with them. Diego started to draw at only three, just after his brother died. Perhaps as a means to express his grief.

Mexican Muralism

His talents only grew from then, and at the age of ten, he went to study art at the San Carlos Academy of Fine Arts in Mexico City. Rivera travelled to Europe after flourishing at the school in Mexico City. It was there he would refine his unique style of painting under the influence of modern artists like Pablo Picasso and looked to the works of Paul Gauguin and Henri Matisse for inspiration. Rivera returned to Mexico City in 1922 as he had been commissioned by the government to head up their new muralism program. The project was created to promote aimed to National pride through murals that told the history of Mexico that even the working class, illiterate masses could interpret.

About Frida Kahlo

While Diego was painting murals all over Mexico City, Frida Kahlo was just a young girl with her own struggles. Frida was born in 1907 in Coyoacan, a small neighbourhood just outside the centre of Mexico City. Similar to Rivera, Frida had her own ordeals early on in life. She was afflicted with polio at only six years old. This meant that her right leg would always be shorter and thinner than the left, a disability that would affect her for the rest of her life.

But Frida never let this illness defeat her spirit despite being kept isolated at home at such a young age. She looked up to her artistic father, who was a famous photographer, and it was him that inspired her to start painting. While at home, her father taught her things she would never learn so early in school, everything from philosophy, literature and, of course, art and photography. When she went back to school, she flourished, as learning was something that truly excited her.

The Bus Accident

But just as her life was taking off once more, she was hit, literally, by another setback. On her way back from school on the day, in the centre of Mexico City, just a few blocks from where Rivera was painting, the bus she was riding on was hit by a streetcar. A large iron handrail pierced her pelvis, broke her spine in three places and crushed her right leg, as well as a litany of other injuries. She stayed in the hospital for months and had to be put into a plaster corset to aid her spine and chest bones in healing. This meant months of bedrest with nothing to do. Nothing to do but paint. Once more, her father encouraged her to turn her pain into art. Despite these life-altering incidents, she responded with the same vigour for the life she refused to lose despite these accidents.

Frida and Diego’s Marriage

After recovering, Frida discovered the thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life, and that was to paint. She was insistent on becoming the best painter she could be, so she sought out the advice of the greatest Mexican painter she knew, Diego Rivera. Rivera was immediately taken aback by this energetic and bold girl and her obvious talent. Despite being married already (to two different women), Frida and Diego started a relationship. They would be married in 1929 at a wedding her parents entitled “the marriage between an elephant and a dove.“

The couple were immediately taken out of Mexico City and moved to the United States. Rivera had to paint several commissions in San Francisco, Detroit, and New York for the famous Rockefellers. But they knew they would return home to Mexico City and wanted a beautiful hacienda to come back to. This is where their friend, architect and artist Juan O’Gorman would come in!

Juan O’Gorman

O’Gorman had been studying functionalism, inspired by the Swiss designer Charles-Édouard Jeanneret, known as Le Corbusier. O’Gorman was enthusiastic about bringing this modernist style to his home in Mexico City. He saw Mexico City as being a hub for modern thinking and exquisite architecture. The old Hacienda Goicoechea, now the famous San Angel Inn, had sold off the large expanse of their land to become residential housing. O’Gorman loved the neighbourhood and purchased the land currently being used as the tennis courts of the nearby hotel. 

Modernist Architecture

O’Gorman had plans to turn these two plots into the first modernist home in Mexico City. But when he displayed his plan it was very controversial. Most homes here are super traditional, fitting into that 18th century colonial style, and this new modernist vision wasn’t an appealing sight to the neighbours. But despite them turning their noses up at this new technique, O’Gorman solidered on. He built one home as a proof of concept. This home still stands today as the Museo Casa Estudio’s guest house.

Functionalism

Functionalism was a style defined by buildings that were designed around their purpose and function and revolted against excess decoration that didn’t serve a objective. In many European functionalist buildings, glass, steel and concrete were essential elements in their construction. In Mexico, in addition to these materials, O’Gorman wanted to incorporate clay and natural plants into the buildings. Instead of building fences out of wood or wrought iron, he planted rows of tall cacti along the roadside. These elements were native to the environment and followed the functionalist ethos. He would use other plants to create borders that looked almost like they had naturally grown up around the house.

Another element significant in functionalism is using practical elements as expressive decoration. A great example of this is the exposed helicoidal staircases that swirl up the sides of the houses. The stairs are a means of access and yet bring an interesting spacial element to the house’s exterior. Water tanks and drainage pipes also provide dynamic structural details around the house. These were all painted a contrasting orange colour and created this framing effect. Instead of looking too industrial, they manage to have their own architectural charm. But they are, in fact, used for rainwater drainage so are not just ornamental.

Diego’s house features a saw-tooth roof design. This design, while it might look decorative, is actually used to allow natural light into the interior while blocking out the heat of direct sun exposure. This was a technique popular inside industrial factories as early as the 16th century, before electiral lighting could be used to illuminate the interiors. It remains today as one of the most ingenious techniques to bring natural light into the interiors.

Designing the Casa Estudio

When Diego and Frida saw what O’Gorman had created, they quickly decided to purchase the entire property and commissioned him to build them twin buildings. Each one would act as both a residence and a studio, unique to each artist. The two buildings were designed as a pair but also as two oppositional designs. Tied together through the consistent elements of functionalism and a bridge that brought the building together at the top.

Diego’s studio is painted off-white and rust-red. Simple, natural colours. On the other hand, Frida’s studio is painted the same ethereal cobalt blue as her Casa Azul. Both studios feature floor-to-ceiling windows, giving the interior spaces an indoor/outdoor feeling. But are protected from the elements, meaning you can paint inside while feeling like you’re out en plein air. The ideal of these twin structures is eerily similar to Diego and his brother Carlos. Connected together despite the fates of their lives going in two very different directions.

Life inside the Casa Estudio

Construction on the houses ended in 1932, and the couple moved in 1934. Diego and Frida lived here from 1934 to 1939. In 1939, they divorced, and Frida moved home to Casa Azul. Diego kept the house and continued living and painting here during their separation. After their divorce, the couple actually got back together, only 9-months later. But even after this reconciliation, Frida preferred to remain in the Casa Azul.

After Frida’s passing in 1954, Diego would continue to live in the studio house full time. He treasured his time in his home until his death on November 24, 1957. Rivera died in his studio, and his body remained there as friends and family came to sit vigil inside to mourn the loss. After this, his body was moved to the Palacio de Bellas Artes for his grand state funeral. 

