I’m sure you have a memory of that place too. Maybe it was that rock band T-shirt you couldn’t find anywhere else, the first piercing you got behind your parents’ backs, or those endless afternoons at Bar Jardí, surrounded by plants and thick smoke that would be unthinkable today. To speak of the “Camello,” the legendary Portaferrissa Market, is to speak of a Barcelona that no longer exists—a city of alleys, urban tribes, and characters who made eccentricity their hallmark.
Although the venue closed its doors four years ago, leaving a void that is hard to fill in the heart of the Gothic Quarter, its history refuses to be forgotten. And not only because of the nostalgia of those of us who wandered its labyrinthine aisles, but becausenow a group of young filmmakers has set out to rescue its creator, Artur Mijangos, from anonymity, along with the most iconic element of that ecosystem: the figure of the camel that guarded the entrance.
A toast to the man who dressed the city
The seed of this project, titled with the charismatic name ‘Petons al Cul’ (Kisses on the Ass), stems from an unlikely friendship. Joan and Víctor, two friends barely in their thirties, became the mainstay of support for Artur, who now lives in retirement in his apartment in Castelldefels. Between TikTok videos and walks with his dog Bruc, the man who was once one of the most visionary entrepreneurs of Barcelona’s roguish scene in the ’70s and ’80s now navigates a much more precarious reality.
Artur was no run-of-the-mill businessman. From the moment he opened Blue Jeans at age 17 through the creation of the Balmes Market and, finally, the Portaferrissa temple, his driving force was always transgression. The documentary seeks precisely that: to show the contrast between that past of overwhelming success and a present marked by the loneliness of someone who watched his world vanish before the advance of the big international chains.
On the trail of the lost hump
The turning point of this story unfolds on a cell phone screen. Joan and Víctor discovered a video showing how the legendary figure of the camel that presided over the venue was hoisted up a facade using ropes. That symbolic “kidnapping” of the market’s emblem was the catalyst for a film project that is, at once, an investigation and a tribute. The goal is clear: to recover the legacy of a space that was a refuge for punks, mods, and any soul who didn’t fit the established mold.
The project is currently in full production and has launched a crowdfunding campaign on Verkami to help bring it to completion. With a budget aimed at covering technical and post-production costs, the team hopes to premiere a film in 2026 that not only tells Artur’s story but also forces us to ask why there is no longer room in today’s Barcelona for projects with such a strong identity and so little filter. It is, in short, a final cry of resistance from that city that always said goodbye with biting humor and a “kiss my ass.”
