Rubí

At 123 m above sea level, Rubí sits low enough for the Mediterranean to temper winter frosts, yet high enough that the wind still carries the clatter of the FGC railway down every side street. Most British travellers feel the place before they see it: the train from Barcelona airport tilts gently uphill after Sant Cugat, the carriage empties, and the city’s thrum gives way to something quieter, flatter, cheaper.

A Town That Forgot to Be Pretty

Forget the honey-stone villages of Andalucía. Rubí is poured concrete, aluminium shutters and 1970s brickwork, planned for factory workers rather than photographers. The comparison you hear in the departure lounge is “a Spanish Croydon”: useful, safe, visually uninspiring. It is fair, but incomplete. Beneath the commuter skin lies a scatter of medieval footings and modernista façades that most passengers never pause to examine.

Start at the Castell de Rubí, or what remains of it. A single craggy wall rises behind a children’s playground off Carrer d’En Serra; information panels show where the tenth-century fortress once commanded the road from Barcelona to Terrassa. You can circumnavigate the ruins in four minutes, longer if you stop to read the graffiti. Adjacent, the eighteenth-century bell tower of Sant Pere pokes above the rooftops like a lighthouse in a sea of flats. Step inside and the air smells of candle wax and floor polish – the church is still the parish heartbeat, not a museum.

Five minutes south, Carrer de Sant Rafael hides the town’s only modernista flourish: Casa Barennes (1907), designed by Joan Rubió i Bellver, a draughtsman who helped Gaudí with the Sagrada Família benches. The house is private, so you can admire the sgraffito swirls and green-glazed tiles from the pavement, then duck into the neighbouring bakery, Forn de Pa Paquita, for a warm coca de recapte – the Catalan answer to a slimline pizza, topped with roasted aubergine and botifarra sausage. One wedge costs €1.80 and doubles as lunch if you are economising.

Green Patches Between the Blocks

Rubí’s planners reserved one sizeable hill for oxygen instead of apartments. Parc de Ca n’Oriol delivers a 2 km loop of pine-shaded paths and, from the upper terrace, a sightline to Montserrat’s serrated ridge on clear days. Locals in neon trainers power-walk at noon; British visitors usually arrive after 17:00 when the sun loses its bite. Bring water – shade is rationed and the single café kiosk closes without warning if trade is slow.

Serious walkers can continue along the GR-97 long-distance footpath which clips the northern edge of town. A 45-minute stroll west reaches the 1850 brick aqueduct of Can Tries; add another hour and you hit the wine village of Ullastrell, where Saturday lunch is a €12 menú del día at family-run Cal Xarel. Trains back to Rubí run hourly, so time your paella to departure or face a €25 taxi.

Eating: From Market Stall to Padded Booth

The Mercat Municipal (open 07:00–14:00, closed Sunday) is the cheapest place to taste the Vallès. Stall 14 still sells calçots – long spring onions – between January and March; they will grill them on the spot if you ask. Otherwise, pick up a clutch of mild Paltré cheeses and a slab of fuet sausage, then retreat to the picnic tables in Ca n’Oriol.

Sit-down meals cluster around Plaça de la Vila. Can Xarina does Catalan grill with English menus and half-ration options, handy if you are feeding cautious offspring. Expect to pay €16 for rabbit with aioli and chips. Vegetarians head to L’Imperi pizzeria – not authentic, but the dough is thin and the house wine arrives in 500 ml carafes for €4.50. Kitchens close at 23:00 sharp; after that, your only hot food is the kebab van outside the station.

Getting In, Getting Out

From any British airport the drill is identical: two-hour hop to Barcelona-El Prat, free shuttle to Terminal 2B, then FGC line S1 or S5. Trains leave every 15 minutes, reach Rubí in 38–45 minutes, and a T-Casual ticket (€11.35) covers the entire journey plus Barcelona metro for the rest of the day. Avoid the 07:30–09:00 crush – commuters will edge your rucksack into the aisle and glare.

Sunday is a transport desert. No shops, no market, one morning train an hour. Book a Barcelona ticket in advance or you will end up pacing empty streets with only vending-machine crisps for comfort.

What You Will Not Find

Nightlife shuts down soon after the last commuter train. Bars lower shutters at 23:30; locals who want clubs drive to Terrassa or Sant Cugat. Rubí also lacks a postcard centre – the “old quarter” is essentially one pedestrianised street, Carrer de la Creu, and you can walk its length in the time it takes to finish an iced cortado.

August is another blank page. Half the businesses close; even the bakery that advertises “forn tot l’any” takes a fortnight off. Come in late March for the calçotada season or late September when the Festa Major fills the streets with costumed giants and free outdoor concerts. Mid-November adds the Fira de la Cervesa Artesana if you fancy washing down craft ale with live ska bands – the one weekend when Rubí feels louder than Barcelona.

The Honest Verdict

Use Rubí as a budget bed for Barcelona and you will save £60 a night on hotel bills, enjoy quieter nights and still reach Plaça de Catalunya faster than from some city suburbs. Treat it as a destination in its own right and you need realistic expectations: a handful of ruins, two decent bakeries, a serviceable park and the chance to watch Catalans live unfiltered by tour buses. Some travellers relish that slice of normality; others board the 08:03 train and never look back. Either reaction is valid – just do not arrive expecting cobbles and flowerpots, and you will not be disappointed.