El carrer de la xocolata
The memories of the Solsona siblings smell like chocolate because they were born very close to the Cola-Cao factory. Like all children of the fifties, they endure the downpour of Francoism at school while at home they share the radio, comic books, and Juegos Reunidos. The telephone, the shower, the electric refrigerator, the television, and the Seat 600 arrive, with the four children crammed in the backseat.
Gràcia is a working-class neighborhood of Barcelona, where homes are shared spaces and courtyards serve as communication hubs. Street sweepers, lamplighters, ticket collectors, lifelong shops, packed trams, and second-run cinemas fill the landscape. The baby boom generation sings and protests as their parents start traveling alone and discovering tourism.
Parents, grandparents, uncles, and aunts—memory tugs at the threads of internal migration converging in Barcelona. One grandfather is an organ maker, the other an ardent Carlist; one grandmother is a weaver, while the other raises rabbits and teaches parakeets to say periquito. And the aunts bring a dog to mass so well-behaved that it even lifts a paw to offer the sign of peace.