Studio as Museum

After his death, Diego’s daughters inherited the houses. When they moved in, their went about drastically changing some of the most iconic aspects of the house and making many ugly additions. They removed the cacti and installed a stone fence. They also demolished the bridge that connected the buildings, one of the most important aspects of the house. Years later, the houses were gifted to the Instituto Nacional de Bellas Artes to be enjoyed by the public. Restoration began in 1995 to bring back the original nature of the homes and preserve their architectural value. All the additions and fencing were removed, and the house seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

Exterior Foyer

One of the most wonderful things about functionalist-style houses is that they sit on stilts. These stilts are called pilotis, slender columns that support an upper level. When you walk into the property, the entire exterior courtyard feels like an open-air foyer. But with wonderful shaded areas under those upper levels to escape the sun’s heat (essential in Mexico City!) This open air foyer really exposes the incredible landscape architecture that O’Gorman created around the property. It feels like a gorgeous garden floating below.

Another enchanting thing to study while walking around the exterior are the exposed staircases. The spiral staircase which curls its way up the side of Diego’s studio is a wonderful geometric cement column contrasted against the solid red walls. The stairs almost have this musical-like curvature that flows out of the house.

The only exterior staircase in Frida’s house leads from the second-floor studio up to the rooftop. She would use this pathway to cross the thin bridge which connected to Diego’s house. Especially considering her frail condition and problems with her legs, it’s impressive she would brave such a dangerous-looking crossing. Especially when it originally was designed without any handrails!

The Bathrooms

Standing in the coutyard, you’ll see a smaller blue building, set behind Frida’s house. It looks almost like a minature version of her studio. Today, this tiny structure houses the public washrooms that visitors can use during their stay. Although you might think this was an addition when the museum was built, this building is original! It was designed by O’Gorman as a photography studio meant for Frida’s father. Even now, just as then, nothing is wasted. Functionalism reigns eternal.

Diego’s House

You enter Diego’s House first, via the exterior spiral staircase. The large, mostly empty room you enter on the first floor was used initially for Diego to display the artworks he had up for sale. His personal art gallery. Today, the space houses just a few remaining pieces from Diego’s collections of Pre-Columbian artifacts. Today the majority of his collections are housed in the Museo Anahuacalli.

During their marriage, the Museo Anahuacalli was a pipe dream of both Rivera and Kahlo. They both adored collecting these precious pieces of Mexican history and wanted to share them with the public. Rivera had started construction on this project just before his death. But it was O’Gorman who would see it through as the chief architect in charge of achieveing Rivera’s vision. Much of Rivera’s muralism was influenced by these pre-Columbian figurines. In Rivera’s art we can see the intense facial expressions and powerful geometric shapes reflected in these figurines.

2nd Floor Bedroom

Head back up the stairs, either using the smaller interior staircase or the outer curved stairs. The second level is where we find the painter’s studio and bedroom. The little room you’ll see upon entering is Rivera’s tiny bedroom. In functionalist buildings proportions of bedrooms were much smaller than we would expect. This was because they were seen as rooms only used for sleep and therefore didn’t require a great use of space. This preserved more capacity in areas like the studio which was where the artist spent most of his time.

Plus, the painter wasn’t a fan of sleeping unless it was with women. The room is designed to have only a tiny row of windows along the ceiling. This allowed only a small amount of light to flow inside. This meant the artist could get some sleep no matter what time of day.

The room is still laid out like it’s awaiting the return of it’s owner. Diego’s shoes are sitting on the floor as if he is about to get out of bed. Besides this, there are also his bedpans left here since his death. Atop the bedframe is Diego’s suitcase, as he was a world traveller. On the bedside table, you can also see a collection of his keychains and wallets. All the while the room is watched over by a series of papier-mache figures.

Diego’s Studio

Stepping from the hallway, make your way into the great studio. Immediately you’ll be overcome by the light that pours into theroom from the double-height windows on the north wall. From inside you can also study the effect of the saw-tooth roof windows that fill even the ceiling with light. Diego’s studio is bursting with natural energy. The trees on the other side of the windows almost look like they’re growing inside the house. The separation from indoors to outdoor is only a thin veil in here.

The studio still contains the original brushes and pigments which Rivera used to make his murals. They sit beside his easel like he is about to walk back into the room mid-painting. The painting on the easel is a portrait of Dolores Del Rio, a famous Mexican actress. Diego once said of Del Rio;

The most beautiful, the most gorgeous of the west, east, north and south. I’m in love with her as 40 million Mexicans and 120 million Americans who can’t be wrong.

Diego Rivera

Books, artisan ceramics and pottery, and little curios line the green painted shelves at the back of the room. Glass jars are silhouetted against the window panes. Inside powdered pigment still sit, waiting to be turned into paints. Diego’s studio really feels like a highly intimate space. Each one of the objects was bought by Diego as they caught his eye or gifted to him by a friend and lovingly put on display to be treasured. One of the most interesting decor found on the shelves is a copy of Diego Rivera’s death mask. Allowing him to still watche over all those and anyone who enters.

Judases

Filling the corners of the studio are these huge papier-mâché figures. Images of devils, skeletons and expressive people lean against the walls like inanimate puppets. These are called “Judases” and are popular formed of Mexican folk art. They were originally created as a part of the celebrations before Easter. The figures were made to look like the image of Judas, the Traitor. They would then take this resemblance of the great betrayer and set him on fire, to rid the world of his evil spirit. As years passed and the tradition became more popular, the figures began to take the forms of other, also unfavourable people or things. This could be anything from images of devils, demons, politicians, criminals and, in some cases, even disliked shopkeepers. Today the papier-mache dolls are stuffed with fireworks and blown up on the street. Much to the enjoyment of the onlookers.

But Rivera didn’t blow them up. Instead, he kept them as souvenirs of the local artisans. Although the simple craftsmen who made them might not have seen them as high art, Diego saw these as treasures to keep forever. Their highly expressive faces now look out over visitors from all studio corners.

Mezzanine

Walking back up the stairs, you enter the small mezzanine that looks over the studio. A small table between the two chairs is set in the corner, the perfect place to relax and watch the great painter at work. On the table is a portrait of Diego’s beloved, Frida. One can imagine this would have been where Frida herself would have stood to look down on her husband after coming over from her side of the house. Sometimes finding him hard at work…and other times, and sadly so, in the throes of passion with another woman, much to her dismay. In fact, it may have been right here that Frida discovered Diego cheating on her with her younger sister Cristina. There is no doubt that this house was a place of intensity from all angles.

