Girona Cathedral-formally the Cathedral of Saint Mary-doesn’t so much sit in the Old Town as loom over it from the top of ninety-one unforgiving steps. Those steps are a spectacle in themselves: a grand Baroque staircase that demands good shoes and maybe a quick pause to catch your breath halfway up. But the climb pays off, because at the top stands a building that took seven centuries to finish, mixing Romanesque solidity with Gothic ambition, crowned by the widest Gothic nave on Earth-nearly twenty-three meters across.

That colossal nave and the cathedral’s imposing exterior made it irresistible to movie location scouts. In season six of Game of Thrones, the cathedral masqueraded as the Great Sept of Baelor. The monumental staircase became the stage for Jaime Lannister’s tense standoff with the High Sparrow, complete with 200 extras, armies of Tyrell soldiers, and, yes, a horse specially trained to trot up the stone steps. For viewers, the scene looked like the height of medieval grit; for locals, it was Tuesday in front of the cathedral-plus a few cameras and a lot of armor.

The cathedral cameoed again in the finale of the season, though this time in less flattering fashion-obliterated in Cersei’s fiery coup. Of course, Girona’s most famous church is still very much intact; the explosion was pure special effects. Today, the staircase that once rang with sparrows and Lannisters is back to its old rhythm: tourists puffing their way up, locals ducking around them, and the cathedral presiding over it all with the quiet confidence that has outlasted more than one empire-real and fictional.

Let’s roll into Girona and meet Saint Peter of Galligants, a onetime Benedictine abbey turned archaeological museum since 1857. The name nods to the river that trickles nearby, though the abbey’s story carries a lot more weight than that gentle stream.

The monastery first appeared in 992, just outside Girona’s walls, but time wasn’t kind. Only its church and cloister made it through the centuries. The Romanesque church, finished in 1130, owes its existence to a generous donation from Ramon Berenguer the Great, Count of Barcelona. In retrospective, it's the best thing he could have done.

Step into the cloister and you’ll find Catalan Romanesque design at its finest. The northern gallery dates to 1154, with the rest completed in 1190, each capital etched with lions, sirens, and biblical tales. If you’ve seen the cloisters of Saint Cucuphas of Valles or Girona Cathedral, the motifs might feel like distant cousins. In 1931, Spain locked it into the history books by declaring it a national monument.

Of course, pop culture gave it a second wind. Saint Peter doubled as a set in Game of Thrones, most memorably as the entrance to Oldtown’s grand library, where Samwell Tarly hoped to rise as a Maester. It even played the part of a King’s Landing cloister. So, between medieval monks and TV dragons, Saint Peter of Galligants has stepped into more roles than many actors could dream of.

The Arab Baths of Girona sit a stone’s throw from the cathedral, a medieval spa with a misleading name. Built in 1194 by the city’s Christians-not the Moors-the baths borrow ideas from both Roman engineering and Islamic design but are Romanesque to their core. Step inside and you’re walking through a five-room routine that was as much about community as cleanliness. You start in the apodyterium, the dressing room, crowned by an octagonal pool and slender columns that set the scene. From there it’s a temperature tour: the icy frigidarium, the mild tepidarium, and the steam-filled caldarium, kept hot by an ingenious underfloor system, or hypocaust, that turned the whole place into a medieval wellness center.

The baths ran until the 15th century before slipping into decline. By the 1600s they were folded into a Capuchin convent, pressed into service as a pantry and laundry-hardly glamorous, but that recycling is what kept them intact. By the 19th century, people were calling them “Arab Baths,” a name that stuck more out of romantic fancy than historical accuracy. Careful restorations later returned the complex to something close to its medieval look, and today the interplay of light, stone, and geometry makes the rooms feel like a time capsule.

Pop culture gave the site fresh fame when Game of Thrones rolled into town. The baths doubled as Braavos in Arya Stark’s frantic chase through season six, and they reappeared in Oldtown as Samwell Tarly and Gilly arrived at the Citadel. The medieval stonework proved as camera-ready as any computer-generated castle.

Visitors today can wander the hushed interiors, peer up at the domed skylight, and even climb to the rooftop for views across Girona. The baths are more than a curiosity-they’re a reminder of how medieval Girona blended pragmatism, culture, and a touch of borrowed style into something uniquely its own.

Slip around the back of Girona’s cathedral and you’ll stumble onto Bishop Josep Cartañà Street-a lane that once belonged mostly to locals and pigeons but now doubles as prime Braavos territory. In Game of Thrones Season 6, this is where Arya Stark, blinded and desperate, staggered along the cobbles, begging for alms. The producers hardly touched a thing; the uneven stones, the narrow squeeze of walls, and those shadowy corners were ready-made for Braavos grit.

The street itself begins under an arch beside Apostols’ Square and winds down toward Saint Cristòfol Street. Its name honors Bishop Josep Cartañà, who left his mark on Girona in the 20th century and now rests eternally in the cathedral towering above. Beneath your feet lie Roman foundations, while the walls tell tales of medieval expansions. On paper, it’s a modest side street; in practice, it’s a timeline compressed into a few dozen meters.

For locals, it’s another thread in Girona’s historic fabric. For “Thronies,” it’s Arya’s training ground. The stone steps behind the cathedral gardens have become a pilgrimage site where fans perch, squint into imaginary sunlight, and play the part of a blind girl with more grit than coins. It’s one of the most reenacted moments in town-and perhaps the only spot where you’ll see tourists queuing up to pretend to beg.

That’s the charm of Bishop Cartañà Street: history layered with pop culture, a lane that’s both lived-in and cinematic, where Girona’s past meets fantasy.

