Welcome to Barcelona, City of Dragons

Dragons can be found in other cities too. York has its dragon weathervane atop the Minster. London's City boundary is famously guarded by dragon sculptures, and the village of St George in County Durham even bears the name of England's dragon-slaying patron saint. Most dragons, however, are found in Asian cities.

But nowhere in the world are there as many different dragon representations as in this remarkable Barcelona city of dragons. In the city centre alone, more than a thousand fire-breathing fantasy creatures have been counted.

If you want to find out why, I suggest joining one of our English-language guided tours of Barcelona. On our Gothic Quarter tour, for example, we explain why medieval stonemasons carved them in stone. And on our Art Nouveau and Gaudí Tour (another of our Barcelona sightseeing tours in English), you'll discover why the Modernista architects were so obsessed with them.

But first, here is the wonderful explanation given by Andorran photographer Josep Martínez in the preface to his photo book "Drakcelona, City of Dragons". (Josep Martínez; Drakcelona. Ciudad de los dragones; 2011; Ariola Editors)

The Legend of Drakcelona

They came from everywhere. From the icy plains of the Himalayas, from the slopes of Mount Fuji, from the rugged cliffs of Ireland, from the craters of Italian volcanoes, from the deep forests of the Carpathians, from the jungles of Vietnam, from the oak woodlands of England, from the emerald rainforests of the Yucatán, and from the scorching sand dunes of the Namibian desert.

Even the reclusive inhabitants of Norway's deep blue fjords made the journey. The oldest of them all — the Australians — arrived last.

Some are red or gold. There are white ones, blue ones, black ones, green ones. They are Chinese, Nordic, oceanic, feathered or scaled. They can be giants or tiny creatures.

More than a thousand specimens, representing different species and lineages — all survivors of human greed — came to the city. They travelled only at night, sheltered by darkness, wrapped in clouds and drifting mist. They swam through streams and beneath the sea.

Along ancient secret paths, thousands of years old, they crossed mountain ranges.

A brave few dared to travel by day, leaving all those who could not explain what they were seeing in a state of wonder and uproar.

Never before had so many of them been seen together in one place.

The night they arrived was pitch black. Wet, sticky fog, smelling of sulphur, drifted through the silent streets. Far too silent they were — and dark.

If you listened carefully, you could just make out sounds that seemed to come from the rooftops.

An eerie, muffled rumbling.

As agreed, they settled into their designated places. There they remained and began to wait for their moment. By midnight, each one had found its spot. Now they all waited.

The waiting was long. Very long. Too long.

So long that some of them forgot why they had come to the city.

So long that some fell asleep between the stones and walls where they had hidden.

So long that others found themselves watching the tourist boats gliding across the harbour, laden with sightseers.

So long that more than one of them shrank and became as small as the mosaic tiles of the Modernista artists.

They waited so long that they lost their shyness around people and no longer feared being spotted by passers-by — to whom they would occasionally even offer a smile.

So much time passed since their arrival that they finally stayed on in this wonderful city, which had once welcomed them so warmly.

They felt so at home here that they decided to make the city their own — and to protect it. They named it "Drakcelona": City of Dragons.