"El Monte Carmelo is a hill and arid desnuda located northwest of the city. Manejados the invisible hands of child expertas hilo afraid to be sold Menudo cometas of bright colors in the blue sky, wind and asomando estremecidas by the enzyme for the summit as escudos to announce a Dream Warrior.
In the gray postwar years, when on an empty stomach and the cassava green each day demanded a dream to make reality more bearable, Mount Caramel was beloved and fabulous adventures of the field of children desarropados neighborhoods of Casa Baró, and Guinardó Health. Rose to the top, where the wind whistles, comets rough launch homemade pasta made with flour, rods, rags and newspaper: long collection was furious at the city sky photos and news of the German advance in fronts of Europe, cities in ruins and black fungus on Hiroshima, there was death and desolation, the weekly ration English, misery and hunger. Today, in the summer of 1956, Caramel kites have no news or photos, or are made with newspapers, but with fine tissue paper purchased at a store and its colors are garish, shocking. But despite this improved in appearance, many are still homemade, the frame is heavy crude, rising with difficulty remains the standard fighter of the neighborhood.
Hill stands next to Park Guell, where the green foliage and architectural fantasies of fairy tales is skeptical over his shoulder, and a string of Turó Rubira, lived on its slopes, and the Bald Mountain. For over half a century longer a lonely island in the suburbs. Before the war, the neighborhood and Guinardó consisted of towers and ground floor houses: they were still a retreat for some advantaged middle-class merchants Barcelona, \u200b\u200bpeacocks false step which traces are still in an old villa or dilapidated garden. But they were. Who knows if the refugees get to see stars and gypsy-forties, panting like wrecks, burnt the skin not only by the merciless sun of a lost war, but also for a lifetime of failure, had finally Awareness National wreck, flooded the island forever, of paradise lost that Mount Caramel was to be in the next few years. Because very soon the tide of the city also reached its southern slope, slowly circled the hillsides and continued their march to the north and extending west to the Valley of Hebron and the Penitentes. Stepped on her lap like an amphitheater grows dark green grass, dotted here and there by bright yellow spots broom. A paved snake, pale to the harsh light of dawn, black and hot and smelly in the evening, clearing the side entrance of Park Güell Sanllehy coming from the square and up the eastern slope of a ravine full of miserable old carob trees and orchards in barracks to reach the miserable houses the neighborhood: there flushed his broad head and hisses and pops come unpaved streets, twisted, dusty, some still seek to climb higher while others fall, firing in all directions, they rush to the plain in the northern flank in Horta and Montbau address. In addition to the old houses and some other newer, built in the forties, when land was cheap, unpainted iron balconies, internal galleries rusty sensitive chaired by a fictitious floral environment, where women are watering and plants growing in bottomless wooden crates and girls who tend the laundry with a clip and a song from the teeth. At the foot of the stairs the chapel of the Carmelites is a public fountain in a pool where children splash barefoot: Purple Rose Mercurochrome in sunny pimples nerve in knee grimaces in Olivaceous faces of flat noses, high cheekbones and eyelids Asian tenderness. Above, dust, wind, aridity. "
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