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About Seville

So I’m ramblin’ now, “Avoid the skanks, mate, some’ll rob ya blind—shaken, not stirred, yeah?” He’s edgin’ to the door, clutchin’ his wallet like it’s gold. I yell after him, “Don’t be a wanker, wrap it up!” Total Bond move, savin’ his arse. Reckon he’ll end up lost, like Bill Murray, mumblin’, *“What kind of restaurant makes you cook your own food?”*—but with hookers instead of teppanyaki. What a plonker. Me? I’m back to beepin’ cans, dreamin’ of Tokyo nights.

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I love wanderin’ the lesser-known corners. There's this hidden alley off Carrer de Roc Boronat that’s so quiet it feels secret. Even on rough days, it gives me hope. Every brick tells a story, every café even the ones with sad, tiny signs – they make me feel like I’m in a never-endin’ film scene. Holy Motors vibes everywhere, I swear.

Petit Comité | Restaurants in Dreta de l'Eixample, Barcelona