The mezzanine is also home to Rivera’s office, just in the corner, beside the door to the rooftop. His green leather desk features a old phone, a typewriter and more pre-Colombian art covering the walls.

Rooftop

From the small office, you step out onto the rooftop, the neighbourhood of San Angel opening up all around you. During the Springtime, the purple flowers of the Jacaranda trees light up the skyline.

The Bridge of Diego and Frida’s Love

Although Frida and Diego had a passionate relationship, this firey love also resulted in both positive and negative intensity. When things were good, they were great, but when it was bad, it was very, very bad. So for both their sakes, having a separate working space where one could get away from the other was imperative. But the two buildings are connected by a large bridge on the top. O’Gorman named the bridge “the bridge of Diego and Frida’s love.” A symbol that, at the end of the day, they still found a way to come together and connect. Even when things were dire.

A narrow bridge connects the two buildings, the red-painted railings all you have to hold onto as you cross over. While Frida’s staircase has been closed down, too dangerous for the public to continually cross, you can imagine how the two lovers must have met up here to look out over the city and take in the night air. Even today the rest of the buildings in the area remain at a lower level to the rooftop of the Museo Casa Estudio, making you feel like you have this private oasis all to yourself.

Frida’s Studio

To get into Frida’s studio, you need to walk back down to the courtyard and enter on the ground level. Sadly, there is not much to see inside Frida’s house. Much of what once existed here has been moved to the Frida Kahlo museum in the Casa Azul. If you’re interested in learning more about the life and art of Frida Kahlo, you should definitely check it out, just over in Coyoacan. But there is one reason to go into the house: see the bathroom on the second floor. Sounds odd but stay with me!

What the Water Gave Me

This is where Frida lay when she was inspired to paint “What the Water Gave Me” in 1938. Like toys in a child’s bathtub, Frida painted the images that swam in her mind on top of the water. Memories of her life float around her; the only slice of reality is the cast iron bathtub framing the scene and her little toes sticking out of the water. The bathtub which inspired this scene can still be found in the house. If you’re a bather like me, you’ll know sitting in the bath really is where the imagination comes alive. It’s the best place to sit and think. Shower people will disagree with me I’m sure, but for me, a bath is a perfect way to relax and reflect. And it seems like Frida agrees.

The O’Gorman Guest House

The third large building on the property, located slightly below the other two homes, was the couple’s guest house. It was here that family and friends could stay in their own private apartments. But when the house was being built, it was used almost as a test for O’Gorman’s vision. To separate this house from the main studios, you’ll see another line of cacti fencing and steps leading down, surrounded by lush agave plants.

Construction on his house started in 1929, two years before the dual studio. The most impressive part of the building is the study on the first floor. Three of the four walls inside this part of the house are covered in floor-to-ceiling glass panels. And in fact, the entire glass wall opens up like a giant window. It’s pretty dangerous by today’s standards, as you can just walk right off, but what an impact it makes! The windows open up the space, and it feels like you’re floating in the air. The panels of glass are slightly more opaque on the lower four panels to give some privacy to the interior while still filling it with light.

The exterior ground level connects to the study via a wide-sweeping spiral staircase. Once more, without handrails. Looks gorgeous but can’t be very practical. A more private (and safe for visitors) internal staircase takes guests inside the private spaces which contain a small bedroom, bathroom, dining room and kitchen.

Dining Room Mural

One of the other exciting things to study here in the house is the remnants of the dining room mural that was once painted onto the walls. The mural was called “There is quite a difference between philosophy and science,” painted by O’Gorman. It depicts a stunning and vibrant Mexican landscape dotted with images of science and industry. On the left of the frame, there is an image of a fragile skeleton. This is juxtaposed with a beautiful naked Mexican woman who sits opposite. She sets aside a cup bursting with gorgous fresh fruits. The message is that one must have progress to flourish and grow. Otherwise, you will wither and die, like the old skeleton.

The fresco was only discovered in 2012 when a restoration team found traces of the original mural. When the house was sold off after Diego’s death, the mural was removed from the wall, purchased by the Banco Nacional de México for its private collection. Today you can see a photograph of the real painting beside the sketches found on the house’s walls. While I’m sure it’s well preserved in the bank’s museum, it would be more impressive to see it in situ here in the dining room. Maybe one day!

Thank you for joining us on this self-guided tour of the Museo Casa Estudio of Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo. The Museo Casa Estudio is a wonderfully immersive space to explore, and I hope this guide helped you learn more about all the secrets hidden in plain sight. Let me know in the comments what your favourite discovery was!

Happy Travels, Adventurers

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Although the area doesn’t have the draw of big tourist attractions like the Historic Centre, this is the place to come to see everyday life. A walk around this incredible neighbourhood with its gorgeous architecture, peaceful atmosphere and fantastic art and culture makes it even more extraordinary than the tourist centre! There is something so earnest about this place. So real and yet fantastically romantic. So while it might not jump out at you as a place you “need to visit,” I would absolutely say you do!

Outside of the busy market on Saturday, this neighbourhood feels almost untouched by time. Walking down the little side street and just letting curiosity lead you will bring you to the most incredible destinations. But if you’re looking for a guide to the best of what to see and do here in San Ángel, I’ve got you covered!

Table Of Contents

1. Location & Access
2. History
3. Walking Tour
4. Parque de la Bombilla
5. Restaurante El Cardenal
6. Mercado De Flores
7. Templo del Carmen de San Ángel
8. Museo de El Carmen
9. Plaza del Carmen
10. San Angel Art Market
11. Casa del Mayorazgo de Fagoaga
12. Bishop's House 
13. Plaza San Jacinto
14. Saturday Art Market
15. Handicraft Shops
16. Museo Casa del Risco
17. Antiques Fair
18. Bazaar Sábado
19. Villa San Jacinto
20. Parroquia San Jacinto
21. Plaza de Los Cielos
22. Plaza de los Arcángeles
23. Casa de Los Marqueses de Selva Nevada
24. Casa Blanca
25. Museo Casa Estudio Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo
26. San Angel Inn

Location & Access

San Ángel is located south of Mexico City, just west of the popular Coyoacán district. Pairing a visit to San Ángel with a trip to Coyoacán is the perfect way to spend an entire day. Away from the crowded city centre and up above all the hustle and bustle. I would advise getting up nice and early for your visit to San Ángel. Nothing starts the day better than brunch at restaurant El Cardenal. Plus an early start means you can get the most out of your day.

