Last night, I went for a long stroll along Sitges—and I’d almost forgotten how much I love this town on a weekday evening in summer. The pace slows. The crowds thin. You can actually hear yourself think between the echo of flip-flops on pavement and the distant lapping of the sea.
Weekends here tend to turn into a bit of a circus. Tourists spill into town like a flash flood—sunburnt, beach-toweled, and ready to queue for ice cream. But on a weeknight? Much more manageable. You get your town back, in a way.
I started at the port area, where the boats were bobbing lazily, and made my way past the church—Sitges’ iconic silhouette, still striking even after all these years. The air was thick with humidity, clinging like a second shirt, but the beauty of the evening more than made up for it. It was the kind of weather that makes you move slower, breathe deeper, and pay closer attention.
Along the promenade, a local musician was performing—just him, his guitar, and the soft rhythm of the sea behind him. I stopped for a while to listen, letting the music blend with the buzz of conversation and the sound of rollerblades skimming the pavement. People watching in Sitges is always a full-spectrum experience: couples walking hand in hand, older locals sitting quietly on benches, kids chasing each other in looping games of tag.
It was simple, familiar, and exactly what I needed.
There’s something grounding about returning to the rhythm of home after being away—even if “home” includes a bit of sticky summer air and the occasional whiff of grilled sardines. Sitges, with its soft chaos and golden-hour calm, welcomed me back like it always does: quietly, beautifully, and just on time.
Until next time…
PS. The church at night is stunning as always!
