Posidó

Montjuïc is a hill of contradictions. On one side, you’ve got the polished, museum-heavy spectacle of the MNAC and the Magic Fountain, where the tourist-industrial complex operates at peak efficiency. But keep climbing, past the bus tours and the selfie sticks, and you hit the Jardins de Joan Brossa. This is where things get interesting. This patch of land used to be the Parc d’Atraccions de Montjuïc, a place of screaming kids, greasy cotton candy, and the mechanical clatter of rollercoasters that ran from the mid-sixties until the late nineties. When the park died in 1998, the city did what cities do: they turned it into a park. They tore down the rides but, for some reason, they left a few of the statues behind.

Standing among the Mediterranean pines and the quiet, winding paths is Posidó—Poseidon, the god of the sea, rendered in bronze by Feliciano Hernández in 1972. This isn't the majestic, bearded deity you see in neoclassical fountains, surrounded by frolicking dolphins and marble nymphs. This Posidó is jagged, abstract, and looks like he’s been through a fight he didn't quite win. He’s rising out of the earth rather than the ocean, a dark, metallic figure that feels more like a survivor of a shipwreck than the ruler of the waves.

The current rating for this spot sits at a dismal 2.9, and honestly, that’s exactly why you should go. In a city that is increasingly being buffed and polished for mass consumption, a 2.9 rating is a badge of honor. It means there’s no gift shop. There’s no overpriced café selling lukewarm espresso. There’s no 'immersive experience' with VR goggles. It’s just a piece of art in a public garden that most people stumble upon by accident while looking for the cable car. It’s a place for the quiet, the contemplative, and those who find beauty in the slightly neglected corners of the world.

Walking through the Jardins de Joan Brossa feels like walking through a memory. You can still see the footprints of the old amusement park if you look closely enough—the way the paths are laid out, the sudden clearings where a carousel once spun. Posidó stands there as a sentinel of that transition. He’s a reminder that everything eventually gets reclaimed by the dirt or the rust. The sculpture itself is a masterclass in texture; the bronze is rough, catching the light in ways that make the god look almost organic, like a piece of driftwood that’s been charred and twisted.

Is it worth the hike? If you’re looking for a 'must-see' landmark to tick off your list, probably not. But if you want to understand the soul of Barcelona—the parts that aren't for sale—then yes. It’s one of the best things to do in Montjuïc if you value silence over spectacle. You stand there, looking at this bronze god, with the smell of pine needles in the air and the distant hum of the port below, and you realize that this is the real Barcelona. It’s a city that remembers its past, even the parts that have been decommissioned and turned into gardens. Grab a bottle of cheap red wine, find a bench near the god of the sea, and watch the sun dip behind the castle. It’s honest, it’s free, and it’s a hell of a lot better than standing in line for a church you’ve already seen on a postcard.