Uber

The best way to get to San Ángel is via Uber. Anywhere from the centre of the city, outside busy times of the day, it will only take about 25-30 minutes to arrive here. And generally, a ride will cost around $7 USD. Our first stop on the walking tour is in the beautiful Parque de la Bombilla, so you can put that down as your routed destination.

Metro

If you prefer to take the metro, you can arrive at Miguel Ángel de Quevedo Station. It is only a 10-minute walk from the station to our tour starting point. All metro stations in Mexico City have a different icon corresponding to their station. This was initially conceptualized to ensure that illiterate people could identify the other stations on a map.

The icon for Miguel Ángel de Quevedo is a large fruit tree. Miguel Ángel de Quevedo was a famous Mexican engineer who studied Mexican flora. He was nicked named the “tree apostle,” hence the station’s icon. But also considering this area was once rich with orchards, it also seems fitting. Just a little hint at the colonia’s history right from the get-go!

History

The neighbourhood, which is now San Ángel, was initially one of the wealthiest agricultural plots in ancient Tenochtitlan. Tenochtitlan was the capital of the great Aztec empire. Here there was an abundant source of water from the nearby Magdalena River. The area was called Tenanitla, or “walled in place,” in the Nahuatl language. The name was inspired by the volcanic rock bed that surrounded the area. It is also called Pedregal, formed by the eruption of the Xitle Volcano two thousand years ago. The volcanic bed formed a kind of wall around the land which helped retain the water from the river.

The Monasteries

When the Spanish invaded, they took the land in San Ángel for their own. It was here they established a series of monasteries. The most important of which was the San Jacinto monastery, which gave the area its first Spanish name; San Jacinto Tenanitla.

The next monastery to be built was the El Carmen monastery, built by the Carmelites in 1597. Inside the monastery, the monks opened a small school. But most of the land surrounding the church was used to plant a large expanse of orchards. The orchards flourished due to fertile soil and access to water. At one time, there were over 13,000 trees that sprouted up around the community. The school and orchards were named after San Ángel Mártir, the first members of the Order of Carmel. People would marvel at the orchards and their harvest would bring in a lot of money to the order and the area. The popularity was such that eventually, people would simply refer to the neighbourhood as San Ángel. And soon that become the de facto name for the area.

San Angel as Retreat

In the 18th century, wealthy farming families began to seek larger plots of land outside of the city center. These families began to build some of the most spectacular mansions. Many still stand today as exemplary models of 18th-century architecture in Mexico City.

In the 19th century, the orchards and many of the religious institutions of San Ángel were destroyed in the Mexican-American War. The remainder of the farming lands and orchards were removed to make room for the expanding railway system in 1891. This left the area barren of all its agricultural potential which had once defined the barrio. While the city centre was building industrial factories, San Ángel remained untouched by progress and left as a relatively rural suburb. But it was just peace and quiet that, in the 1940s made it a popular country retreat for wealthy Mexican families. These families continued to preserve the historic homes they found. And kept the area as this precious gem that we can visit today!

Walking Tour

Your experience in San Ángel will be defined by the day of the week you choose to visit. If you come to San Ángel on the weekend, especially on Saturday for the Art Market, the streets are bursting with people. Car surge into this part of town, as locals love to come here on the weekend in droves. It’s not just for the tourists, in fact, I would say the locals outweigh tourists three to one. But outside of the weekend, San Ángel is a tranquil oasis. And you’ll find you often have parts of the city all to yourself. But the peace means you’ll have to skip the popular pop-up art market. Either way, there are so many things to do here, no matter when you arrive. The only day I’d say to avoid is Mondays as all the museums are closed.

Parque de la Bombilla

The best place to start your tour of the neighbourhood is in San Ángel’s grandiose Parque de la Bombilla. Mexico City is, in my opinion, the best city in the world for public parks. Each of them brings a new surprise. Filled with beauty, drama and artistry. And Parque de La Bombilla is one that I feel doesn’t get its fair due. In the centre of the park is a giant monument to Álvaro Obregón. Álvaro Obregón was the 46th president of Mexico, inaugurated in 1920. Sadly, Obregón was assassinated in 1928 inside La Bombilla restaurant, which once stood on this very spot. After his death, the restaurant was demolished to make room for a park built in his honour. The park’s unveiling took place in 1935, on the seventh anniversary of Obregón’s assassination.

The Obregón monument dominates the park. Towering over you like a lighthouse, drawing you in. A huge reflecting pool sits just in front, allowing the sun to cast its reflection down into the water, creating a mirror-like surface. In addition to the central monument, the park also boasts seven beautiful fountains, artistic garden beds and even various chess and checkers tables awaiting their daily players.

Socialist style architecture

The Obregón Monument is a socialist-style tower. Socialist-style architecture became somewhat of a trend in Mexico City in the early 20th century. Mexico was encouraged by the Russian Revolution of 1917. They admired how the shift was leaning towards the boots on the ground workers and peasants while rejecting the bourgeoisie and upper classes. As such, they were inspired by the architecture of the Soviet Union under the leadership of Joseph Stalin. The style is characterized by rigid, geometric shapes, sturdy columns and giant statues. Often built to commemorate great leaders of the country.

Obregón Monument

The Obregón Monument greets you with two statues, guarding either side of the giant steel doorway. These are the indigenous protectors, representing “Work” and “Fertility.” The monument’s centre features a large stairwell that climbs to the top of the tower. Inside was once the resting place of Obregón’s embalmed arm. The arm was since moved, but today, a marble copy stands in its place.

On either side of the monument, are two groups of sculptures. One represents the Allegory of the Sacrifice, the other the Allegory of Triumph; two defining characteristics of Obregón’s presidency. On the back of the memorial is the sculpture of the great Eagle of Mexico City. Its wings spread in front of a series of geometric Saguaro cacti.

Restaurante El Cardenal

Hopefully, the bright colours of the park have woken you up a bit and now it’s time for breakfast! Take a stroll up along Avenue de la Paz. This street leads you right into the historic heart of San Ángel. Here you’ll shortly arrive at our breakfast spot, Restaurante El Cardenal. Restaurante El Cardenal is an institution in Mexico City with multiple different locations. The San Ángel location is their newest expansion, opening in 2011. But it quickly became the go-to destination on Saturday and Sunday mornings.

El Cardenal History

El Cardenal was founded in 1969, the original location was just across the street from the Plaza de la Constitución. The founders were a large family who wanted to bring their love of traditional Mexican cuisine to an upscale setting. They saw that many households didn’t have time to make classic home-cooked dishes. But here in El Cardenal you can come and feel like you’re dining at your mother’s table.

