Hotel Barcelona Princess

At the very end of Avinguda Diagonal, where the city’s rigid grid finally loses its nerve and dissolves into the Mediterranean, stands the Hotel Barcelona Princess. It’s a two-towered glass shard designed by Oscar Tusquets, a building that looks like it was dropped from a great height and stuck firmly into the Catalan soil. This isn't the Barcelona of crumbling Gothic stone or narrow, urine-scented alleys. This is the new Barcelona—wide, windy, sterile, and unapologetically modern. If you’re looking for 'soul' in the traditional sense, you’re in the wrong neighborhood. But if you want to see where the city is going, rather than where it’s been, pull up a chair.

Walking into the lobby, you’re greeted by the hum of high-efficiency air conditioning and the purposeful stride of people who have very important meetings at the CCIB across the street. It’s a business hotel, sure, but it’s one that understands the value of a distraction. The rooms are clean, minimalist, and dominated by floor-to-ceiling glass. If you’re lucky enough to be on a high floor, the view is the only decor you need. You’re looking out over the Forum, the sprawling concrete playground of Primavera Sound, and the deep blue of the sea. There’s a certain honesty in the design—no fake rustic charms, just metal, glass, and the relentless light of the coast.

One of the few genuine surprises here is the minibar. In a world where most hotels charge you the price of a decent lunch for a lukewarm bottle of water, the Princess gives it away. Water and soft drinks are replenished daily, free of charge. It’s a small gesture, but it feels like a win against the nickel-and-diming of modern travel. It’s the kind of detail that makes you forgive the slightly corporate feel of the breakfast buffet, which, while expansive, can feel like a departure lounge during peak convention season.

The real reason anyone stays here, besides the proximity to the convention center, is the 23rd floor. There are two pools in this joint. The one on the third floor is fine if you like looking at the neighboring mall, but the one on the 23rd is the closer. It’s a heated infinity pool that makes you feel like you’re swimming off the edge of the world. At sunset, when the sky turns that bruised purple and the lights of the city start to flicker on, it’s hard to be cynical. You can see the Sagrada Família poking its spires through the skyline in the distance, a reminder that the old world is still there, even if you’re currently floating seventy-five meters above the new one.

The neighborhood, Sant Martí, is a different beast entirely. You’ve got the Diagonal Mar shopping mall right across the street, which is exactly what you’d expect—a temple to global brands and food courts. But you’re also a ten-minute walk from the beach. Not the crowded, tourist-choked sands of Barceloneta, but the wider, slightly more breathable Platja de Llevant. The L4 metro line is a stone's throw away at El Maresme | Fòrum, and it’ll dump you into the heart of the Gothic Quarter in fifteen minutes. You get the quiet of the outskirts with the city on a leash.

Is it for everyone? No. If you want to wake up to the sound of church bells and the smell of a 200-year-old bakery, stay in Gràcia. But if you want a room that works, a view that kills, and the ability to escape the chaos of the center when the sun goes down, the Princess is a solid bet. It’s efficient, it’s tall, and it doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is: a high-rise sanctuary at the edge of the sea.