You know it’s a bank holiday in Spain when you step out of your flat and into the beginning of a zombie film. There are no cars on the streets. Shops have the shutters down. Compared to a normal day there’s very little noise. If you’re foreign and work freelance like me, bank holidays tend to come as a bit of a surprise.

As I left my apartment building this morning, hospital robes aside I looked a bit like Cillian Murphy at the start of 28 Days Later. Where was everybody?

I stopped short of belting out a desperate ‘HOLAAAAA!?!’ when I spotted another human braving the outside world like me. My phone confirmed it. El día de la Hispanidad. A bank holiday.

My relief at having avoided a zombie outbreak was tempered slightly when I noticed the man I’d seen down the street carrying a baguette. Then I spied a woman carrying a handful of them. I’d forgotten that the only places open in Barcelona on bank holidays are bakeries and cafes. Clearly this limits your culinary options somewhat if you forget to go to the market or supermarket the day before.

From my admittedly limited experience of Spanish bank holidays, I would say there are three groups of people who leave the comfort of their flat. Especially on a slightly grey, rainy bank holiday like today. They are:

Group 1 – Those with baguettes who are heading home and those who are anxiously looking for somewhere to buy a baguette.

Group 2 – Those who are either foreign and don’t know the dates of Spanish holidays, or forgetful locals. This group also tends to return home with a baguette.

Group 3 – Those who are walking their dogs. Although I wouldn’t call it a scientific study, I did spot two dog walkers tie up their dogs next to a bakery, so I imagine they too might also return home with a baguette.

Bakery goods aside, to non-native residents like myself, bank holidays here in Spain can seem a bit strange. In the UK, they are always on a Monday apart from at Christmas or Easter. So you can plan it. It’s a three day weekend.

Here in Spain it’s a bit different. The holiday is set to the date, so it falls whenever it falls. A Wednesday is probably the worst time for it to be, as if it’s a Tuesday or a Thursday, some people take what is called el puente. The bridge. This basically means that they also take the Monday or Friday off too and have a four day weekend.

Perhaps the most eerie thing about Spanish bank holidays is the drop in noise levels. For a country that is generally pretty loud a lot of the time, the difference on a day like today is really noticeable.

Perhaps I should sit back and enjoy it, but personally I’m looking forward to the noise returning tomorrow. Especially if it means shifting back from my baguette-only diet.