One of the most luxurious parts of dining inside El Cardenal in San Ángel is the gorgeous architecture. The restaurant is set inside an old colonial mansion. The building was actually previous another restaurant but when it closed the house lay dormant for years. When El Cardenal bought the property they took great pains to restore the details of the home to their former glory. The stained glass windows and gleaming wood floors make just sitting inside such a joy to experience. The back of the restaurant features a glass window box that looks into the kitchen, so you can watch the chefs hard at work!

The El Cardenal Experience

Their breakfasts are among the most popular seatings, with wait times up to 40 minutes depending on the day. So the earlier you arrive, the better. This is because huge families come here all together on the weekend for a cheerful family brunch. Despite the wait, this amazing familial atmosphere is what makes this restaurant so special. Walking inside, we were treated like absolute royalty. White-shirt waiters greeted us and catered to our every need. It felt like we were dining at a Michelin star restaurant but at a fraction of the cost! 

The Food

To start the perfect breakfast, begin with hot chocolate, not coffee! Their unique hot chocolate is made with famous Doña Oliva chocolate and is like drinking a cup of history. Hot chocolate originated in Mexico and was an essential part of the Aztec culture from 1400 AD.

My favourite part about the experience of eating here was the pastry tray. When you come inside a waiter brings you over an enormous tray of sweet pastries. And you can choose, with your own eyes, which pastry you’d want to start off the meal right with. I went with the concha as I feel like it’s the perfect pairing with a hot chocolate.

Another traditional breakfast dish you’ll only find in Mexico is the Egg omelette with escamoles. Escamoles are colloquially called “Mexican caviar,” and are edible ant larvae. Escamoles have been consumed in Mexico since the age of the Aztecs and are high in nutritional value. It’s definitely one of the most unique and classic dishes on the menu. But if that’s not your thing they have many other traditional options for those who aren’t that adventurous.

While you might take a look at this elegant restaurant would be pretty pricey, El Cardenal is such a good value. They really price themselves as a family restaurant. Although there were some tourists here it was clear that most people gather here every week. And with food as good and cheap as this, I know why they do!

Mercado De Flores

To work off some of the big breakfast, walk down the street and turn north up Avenue Revolución towards the famous San Ángel Flower Market. This market dates back to the time of the Carmelite friars. When they lived in the area, their church was surrounded by extensive gardens. Here they grew fruit trees and flowers in large quantities.

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Walking up to the market, you can spot it from down the street, not only by the iconic white awnings but also by the brightly painted murals along the exterior. Public murals like this were famous in markets like this around Mexico City. Vendors are packed tightly along the thin strip of the sidewalk facing the Avenida Revolucion. In their white plastic buckets are a wide array of vibrant flowers for locals to bring home to their sweethearts with a smile.

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Templo del Carmen de San Ángel

After peaking around at the flowers in the market, head back south along Avenue Revolución. Crossing Avenue de la Paz, lead yourself towards the large domes that dominate the skyline guiding you into the old Carmelite Church of San Ángel. 

Courtyard

While most people go directly to the Museum of El Carmen, checking out the church itself is more than worth your time. Even just walking through the old stone walls into the quaint courtyard gives you so many things to look at and ponder. The church courtyard is home to one of the most amazing jacaranda trees. Hidden behind the stone walls it feels like a treasure that we found was all to ourselves! It hangs heavy over the fountain in the centre of the stone yard. Its branches also frame the gorgeous tiled domes off in the background.

History of the St. Carmen Church of San Ángel

The church was originally built in 1615 by the Carmelite friar Andrés de San Miguel. It took over 10 years to complete, and when it opened it housed the order of the Barefoot Carmelites. It was originally opened as a monastery but they also built a college nearby. Here they welcomed theology students and new priests of the order. The church flourished for years and its orchards formed the bedrock of the colonial we find today. Bringing both money and interest to this part of town.

After the Mexican Reformation War of 1858, the new secular governmental powers closed down many Catholic churches and schools. The area around San Ángel was occupied by US troops who sadly destroyed many parts of the old buildings. As well as looting many of the church’s precious assets. They even went so far as to destroy the beloved orchards.

The old school building went on to serve as a prison, barracks and even the location of the local town council. Eventually, in 1921, the church school was transformed into a museum. It was here they sought to preserve the history of the building, the treasure found hidden within and the stories from the neighbourhood’s past. But the actual church itself has stood here, in almost the exact same state, for hundreds of years. And walking inside feels like stepping back in time.

Architecture

The design of the church was made in Herrerian style. Herrerian style rose in popularity in Spain during the 16th century and came to Mexico City with the Spanish colonizers. The style features a more restrained use of ornamentation compared to other baroque styles of the time. The shape of the building is designed to spread horizontally and symmetrically. And yet unlike many other Herrerian buildings which have flat or plain roofs, the St. Carmen de San Ángel church features three incredible tiled domes. Brilliant blue and yellow-painted tiles from Puebla still glisten in the sunlight although much of the roofs have fallen into disrepair over the ages.

Walking into the church, the restrained architecture that surrounds you highlights the incredible golden altar. Light frames the altar from either side creating the most ethereal glow. While the rest of the building might be simpler in design, the altarpiece is pure baroque. Drama, glamour and gilding are everything that the baroque era brought and we can see it here in leaps and spurts!

One of my favourite parts about the churches in Mexico is the tile work. Every little side chapel or tiny niche is given the royal treatment by plastering them with gorgeous tiles. These minature tiles look like shining gems when the sunlight hits them just right. While some are just decorative others are painted to tell stories about the saints in whose chapels they sit. These tiles truly make Mexican churches feel so unique and gives you a sense of place when visiting.

Museo de El Carmen

Just outside the entrance to the church, you can find the Museo de El Carmen. The old monastery school and cloisters were transformed into a museum in the 1920s. Inside, the museum houses various objects that detail the history of the Carmelite order. When you enter through the lower cloisters you’re greeted by a small series of panels detailing the complete history of the convent and school. Throughout the rest of the museum, these histories are brought to life through a series of paintings, documents, sculptures and even the furniture which was used inside the monastery.

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As well as detailing life in the monastery, these historical paintings also depict what life was like in San Ángel in the 18th and 19th centuries. It features an amazing collection of Colonial religious art. The baroque artist Cristóbal de Villalpando has many paintings here on display. He is most famous for his painting which now hangs in the Metropolitan Cathedral. But inside this more intimate museum, you can view his pieces close up and see them in a more personal light.

