It’s almost February, and the winter stretches ahead many unappetizing and uncompromising months. It’s sunny but cold. What better moment to stop and reflect on summer days on the beach in Barcelona?

The sand. The sand is so strange in Barcelona. It isn’t real, it’s imported from somewhere, and it’s so fine as to almost be dust. It will destroy any shoes that are exposed to it frequently, coating them with a thin film that never comes off. It also coats human skin, yet in a way that is life-affirming and delightful. Your bed is always dirty, and so is your floor, but your powdery skin sparkles. The sand in Barcelona positively shines. Many people hate it; it is pervasive, and invasive, but it means summer and I love it.

The heat. It rises like a wall, and with it comes the humidity. Walking to the beach is almost like swimming through the heavy wet air, and tiny droplet of moisture occasionally fall on your skin although there isn’t a cloud in the sky. The metro will only take you to the very edge of the beach zone, and it is necessary to walk for almost half and hour down the tourist-infested and baking street, or to seek shelter in the narrow, dark, languid streets of Barceloneta.

The picnics. Buy food at the shops. Make sandwiches, buy plums or nectarines in the height of summer, or an avocado to slice or squash into your sandwich. And eat cake with every picnic. Let all of us eat cake! For added debauchery, wash it down with tins of beer or shandies at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, or feel virtuous and drink orange juice.

The sun. Whether reading demurely under an umbrella, or sprawling semi-unconscious under the weight of a hangover, wear sunscreen, lots and lots of it. Respect the sun but love it too. It is the focus of the beach, and the only indication of the passing of time on the curious tideless shores of the Mediterranean. The sun becomes too much for everyone, and occasionally it’s necessary to rouse yourself, blearily, and crawl towards the cool, welcoming waves.

The night. Still here? Why leave now. Enjoy the delicious coolness of that dusty sand as covers your feet or caresses your bare shoulders lying on the beach in the evening. At night on the beach you can be scruffy and beautiful, you can dance and roll in somersaults by the ocean, and kick the dark water with your dusty, dirty, tired and suntanned legs.

The cleaners. BCNeta, the streetcleaners, and also the beach cleaners it turns out. Will kick you off the beach at around midnight, clean it, and douse it with water to discourage you from coming back. Perhaps it’s time to be going home anyway. Tomorrow will be another sunny day.