La rotonda dels transports (1966)

Barcelona is a city that wears its heart on its sleeve, but its guts are a different story. If you want to see the real machinery of the place, you have to go down. Not to the fancy wine cellars or the Roman ruins, but into the humid, ozone-scented belly of the Plaça Catalunya transit hub. There, in a circular lobby that feels like the bridge of a 1960s starship, sits 'La rotonda dels transports.'

Commissioned in 1966 and inaugurated in 1969, this isn't just a wall decoration; it’s a six-panel ceramic manifesto on how we get from point A to point B. Created by the heavy hitters of the Escola Massana—specifically Francesc Albors and Manuel del Río—it’s a sprawling work of gres (stoneware) that captures the frantic, optimistic energy of the mid-century. The Escola Massana, Barcelona's legendary school of art and design, didn't just teach technique; they taught how to weave the city’s identity into the very walls of its infrastructure, using the grit of the earth to tell the story of the future. While the world above was arguing about politics, these artists were down here firing clay to celebrate the steam engine, the hot air balloon, and the clunky, beautiful ancestors of the modern automobile.

Walking into the 'rotonda' (the circular lobby connecting the Metro L1 and L3 with the FGC lines) is a collision of noise and motion. You’ve got the screech of trains, the frantic clicking of turnstiles, and the relentless tide of people who are late for something important. In the middle of this chaos, the mural stands still. It’s a series of panels, some stretching over six meters, depicting everything from primitive flying machines to early submarines. The style is quintessentially 1960s—angular, slightly abstract, and deeply industrial. The textures of the stoneware are tactile and rough, a deliberate choice by Albors and del Río to contrast with the sleek, metallic surfaces of the trains themselves. It’s the kind of art that believed technology would save us before we realized it might just make us more efficient at being stressed.

For decades, this mural was the city’s most ignored resident. It gathered the grime of a million commutes, its textures muted by dust and neglect. But in 2018, a major restoration project brought the 'Rotonda' back to life. The brass elements gleam again, the lighting has been restored to its original 1960s warmth, and the ceramic tiles pop with the intensity of a freshly fired kiln. It’s a reminder that even in the most utilitarian spaces—the places where we just want to get through as fast as possible—there is room for something human, something that demands we slow down even when the schedule says otherwise.

Is it an essential stop in the traditional sense? Probably not if you’re only here for three days and want to tick off the Gaudí boxes. But if you give a damn about the soul of a city, about the art that lives where the people actually live (and sweat, and run), then it’s vital. It’s one of the best things to do in Ciutat Vella if you want to escape the sun and the selfie sticks for ten minutes. Stand there for a moment. Watch the commuters blur past the ceramic steamships. It’s a visceral reminder that we’re all just moving through, part of a long, clattering history of transport that started with a wheel and ended up here, in the dark, under the heart of Barcelona.