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The Crypt

One of the most interesting, or for some, macabre parts of the museum is the old crypts. When the monastery was a working church, many people would pay to be buried in such a holy place. These were both members of the Carmelite Order as well as wealthy benefactors.

But over the years, and after the fall of the religious institutions, many of these bodies were forgotten. Only in the 20th century were they uncovered during the monastery’s restoration. The bodies left here were miraculously preserved because of the rich soil by which they were surrounded. They were essentially mummified. With no one to claim the bodies, the museum decided to leave them where they rested, and now visitors can give view their wrinkled flesh up close and personal. Preserved for the ages inside their velvet-lined wooden and glass caskets.

Hours & Admission: 52 pesos | Free on Sundays, closed on Mondays

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Plaza del Carmen

Head back to the main intersection at Madero and the Avenue de la Revolution to cross over to Plaza del Carmen. The brilliant-coloured buildings that surround the square blend in amongst the vibrant flowers in the garden beds in the middle of the plaza. While the Plaza de Jacinto might be the larger and most popular square in the city, Plaza del Carmen is by far my favourite. Its quaint and cramped quarters are so joyful, with locals sitting out on the benches, chatting with friends, in the early morning. Watching the artists set up their canvases as the sun rises.

San Angel Art Market

On Saturdays, this is where the start of the San Ángel art market can be found. One of the most wonderful things about the San Ángel art market is not just for tourists. Unlike some more touristy markets around the city, this market is meant for the locals. And many people come here, from far and wide, in search of the perfect art piece for their home. The atmosphere is intoxicating, everyone admiring the newest art pieces from their favourite local painters. Rainbow-coloured umbrellas dot the skyline, protecting fresh paint from the harsh rays of the sun.

Architecture around Plaza El Carmen

Even if you don’t come on a weekend, this small Plaza is a wonder to behold. It is surrounded on all sides by incredible historical buildings, important to the neighbourhood’s history. Even in just this one square, you can get a slice of the wonderfully preserved architecture that makes this neighbourhood such a gem to visit. Examples of baroque, neoclassical and neocolonial houses can be found right here. And many have been perfectly preserved since this part of town managed to escape the urbanization of the city’s centre.

House of Chucho el Roto

To the southeast, you’ll see a brilliant yellow building with bright red trim on the corner. This is the old House of Chucho el Roto or House of The Two Courtyards. This building is a wonderful example of Mexican neoclassical styles popular during the Protofio Diaz era. The house was named because it was designed with two courtyards, a lavish expense at this time. The main courtyard was built to entertain and house splendid gardens. The secondary courtyard where the carriages and stables were placed. This allowed the home to separate the working part of the house from the relaxing retreat these country homes aimed to create.

Chucho el Roto

The house was built in the 19th century for the philanthropist Francisco de Urquiaga. A popular legend about this home states that it was the hiding place for the famous bandit Jesús Arriaga. Arriaga was also nicknamed “Chucho el Roto,” hence the other name for the house. Arriaga was somewhat of a Robin Hood-type character, robbing from the wealthy and giving to the poor. This house was reported to be connected to the underground tunnels built by the Dominicans. The tunnels could be accessed through the basement and led to the nearby Plaza San Jacinto. Making it a perfect getaway for a legendary bandit.

Sadly, Arriaga was eventually captured and died in prison. But his legend lived on long past his death. And fictional stories became even more popular after his passing. Today it houses the Library of the Revolutions of Mexico. Very apt, considering it was the hideout of this legendary anti-establishment character who would have been a staunch supporter of the revolutions.

Mercado del Carmen

On the north side of the Plaza sits the popular Mercado del Carmen. This hip communal-style eatery and art gallery are housed in an old mansion dating back to the 18th century. It was also used as an English school for the upper classes of San Agnel during the 1960s and 70s. The gorgeous blue of the house blends in almost perfectly with the sky on a clear day, making it feel at one with heaven above.

Casa del Mayorazgo de Fagoaga

On the northwest corner of the plaza, along Calle de la Amargura is the Casa del Mayorazgo de Fagoaga. The brilliant burnt orange exteriors and 18-century facade welcome you onto one of the most luxurious streets in the city. It was designed in the neoclassical style with baroque-style balconies.

The home was originally built for Francisco de Fagoaga, the head of a powerful silver and gold merchant. His family was one of the first to start the trend of moving their mansions out of the central city and into the countryside. His house set the tone for other wealthy haciendas built in the era and unsurprisingly lots of future houses follow the same template. It was truly a trendsetter. The orange contrasts so well with the dense green foliage and pink flowers that bloom across the facade.

Bishop’s House 

Continue along Calle de la Amargura towards the end of the street, blocked by the corner of the old Bishop of Tenagra’s mansion. Joaquín Fernández de Madrid y Canal served as the Bishop’s adobe here in San Ángel. A Bishop was a highly regarded figure in the community. As such, the friars wanted to build a house that would impress! His house was built in 1631 (!) and is one of the best-preserved pieces of history in San Ángel. Long after the revolution, the house still stood as a well sought-after real estate piece. It was home to various famous Mexican like poet José Zorrilla, historian José María Agreda and politician and general Antonio López de Santa Anna. Today, the house serves as an art gallery hosting rotating exhibitions featuring incredible Mexican artists.

Plaza San Jacinto

Turn south past the Plaza Tenanitla (dedicated to the original name of the colonial) and make your way into the grand Plaza San Jacinto. The Plaza was named the Church of San Jacinto, located just on the west side of the square. But we’ll learn more about the church later when you go inside. The little town square popped up here as it was surrounded on all sides by the church, convent and orphanage. It quickly became the heart of the community in the 18th century and continues on as such today!

 St. Patrick Battalion

On the far west side of the Plaza, on the wall opposite, you’ll see a large plaque dedicated to the St. Patrick Battalion. “Why is there a dedication to Irish soldiers in Mexico City?” you might be wondering. In 1847, during the Mexican War for independence, Irish, German and even American immigrants came over to Mexico. They wanted to help fight for Mexico’s freedom, against the United States. The battalion was one of the fiercest and responsible for a huge majority of the deaths on the American side. So when they were caught, their punishments were brutal. They were executed right here in San Jacinto square, in front of the famous church. But their legend lives in on this plaque stands in their honour. The memory of their fighting vigour an inspiration to others who would continue the fight and win the freedom of the nation.

