I first visited Girona in September 2016. I remember thinking how beautiful it was, how good the food was, and how hot it felt wandering through the old town at the tail end of summer. It left a strong impression, one of those places that quietly stays with you.
As Victor and I were living in Barcelona temporarily, it felt like the right moment to return. We had talked about revisiting Girona for a while, and timing it with Temps de Flors made the decision easy. It’s a festival I’d long wanted to see, and spring felt like the right season to experience the city again.
We arrived just after 9:00am and met our friend’s mother to collect the apartment keys. Although our schedules hadn’t aligned with our friends this time, they generously let us stay at their place, which immediately set a relaxed tone for the weekend. After dropping our bags, we downloaded a map of the Temps de Flors route and headed back out into the streets.
A City Shaped by Layers
Part of what makes Girona so compelling is how visibly layered it is. Roman foundations sit beneath medieval walls, narrow streets climb toward the cathedral, and centuries of history are compressed into a compact, walkable city. Girona has long been shaped by its strategic position, frequently contested and continually rebuilt.
Walking through the old town, history feels present rather than abstract. It’s there in the worn stone steps, the fortified walls, and the quiet courtyards tucked behind busy streets. Even without seeking out specific landmarks, it’s impossible not to feel how much has happened here.
That density of history is reinforced by the river that cuts through the city. The Onyar River divides Girona into distinct halves, its bridges and reflections creating constant shifts in perspective as you move through the streets. From one bank to the other, the city feels subtly different, quieter in places, more residential in others, and always anchored by water that has shaped daily life here for centuries.
It’s perhaps no surprise that Girona’s atmosphere has also caught the attention of filmmakers. Parts of the old town were used as filming locations for Game of Thrones, standing in for the streets of Braavos and King’s Landing. Yet even knowing this, the city never feels staged or performative. The layers were already there long before the cameras arrived, and Girona remains, first and foremost, a lived-in place where history continues to unfold quietly.
What Is Temps de Flors?
Temps de Flors is an annual spring festival that transforms Girona for just over a week each May (covering two weekends). What began as a modest flower exhibition has grown into a city-wide event, with installations spread across courtyards, staircases, churches, civic buildings, and private patios that are usually closed to the public.
Rather than concentrating everything in one area, the festival encourages movement. Visitors follow suggested routes through the old town, discovering installations woven into the city’s architecture. Flowers interact with stone, iron, water, and light, often transforming spaces that might otherwise go unnoticed.
Following the route felt less like ticking off stops and more like learning how to move through the city differently. We doubled back often, missed things, stumbled upon others by accident. Some courtyards were crowded and loud, others almost silent. The map became a loose suggestion rather than an instruction, encouraging us to wander rather than rush, and to accept that we wouldn’t see everything!
First Stops Along the Route
We began at stop number four in Plaça Jacint Verdaguer Baix. Titled 2025, a square year to frame a pentagonal 70th anniversary, the installation played with figurate numbers. The idea was thoughtful and quietly mathematical, but what stayed with me most were the succulents, carefully arranged and grounding the concept in something tactile and alive.
Nearby, stop number five, All with the dana, shifted the tone. Figures gathered together in a boat reflected on flooding, vulnerability, and solidarity. It posed an uncomfortable question: Do we need a disaster for compassion to surface? Despite the heaviness of the theme, the message leaned toward hope, acknowledging fragility without despair.
From Numbers to Narratives
From there, we moved into the garden behind the Casino Gironí for stop number seven, To Fly. Tables were set for tea, with paper cranes suspended above. The installation spoke about leaving the nest, stepping into independence, and the reassurance that the nest remains, unchanged, should you need to return. It felt gentle and grounding.
Just across from the garden, the stairs leading up to the Església dels Dolors held stop number nine, The Last Farmer on Earth. Gardening tools lay among plants as if abandoned, overtaken by nature. The accompanying text imagined a future where rural knowledge had disappeared entirely. It was unsettling not because it felt fantastical, but because it felt plausible.
