Plaza del Sol, Vila de Gràcia, Països Catalans Who has visited Barcelona and does not know this popular enclave? More than a decade ago, when I was a teenager, next to friends, when we wanted to discover a thousand and one nights of my hometown, we met with a multitude of young people who were socializing on our way. At that time it was a free space. We sat on the floor, in a circle, chatting for hours, playing the guitar and drinking a beer… But, we liked taste – it doesn’t always rain to everyone’s liking – we ended up bothering the neighbors who wanted to sleep.

Aware of this, as we ourselves lived in the neighborhoods of the great city, we learned to gain more attention and dedication. We were trying to lower the tone of voice, we were retiring at a reasonable time… However, hormones were always winning against goodwill. The time came, we were no longer pioneers, where the square was filling up more and more. From then on, the police entered the scene at midnight, making records, rubbing the warlords and making way for the cleaners of municipal services that watered the ground. Not being able to sit on the floor, the place lost its charm, it didn't make sense to keep picking up.

Time has passed. At the beginning of the summer day, I returned to the epicenter of youth: “Live in Gràcia and let me live so that your freedom does not reduce that of others” or “Your cries are heard aloud inside the house… In Gracià we don’t want to hear you!”, great posters stirred my conscience. They are hanging in Catalan, Spanish and English next to the plaza. It's that last language, the one that stood out the most the last time I went through there.

During this time I noticed with great astonishment that, when it rained, the roof that we had by refuge had been removed, that the railings that we used when the ground was made hard had been replaced by columns of penetrating steel and that on the stairs that border the plaza, pots had been put in place to prevent anyone from sitting. Apparently, not content with clearing people, they've gone further: they've installed a kind of plastic room, a kind of children's corner, so they're uncomfortable to reduce the width of the plaza.

This transformation process has resulted in a change of residence of the neighbors of all life, as they have been forced to move through the elimination of loud noises or, simply, without being able to cope with the increase in the rent imposed by the tourist process, they have become an obstacle. The youth of the neighborhood cannot take advantage of the plaza, as in this theme park they have no room to sit or to observe so many decadencies of modernity. They've used us to build a tailor-made business, drive us out of public space. However, I, too, feel partly responsible.

In this globalised world, where flying to Morocco is cheaper than driving to Euskal Herria, what is our responsibility and our commitment not to be a executioner? To some extent, we are responsible for this epidemic of which we are victims. It's a hypocrite, cursing those who stay in illegal holiday homes and travel to New York by sleeping on a Airbnb. We ask for an agreement worthy of hospitality and rest in the tourist area of Bali. We complain that we cannot be quiet in the most beloved corner of our city, while Instagram workers are in bondage, we even spend the whole month hanging photos on Instagram, giving the location of the “lost” beaches we have “found” on the Greek islands.

The journey is not the goal, but the path we follow to reach it. So let's give up our Western privilege of consuming experiences in exotic places. We learn to relate to respect in the places we visit. When we empty our backpacks to spend a few days, we are sure that we have not forced anyone to pack bags for a lifetime.