Diego Rivera

Make your way to the centre of the Plaza and look across the elegant central fountain. There, you will see a bronze easel with the burst of Diego Rivera emblazoned into the cartouche. As Rivera was a resident of the San Angel for many years, local artists inspired by Rivera wanted to commemorate him for generations to come. There is something wonderful about Rivera’s face looking over at the artists in the square selling their works in the square. Continuing his passion for supporting Mexican artists, even from the great beyond.

Saturday Art Market

By far the most popular thing to see in the square is to peruse the incredible Saturday Art Market. The market was established here in the 1960s. Interestingly enough, the origins of the market were due to an American, Jim Tillet, who had moved to Mexico City. He brought the concept of a weekly artisan fair to Mexico City, and the idea immediately took off. The art is both meant for the locals to enjoy as well as the tourists, highlighting the beauty of the Mexican landscape and vibrant culture. There were so many amazing artists of all different styles and mediums. My favourites were the ones that were designed to look like Lotería cards.

In addition to paintings, this Plaza is also home to craftspeople. Here you can find artisan pottery, textiles and even clothing. While some of it is a bit touristy things there are also really unique designers and artists. Prices tend to be a little more expensive here in San Angel but the quality is there to match.

There are often musicians strolling around through the market, entertaining the crowds and creating a more inviting and charming atmosphere. Street food vendors pop up selling sweet treats and salty snacks to satisfy your cravings. Art hunting is hungry work!

Handicraft Shops

If you opt to visit San Angel outside of the weekend, you can still find lots of different handicraft shops open around the square throughout the week. Shops like the Bazar San Ángel, María Bonita and Local México all sell gorgeous handmade decor and art pieces for your home. The spirit of the art market lives on long past the weekend so don’t feel like you’ll have missed it all if you can only visit during the week.

Museo Casa del Risco

On the north side of the Plaza Jacinto, hidden behind the opulent trees, is an old terra-cotta-coloured building with ‘Museo Casa del Risco‘ emblazoned in brass along the fence. Inside you’ll find an old residence dating back to the 17th-century that has since been transformed into a museum. The museum recreates the look of a traditional San Angel house as it would have looked in the 18th century. Casa del Risco has a fascinating history as it served as a residence, a military barracks and a hospital.

Fuente del Risco

The house’s main feature that people come to see is the great porcelain fountain. The fountain, or “Fuente del Risco,” is located inside the main central courtyard. It was made in the late 18th century in the opulent Baroque or “ultra baroque” style popular in Mexico City during that period.

While it looks like it is merely decorative, the fountain’s design was actually an ingenious way to preserve broken porcelain. Back then, painted porcelains were extremely expensive and yet, just like today, accidents happen and you might end up breaking a plate that costs more than a used car does today. Turning them into an art sculpture like this was a way to preserve and display even the broken pieces.

Embedded within the fountain you can spot Chinese blue and white porcelain, plates from the Ming Dynasty, green porcelain from Japan, Spanish Talavera ceramics and, of course, the homegrown ceramics of Puebla. Entire bowls, plates, cups and sauces are also scattered together with broken pieces of pottery to create this magical-looking fountain. The niches are designed to look like pearlescent shells and conches and the piece is dotted with mermaid sculptures. Even here in the hill of San Angel do we find people dreaming of the ocean.

There is so much else to see inside the museum, from Baroque art, religious sculptures, antique stained glass and recreations of 18th-century living space. But if all you want to see is the fountains, it’s easy to do so as admission to the museum is free.

Admission: Free | Open Tuesday-Sunday 10 am – 5 pm

Antiques Fair

On the weekends, just outside the museum, you’ll find high-end vintage and antique sellers bringing out their wares. This was almost as incredible as the museum itself, it felt like just outside you could literally buy items you’d just seen inside the museum. Paintings from the 19th century, religious objects and gorgeous pieces of antique jewellery. The prices are pretty high but even I was almost swayed into buying a locket from 1898! There are some real treasures so if you have the money to spend you’ll discover some amazing pieces in this marketplace.

Bazaar Sábado

If you don’t like sifting through the pop-up stands outside in the plaza, you can head into the Bazaar Sábado. The Bazaar Sábado is located inside a 17th-century red-painted mansion and dates back to the 1960s. Here you can find the giant home filled with over 100 permanent artisan shops selling everything from textiles to jewellery, ceramics and metalwork. Many of these craftspeople are award winners, so their prices are going to reflect that status, but the work is unparalleled. Personally, I prefer the stuff found on the street, but if you’re looking for something more upmarket, this is the place for you.

Inside the central open-air courtyard is a wonderful eatery serving up traditional breakfast and lunch street food. It can get pretty busy right at 12 pm but if you prefer to eat a bit early or late you’ll find more tables open. The food here is wonderful and a great place to try some amazing street food like Tlacoyos, quesadillas and gorditas.

Villa San Jacinto

If the Bazaar Sabado courtyard is too busy you can hop across the Plaza and make your way to the stunning courtyards of the Villa San Jacinto. This 19th-century house has been preserved and transformed to be enjoyed by present-day visitors. The Cafe de las Artes is a gorgeous little eatery inspired by the architecture of the Porfiriato era. Walking up the stairs, you are greeted by this incredible grisaille style stained glass window, bohemian lamps and the Catalan vaults.

You can also study the amazing remodelled garden filled with beautiful sculptures. The cafe sells lots of different drinks and has homemade desserts and sandwiches if you’re feeling a bit peckish. Sitting outside you can get pretty hot but is a beautiful place to admire the rotating selection of art work on display.

Parroquia San Jacinto

Heading back onto Calle Benito Juárez, walk just a few meters where you’ll find an unassuming set of stairs which leads you into the green oasis outside of the Parroquia San Jacinto. The Parroquia San Jacinto or San Jacinto Parish was founded by the Dominicans in 1564. The Dominican order had discovered a small waterfall nearby and utilized the water to power their spinning and weaving equipment. This allowed them to produce lots of different kinds of textiles. They sold them off and used the funds to fund the building of the church and the plush gardens.

Walking inside the church, the thing that immediately catches your eyes is the ornate churrigueresco-style altar. The rest of the interior of the church is pretty austere but there is something so charming about the simplicity. Be sure to poke your head around the cloisters inside the church. This is the perfect place to escape the sun for a minute and walk through the shaded walkways and central fountain.

The Garden

The contrast between the rather subdued building and the incredibly bright colours of the gardens is a wonderful pairing. In the centre of the garden is a fountain with a huge cross in the centre. This was the first cross ever carved in Mexico. Looking closely at it you can see elements from both the Christian and Pagan faiths.

