Barcelona Zoo

Listen for a moment. Beneath the traffic of the city, there are other sounds here. A peacock calls from somewhere behind the trees. Gravel crunches under strollers. Far off, a sea lion barks, and children answer it with laughter. The air smells of cut grass, warm earth, and the faint sweetness of plane trees. You are standing inside Barcelona Zoo, and the busy streets of the Born district are only a few minutes' walk away.

To understand this place, it helps to know what stood here before. This ground was once a military fortress, the Ciutadella, or citadel. The Bourbon king Philip the Fifth built it in the early eighteenth century, after his troops took Barcelona in 1714. For generations, the fortress stood as a symbol of control over the city. Many neighbourhood homes were torn down to make room for it. Barcelonans did not forget that.

In the nineteenth century, the walls finally came down. The land became a public park, the Parc de la Ciutadella, and in 1888 it hosted Barcelona's Universal Exposition. Take a moment to think about that change. A place built to watch over the city became a garden for its people. The zoo is part of that later story. It opened here in 1892, in grounds the exposition had left behind.

The first animals, according to most accounts, came from a private collection. A Barcelona businessman named Lluís Martí Codolar kept exotic animals on his estate, and part of that collection formed the core of the new zoo. In those days, a zoo was mostly a display of the unusual. People came to stare at creatures they had only seen in prints. Over the following century, the idea of what a zoo should be changed many times.

Now for the first surprise. Before you leave, look for a small fountain with a woman standing under an open umbrella. Locals call her the Lady with the Umbrella. She was made for the park in the eighteen-eighties, before the zoo existed, and the zoo later grew around her. Many visitors walk straight past without noticing her. Barcelonans, however, know her well. She is one of the city's most loved small statues, and she has stayed dry under that umbrella for well over a century.

The most famous resident in this zoo's history was a gorilla named Snowflake. In Catalan he was Floquet de Neu, in Spanish Copito de Nieve. He was a western lowland gorilla with pure white fur and pale pink skin — an albino, which is extremely rare in gorillas. He came from Equatorial Guinea in West Africa as a young animal in the 1960s. For almost four decades, he lived here in Barcelona.

Snowflake became far more than a zoo animal. His photograph appeared on the cover of a major international magazine. Postcards, toys, and souvenirs carried his face. For many people in Barcelona, visiting him was a childhood ritual that they later shared with their own children. Here is the second surprise. He fathered many offspring, but none of them inherited his white coat. When he died in 2003, the city mourned him like a local celebrity, and people still talk about him today.

Today the zoo is in the middle of another change. For years, the dolphin shows were among its most popular attractions. Those shows ended in the mid-2010s, after public debate about keeping dolphins in captivity. Later, the city council approved a new model for the zoo. That plan puts more weight on conservation, on species at risk, and on animals from the Mediterranean and the Iberian Peninsula. As you walk, you may see older enclosures next to newer, more naturalistic ones. That contrast shows a zoo that is still working out what it wants to become.

Look at the paths around you. They are wide, flat, and shaded by tall trees, many of them older than anyone visiting today. This makes the zoo an easy place to walk slowly. In summer, the shade matters a great deal. Barcelona afternoons can be hot and heavy, and the animals often rest during the warmest hours. Morning visits usually bring more movement in the enclosures and cooler air on the paths.

Because it sits in an old city park, the zoo feels different from large suburban zoos. It is compact. Its edges press against everyday Barcelona. Through gaps in the trees, you can sometimes see apartment buildings and rooftops. You may hear a bicycle bell from the park outside, or the voices of people jogging past. The wild and the urban sit very close together here, and that closeness is part of the experience.

When you leave, the rest of the Parc de la Ciutadella is waiting. Near the zoo stands the Catalan Parliament, housed in a building that was once part of the old fortress. Nearby is the great Cascada fountain, a dramatic waterfall of stone and sculpture built for the park in the nineteenth century. On weekends, the lawns fill with families, musicians, jugglers, and people simply lying in the sun. It is worth an hour of slow wandering after the animals.

If you are travelling with children, think of the zoo as one stop in a longer day. Bring water and a snack, plan a break at the halfway point, and let the children choose which animals to visit first. Adults often find that the quieter corners hold the best moments. A flamingo lifts one leg and stands perfectly still. A primate studies you through the glass as carefully as you study it.

So, before you move on, stand still for a moment. Notice the light falling through the leaves onto the path. Listen again for that peacock, or the bark of the sea lions. Remember that soldiers once marched across this ground, and that a white gorilla once drew crowds from around the world to this same corner of the city. Then walk on slowly, and see what the park shows you next.