Interrupted Childhoods and Silenced Voices
Continuing along Carrer de l’Albereda, stop number twelve was one of the most moving of the day. A boat filled with life-size white figurines, unmistakably childlike, formed the installation Exile Has No Station. It reflected on displacement and suspended time, on childhood interrupted and forced to take root elsewhere. Despite the weight of the theme, there was tenderness in its restraint.
A short distance away, stop number fourteen, Wasteland, occupied a space that felt almost suspended within the street. It explored silence as a battleground, focusing on the voices of women erased from collective memory. Each flower acted as a witness. The final question lingered: And what silences your voice?
Myths, Legends, and Local Symbols
In Plaça de Vi, stop number twenty-two brought a shift in tone. A dragon filled the space, referencing a mythological figure closely tied to Catalan culture and the Saint George tradition. After the emotional intensity of earlier installations, it felt celebratory and grounding.
Nearby, in the patio of Casa Carles, stop number twenty-three leaned fully into local legend. Hundreds of small flies were suspended in threads, forming a three-dimensional daffodil. Inspired by the legend of Saint Narcissus and the flies of Girona, the installation was intricate, playful, and slightly surreal, rewarding close attention.
Playfulness and Tradition at Casa Solterra
At Casa Solterra, stop number thirty-one gathered the city’s capgrossos, traditional Catalan festival figures with oversized papier-mâché heads. They formed a path from Carrer dels Ciutadans into the inner courtyard, where they appeared to bloom outward into the space.
Created with floral elements designed by local schoolchildren, the installation was joyful and communal. After so many reflective works, it felt like a celebration, rooted firmly in local tradition.
Words, Water, and the Cathedral Steps
Near the cathedral, stop number forty-six in Plaça dels Apòstols presented a river of flowers and books. The text likened Girona’s stones to a river of letters flowing through time, each one holding stories of past lives. It was poetic and well placed, a quiet pause before the festival’s most monumental space.
The steps of the Girona Cathedral formed the centrepiece of the day. A cascade of white flowers and flowing water transformed the staircase, marking the 70th edition of the festival. The effect was striking but restrained, allowing the architecture to frame the installation rather than overwhelm it.
Just beyond, along the Pujada de la Catedral, stop number forty-four brought everything back to street level. Grass and bicycles formed a pathway through the space, celebrating spring, sustainability, and the shared rhythms of city life. It also felt especially apt in Girona, a city long associated with cycling, both as a place to ride and as a hub for professional teams.
Lunch in the Sun
By then, it was time for lunch. We sat outside at Restaurant l’Escabetx, enjoying the spring weather. The food was bright and generous: hummus with pickled accompaniments, and a tomato salad with a peach salmorejo topped with smoked sardine, my favourite dish of the meal.
We followed with mussels in a spicy saffron sauce and a delicately steamed sea bass served with ají amarillo, coriander, pickled red onion, and corn. A silky flan finished things perfectly. It was an ideal pause, restorative rather than indulgent.
Toward the Walls and Gardens
Climbing toward the walls and gardens, the city opened out. Along the Passeig Arqueològic, stop number sixty-three, A New Life Blossoms, reflected on organ donation as an act that allows new life to emerge. Nearby, in the Jardins de la Francesa, Fragments evoked the memory of a house through textures, colours, and scent, created by art students from Olot.
In the Chapel of Saint Christopher, Les flors s’emmirallen celebrated flowers themselves, marking 25 years of decoration. Our final stop in this area was inside Torre Gironella. We Need More Wings, created by the V.E.S.P.A. Women’s Commission, explored transformation, shared strength, and the cycles of life. Diverse experiences converged into a single message of collective power.
Evening Vermouth
By the time we returned downtown, the light was fading. We stopped for a drink and a few small bites at La Malabarista Vermuteria, not hungry enough for dinner, but ready to sit.
It was the perfect way to end the day. The city felt calmer, as if both Girona and we had reached the natural close of something full and absorbing.
Which Temps de Flors display looks the most interesting or beautiful to you? Stay tuned for Part II for more!
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