El Call, Girona’s Jewish Quarter, is a labyrinth where history hides in plain sight. Its cobbled alleys and tight stone stairways once held the heartbeat of a Jewish community that flourished here from the 12th to the 15th century. Merchants, craftsmen, and scholars packed these narrow streets, and Girona’s reputation as a centre of learning was cemented by its famed school of Kabbalah. Then came 1492. Spain expelled its Jewish population, leaving behind empty houses and silence where life had once thrived. Yet the quarter endures, every twist of its passageways carrying echoes of that vanished world.

Nestled within this maze is the Museum of Jewish History, housed in what was once a synagogue. Step into its courtyard and you’ll see a bold Star of David carved into the stone-in case you forgot where you are. Inside, eleven rooms unfold the story of Jewish life in Girona and across Catalonia: how families lived, how festivals were celebrated, how medicine, philosophy, and trade were practiced here. Manuscripts, ritual objects, and carefully preserved artifacts breathe life into names that might otherwise be lost. The synagogue also carries the imprint of Nahmanides, the 13th-century rabbi, philosopher, and physician whose wit and wisdom left a mark on Jewish life for generations. What earned him fame was his ability to out-argue kings and out-write just about anyone in medieval Spain. A scale model of the quarter itself helps visitors imagine the district at its height, before its sudden fracture in the late 15th century.

The museum keeps moving forward with new displays and a shop full of books worth carrying home. Yet its real echo is on the streets around it, where every corner is less about sightseeing and more about walking through an archive written in stone, stubbornly refusing to be footnoted into silence.

The Onyar River does more than split Girona in two-it frames one of its most photographed scenes. Lining its banks are the famous colored houses, stacked in ochres, pinks, yellows, and reds, their reflections doubling the spectacle in the water below. They weren’t designed as postcard material; in the Middle Ages, people simply built where space allowed-right on the river’s edge. Their facelift came much later, when architect Rafael Masó and a handful of local artists chose a palette that turned practicality into one of Girona’s defining images.

Locals sometimes call them the “Hanging Houses,” as if the buildings were daring you to notice how they cling to the riverbank. Among them sits the Masó House, the birthplace of Masó himself, now preserved as a museum that pulls visitors into his vision of Catalan modernism.

The river doesn’t just separate buildings; it has long marked a boundary between Girona’s medieval Old Town on one side and its modern growth on the other. Crossing one of its bridges is a literal step between eras, and few crossings are more famous than the Eiffel Bridge-built in 1877 by the same workshop that later sent an iron tower into the Paris sky.

If you’re looking for the best view, sunrise and sunset are the golden hours. From the bridges, the houses glow and ripple in the water, and even the most casual stroller turns into a photographer. But these façades aren’t only a backdrop; they’re an introduction. They welcome you into a city where centuries of history cling to the stones as tightly as the houses hug the river.

Stretching across the Onyar River like a bright red exclamation mark is the Eiffel Bridge, Girona’s most photographed walkway. Officially, it’s the Bridge of the Old Fishmongers-locals once hauled their catch nearby-but somewhere along the way, the fish lost out to fame. Built in 1877 by Gustave Eiffel’s workshop, it’s the same engineer who would later bolt together a slightly taller project in Paris. You may have heard of it.

The bridge is all iron lattice, a web of crimson bars that makes you feel as though you’re stepping into a giant piece of geometry homework. It’s only about nine feet wide, and its wooden planks creak just enough underfoot to remind you of its age. At 136 feet long, it doesn’t ask for much walking, but it rewards every step.

Pause midway and the city spills into view: the Onyar flowing beneath you, flanked by a jumble of riverside houses painted in ochres, blues, and pinks-Girona’s most famous postcard in real time. On one side of the bridge lies Freedom Boulevard, a lively strip of shops and cafés that keep the old town buzzing. On the other, the newer part of the city stretches out, with Saint Clara Street leading you straight toward Independence Square.

This isn’t a bridge to cross quickly-it’s a bridge to linger on, to snap a photo or two, and to watch the light play across the river and rooftops. Eiffel built it as a functional crossing; Girona has made it a stage set for daily life.

The Ascent of Saint Domènec is one of Girona’s most photogenic stairways-and not just because of its Game of Thrones cameo. This stepped street took shape between the 14th and 17th centuries and still feels like a stage set, flanked by Renaissance palaces, the Agullana Palace, and crowned by the imposing baroque front of the Church of Saint Martí Sacosta. Its roots go back even further: the Dominicans planted a convent here in the 13th century, turning the area into both a religious hub and a neighborhood crossroads. Later renovations matched the drama of the church above, leaving us with the elegant, balanced stairway you see today.

Climbing it is a workout, but one softened by the setting. Locals claim it’s impossible to pass without pausing-whether that’s to snap a photo, claim a table at Le Bistrot, whose terrace hides under the arch, or peek into the Ensesa workshop, a favorite during Girona’s annual Temps de Flors festival when flowers spill across the steps.

Then there’s its screen career. Perfume: The Story of a Murderer filmed here back in 2006, but it was HBO’s Game of Thrones that catapulted the stairway into global stardom. Season 6 dressed the steps as a bustling Braavosi marketplace, complete with awnings, baskets, and extras. It’s where Arya Stark, blind and desperate, was chased down by the Waif. The moment that sticks into the fans' minds is her tumble that sent orange-filled baskets flying on the stairs.

Today, the Ascent of Saint Domènec works double duty: a slice of Girona’s architectural story and a pop-culture landmark, equally good for a quiet climb or a re-enactment.