How can I describe Barcelona?

Barcelona is full.

Full of tourists.
Full of history.
Full of art.
Full of passion.

Everything is intensified.

Sound
Color
Light
Smell

In the Boqueria it overwhelms. Although the light is limited it's as though the odors grew large to take the lights place. Each stall I pass sends out scented tendrils to lure me in - luscious white Spanish cheeses here, ham still in the form of a leg there - suddenly strawberries - then fresh fish overwhelms it all - spices - chocolate - gelato - crepes cooking - the mouth waters and the mind is boggled . . . .

Oh, to have just a taste, a tiny taste of each one.

I wonder where the true Barcelonans are?

Where do they live?

Surely not in this mass of uncouth tourists
who only come to look
All the time snapping pictures,
pictures,
pictures.

Flocks of tourists
Herds of tourists
Schools of tourists

Walking dazed,
Seeing the world through the LCD screens of their cameras.

I am not of Barcelona.
I am just another awestruck tourist viewing the world through all my shiny toys.
Such a barbarian,
I can't even speak the language.