Parc de la Plaça del Fòrum

If you’re looking for manicured rose bushes and quaint gravel paths where you can feed pigeons, turn around and go back to the Ciutadella. The Parc de la Plaça del Fòrum isn’t that kind of park. It’s a vast, unapologetic expanse of concrete and steel, a 14-hectare slab of urban ambition that feels like the flight deck of an aircraft carrier docked at the edge of the Mediterranean. Built for the 2004 Universal Forum of Cultures, this place is a polarizing piece of Barcelona’s soul—a brutalist playground that some call a white elephant and others call a masterpiece of modern design.

When you arrive at this end of the Diagonal, the first thing that hits you isn’t the smell of flowers, but the salt air and the sheer scale of the thing. Dominating the skyline is the Pérgola Fotovoltaica, a massive, tilted solar panel that looks like a fallen monolith from a more advanced civilization. It’s the size of a football pitch, suspended in the air, casting long, geometric shadows across the pavement. Standing under it, you feel small, which is exactly what good architecture should do. It’s one of the most photographed things to do in Sant Martí, but photos don’t capture the way the wind whistles through the structure on a blustery day.

This isn't just a place to stare at concrete. It’s home to the Museu de Ciències Naturals de Barcelona, housed in the striking blue triangular building designed by Herzog & de Meuron. It’s a low-slung, brooding structure that seems to float above the ground. Inside, it’s a deep dive into the natural world, but the building itself is the real specimen. If you’re wondering if Parc del Fòrum is worth visiting, the answer depends on your tolerance for the industrial. If you appreciate the intersection of the city and the sea without the filter of palm trees and sand, this is your spot.

Down by the water, you’ll find the Zona de Banys. Forget the crowded, tourist-choked sands of Barceloneta. Here, the 'beach' is a series of concrete tiers leading directly into the deep blue. It’s a saltwater swimming pool carved out of the sea, where locals come to do laps or bake on the hot stone. There’s no sand in your shoes, no chiringuitos blasting bad house music—just you, the sun, and the water. It’s honest. It’s functional. It’s very Barcelona.

Of course, most people know this place as the heart of Barcelona’s festival circuit. When Primavera Sound or Cruïlla rolls into town, this concrete desert transforms into a pilgrimage site for thousands of music fans. There is something visceral about watching a band play as the sun sets over the Mediterranean, the industrial cranes of the nearby port framing the stage. It’s loud, it’s crowded, and it’s magnificent.

Is it flawed? Absolutely. On a mid-August afternoon, the heat reflecting off the pavement can feel like a physical assault. There’s precious little shade once you move away from the museum or the solar panel. It can feel lonely when there’s no event happening, a ghost town of 21st-century planning. But that’s the charm. It’s a break from the theme-park feel of the Gothic Quarter. It’s a place where you can breathe, where the horizon is wide, and where the city finally stops trying to sell you a postcard version of itself. It’s the best park in Barcelona for people who hate traditional parks.