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La Boqueria

If there was ever a place for which I am homesick before I set my eyes on it, that would be La Boqueria Mercat alongside Las Ramblas.  Some may say such a thing is impossible, you cannot fall in love with someone that you haven’t met.  But I have met this market before, I grew up in one very akin to it.  My parents were fabric merchants at Sài Gòn’s Bến Thành market.  Precious childhood memories were instinctively crafted alongside similar display stands exploding in colors and flavors.
So it was no strange surprise when La Boqueria recognized me and consumed me.  And I was happy to be lost in its wondrous senses and secrets, the kind that take on the miraculous task of taming that signature Barcelona rhythm, break the hours and minutes into lasciviously languid passages, so that time travels at the speed of hallucinatory memories, intensified and deliberate, and yet tragically too quick at the same time.