Surrounding the church are cedars, eucalyptus and pine trees. I always feel like this little hidden away yard is most reminiscent of the old orchards of San Angel.

Plaza de Los Cielos

Walking back outside, take a stroll down the Calle Benito Juárez towards the Plaza de los Cielos. This little corner is a gem of the colonial-era architecture that remains in this neighbourhood. Beautifully decorated in ancient jacaranda and vibrant bougainvilleas pour over the stone walls. The little Plaza de Los Cielos is surrounded on the two sides by the old walls of the former monastery.

Plaza de los Arcángeles

Continue north along Árbol street, turning left on Segunda Cda. de Frontera, where you’ll discover one of the most peaceful yet stunning streets anywhere in Mexico City. The walls here are covered in foliages, and when they bloom in bright purple and blue, it feels like walking through a tunnel of flowers.

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At the end of the street, you’ll find the secret Plaza de Los Arcángeles. A nook tucked into the neighbourhood’s corner features a series of benches under a series of stone arches. In the centre of the small gardenette is a shrine to the Virgin of Guadalupe tucked inside the hole of a tree. The name of the Plaza comes from three large sandstone benches named after the Archangels; Gabriel, Rafael and Michael. It’s a fantastically peaceful place and well worth the three-minute detour!

Casa de Los Marqueses de Selva Nevada

Walk back up Arbol and west along with Calle Hidalgo. On the northwest corner is one of the more historic homes of San Angel. Casa de los marqueses de Selva Nevada was owned by Ana Ortiz de Móxica in the end of the 18th century. It would later go on to the owned by María Josefa Rodríguez de Pinillos, the ambassador of Austria-Hungary in Mexico. Maria is responsible for the majority of the renovations we can see today. One of the most impressive parts of the building is the gorgeous wooden gates set between the beautiful white painted trim and ochre-coloured exterior. The door was designed with traditional elements of Mudejar decoration.

Casa Blanca

Continue along the Calle Hidalgo until you reach the large white house at #43. This is called the Casa Blanca, or “white house,” a 17th-century hacienda owned by the Oploca counts. Look closely at the coat of arms above the door to see the design of this family’s old shield. During its life in San Angel, the house was once home to the second-largest orchard in the neighbourhood. All hidden away behind the beautiful parapets of the white house. A small plaque on the front of the house honoured it as a place of historical significance. During the Second Franco-Mexican War, this house served as a bunker for French and American soldiers.

Legen of the Casa Blanca

But the most significant thing about this house is the legend that goes along with it. If you walk slightly further away from the front door, you’ll see a large wrought iron balcony towards the back of the house. The story goes that the woman who once lived here had the love of her life go off to war. She watched him leave from this balcony and would return to it every day, waiting for his return. But he never would come home, and she died an old woman, standing on the balcony, heartbroken. Eternally waiting for her true love to come home. Her ghost is said to still haunt the upper balcony so keep your eyes peeled for her wailing cries.

Licenciado | Leandro Valle

Continue down Hidalgo until you reach Licenciado street and walk north. This is another fantastic example of just how amazing even the ordinary homes in this neighbourhood are. Walls are dripping in ivy and each new facade is painted in a different vibrant colour. Rich wooden doorways and fantastical wrought iron gates protect entry from the street into the secretive homes inside.

Although there might not be any specific historical sights here, these are the streets that make visiting a neighbourhood like San Angel so worth it! The road curves to the right and turns into Leandro Valle. Eventually, popping you outright outside Avenue Altavista. Bringin you to the front steps of the famous Casa Estudio Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo.

Museo Casa Estudio Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo

Standing from across the street is the best way to introduce yourself to this famous home. You can see the red and white building on the right, which served as Diego Rivera‘s studio contrasted by the bright periwinkle painted studio for Frida Kahlo. The two homes are connected via the large walkway on the top floor. The entire design of the homes is symbolic of their love. Two very different artists and lovers that are yet forever connected. This was Rivera’s dream home that he had commissioned by architect and friend Juan O’Gorman. O’Gorman is well known for many different famous buildings in Mexico City including the incredible designs inside the UNAM campus.

The museum leads you through both houses to see their studios, living spaces and a gorgeous rooftop view across the neighbourhood of San Angel. To get a complete guided tour of the Museo Casa Estudio Diego Rivera and Frida Kahlo you can read our full guide here.

San Angel Inn

To end your day in San Angel, head back across the street and to the historic San Angel Inn. In my honest opinion, the food isn’t the best here. It was probably one of the most disappointing meals I’ve had in Mexico City. And for what you get, it’s overpriced. But that being said, nothing can compete with this restaurant’s history, decor, and architecture.

My recommendation is to arrive before or after their lunch or dinner rush. And opt for only a drink and perhaps a dessert or snack. This way you can still enjoy the incredible environments but don’t need to worry about spending too much on subpar food. Plus, our margaritas were some of the best we’ve ever had so there are some definite gems to be found!

History

The best way to describe this place is an institution. The building itself dates back to 1616! It was originally the Our Lady of Santa Ana Monastery, built by Hernando Aragonés. Surrounding the monastery was a series of superb orchards and rich agave gardens. They produced a large amount of pulque here over the years, an iconic drink found only in Mexico. Despite changing hands many times over the years, much of the original gardens have been preserved to enjoy today.

History of San Angel Inn

In 1777, the old monastery was purchased by Ramon Goicoechea, who converted it into his family mansion. The hotel was also owned by musician Carlos Prieto who hosted classical music concerts inside. Even today, this tradition continues with live music played throughout the restaurant. Many years later, in 1908, the property was transformed into a large hotel and restaurant. The new owners sold off the excess land, which turned into the neighbourhood of Altavista. The huge mansion was divided up to make all different spaces, from guest rooms to the various restaurants and event spaces we can visit today.

Walking through the hallways, courtyards, and different rooms feels like being inside a living museum. The walls are covered in artworks collected by all the different owners who called this place home over the years. Famously, this restaurant was so popular that it was even notable for hosting various Mexican revolutionaries from Emiliano Zapata to Pancho Villa and Zapata. They were even seen singing a unity pact right here in the restaurant!

This brings us to the end of this incredible tour of San Angel. I hope you’ve enjoyed the sights we’ve seen along the way. Let me know in the comments which stop was your favourite or other treasures you’ve discovered along the way!

Happy Travels, Adventurers

The post The Ultimate Guide to the Artistic and Creative Corners of San Angel, Mexico City Walking Tour first appeared on The Creative Adventurer.