Túnelchulo

Let’s be honest: most people come to Barcelona for the gothic spires, the Gaudí curves, and the sun-drenched plazas of the old city. They want the postcard. They want the dream. But if you want the soul—the scarred, tattooed, industrial soul of a city that actually works for a living—you head to Sant Martí. This is where you’ll find Túnelchulo. It isn't a museum. It doesn't have a gift shop, a velvet rope, or a docent in a blazer. It’s a tunnel. A concrete hole in the ground that connects one part of the neighborhood to another, and it’s one of the most honest things you’ll see in this town.

Located on Carrer d'Espronceda, this underpass is a middle finger to the idea that public infrastructure has to be boring. For years, the Sant Martí and Poblenou districts were the 'Manchester of Catalonia,' a forest of smoking chimneys and brick factories. When the industry died, the artists moved in. Túnelchulo—literally the 'Cool Tunnel'—is the result of that transition. It’s a space where the neighborhood’s history is literally painted onto the walls. You aren't just walking through a passage; you’re walking through a gallery of urban defiance.

The murals here aren't the sanitized, corporate-approved 'street art' you see in gentrified neighborhoods elsewhere. They are bold, graphic, and often deeply connected to the local identity. You’ll see faces that look like the people walking past you, abstract explosions of color that mimic the Mediterranean sun, and political statements that remind you that Barcelona has always been a city of rebels. The light inside is strange—a mix of harsh fluorescent hum and the natural glow creeping in from the ends—which makes the colors pop in a way that feels almost hallucinatory.

Walking through Túnelchulo hits you with a dose of reality that most tourists miss because they’re too busy queuing for a church. You hear the rhythmic slap of skateboards on concrete, the distant hiss of a spray can, and the echo of your own footsteps. It’s a shortcut for locals, a place where commuters with headphones on pass by teenagers practicing dance moves. There is no pretension here. It’s a functional piece of the city that happens to be beautiful in a jagged, urban way. It’s the kind of place where you realize that art doesn't need a frame to be important.

Is it 'pretty' in the traditional sense? No. It’s concrete. It’s an underpass. It smells like the city. But it’s authentic. In a city that is increasingly being turned into a theme park for visitors, Túnelchulo remains a stubborn pocket of local culture. It’s a reminder that the best things in Barcelona are often the things that weren't built for you. They were built for the people who live here, and you’re just lucky enough to be passing through. If you’re looking for a 'best street art Barcelona' experience that doesn't feel like a guided tour, this is your spot. Just bring your camera, leave your expectations at the entrance, and enjoy the walk. It’s short, it’s electric, and it’s completely free.