Barcelona terror thoughts

At 8am on Tuesday morning I arrived back at my desk but as is so often is the case after a weekend away, I was here in body but not in spirit.

From Friday evening until Monday lunchtime I had the pleasure of again staying in the Catalan capital of Barcelona, this time for the third time in my life.

As a keen traveller and someone who gets away whenever finances and annual leave allow, I try not to make a habit of going back to the same place, even twice. I’ve now been to 33 countries and believe that the world is a huge place with so much out there to explore and no matter how great a location is, there’s so much unchartered territory around the globe left to uncover.

Yet, despite this there’s something about Barcelona that keeps drawing me back. Perhaps that makes me a hypocrite? I don’t mind.

It has now become clear that 13 people have been killed in an ISIS-claimed terror attack which struck Las Ramblas, the very heart of Barcelona yesterday afternoon.

The attacker, who is said to still be at large, drove a van down the vibrant boulevard mowing into pedestrians along the way. Hundreds were injured, including several more in a separate attack in Cambrils, 120 kilometres away.

Catalan authorities have been left in no doubt that Las Ramblas was targeted for a specific reason, and that reason is that thousands of tourists visit the thoroughfare every day, soaking up the city’s unique atmosphere at the hundreds of bars, restaurants, boutiques and market stalls that line the avenue as it stretches down to the Mediterranean Sea.

Las Ramblas is a hive of activity, from the street performers who draw the crowds during the day, to the prostitutes that frequent the area at night. Las Ramblas really is truly a melting point of cultures in a city I believe to be one of the most beautiful in the world.

Sometimes when pictures of the terror attacks that now all too frequently take place both in Western Europe and countries such as Iraq and Afghanistan are beamed to our 24 hour news channels, we are gripped in a kind of morbid curiosity watching as the death count increases.

Of course we keep our fingers crossed that the death toll doesn’t rise further and the police are able to arrest all those who played their part in the planning of the atrocity. Maybe it makes me a cold person or all this crime reporting at Truro Crown Court has desensitised me, but I usually struggle to truly emphasise with those who are there.

Well I did previously, but all this changed yesterday.

On Monday morning I took one final walk down Las Ramblas before heading to the airport and back to my Cornwall home.

I was tired (no more than 15 hours sleep in three nights), hungover (I lost count of the amount of sangria I drank over the course of the weekend), broke (it’s not the cheapest city), burnt (I was a bit low on funds on our beach day and the choice was mojitos or sun cream), slightly annoyed (FC Barcelona had been trounced by Real Madrid and that tw*t Ronaldo right in front of me) but despite all of this I was still in love with the city and didn’t want to come home.

So when I was driving home from work yesterday and heard the catastrophic events unfolding on the radio, I felt physically sick. What made it even worse was when I switched on BBC news and saw people running for their lives up the exact street I had walked down just three days before.

My heart truly does go out to everybody involved and I’ve been left with one of those feelings that it could have been me. What if the terrorists decided to attack a few days earlier or even last weekend when it would have been even busier and I was sat at one of the bars playing cards over a beer with my friends?

The attackers are cowards, targeting innocent holiday makers trying to enjoy some sunshine in a bid to escape this insult of a British summer. Just as I was several days ago.

What alarms me most is how easy it is to hire a van and cause carnage, I can only pray it doesn’t happen again, however I am not confident that it won’t.

Will this attack stop me going back to Barcelona? No, never. We cannot let them win. As is the case in London, Paris, Brussels and now Barcelona life must go on although we must never forget those who have been affected.

Barcelona is an enchantingly beautiful city. There’s Plaça Catalunya, Park Guell, Camp Nou, La Sagrada Família, the Gothic Quarter and so many other amazing sights to soak up.

Yes it may get overcrowded and some locals resent the huge influx of visitors but this won’t stop me loving the city.

Nor will the acts of a number of pathetic men and I pray that those injured in the atrocity make full recoveries and the city is able to get back on its feet once the natural period of mourning comes to an end.

I don’t care if it makes me a hypocrite, Barcelona, I’ll be back.