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It's nearly 10 p.m. in Barcelona. But after climbing a narrow tower in La Sagrada Familia — and climbing it in still roasting heat — I'm in need of some air. So I set out on a leisurely evening stroll.

I decide to take the Passeig de Gracia. This city's Champs-Élysées, it takes me past more Gaudi landmarks, palatial homes set back from the boulevard. And eventually I come upon Catalunya Plaza — a famous meeting place for locals, as well as the eight million visitors who come here every year.

On this night, though, the crowd, growing by the second, is not here to snap tourist photos or meet drinking partners. They are clustered around something oddly shaped, tall — and unmistakably pink.

It's a large, inflatable penis being wielded by a group of twentysomething women cavorting on the street. And no one is the least bit offended. Not the elderly couples, who walk this city arm in arm. Not the young families, who push strollers late into the night.

This is, after all, Barcelona. Heady and hedonistic, it's a city that exudes a naughty joie de vivre and flips a finger at conventional rules: Sunbathers go bottomless (and, of course, topless); couples think nothing of putting the whole Kama Sutra on display in open plaças; even church architecture can seem erotic.

All of which makes it the perfect horny backdrop for Woody Allen's new film. Opening this Friday, Vicky Christina Barcelona revolves around a painter (Javier Bardem) who beds not one but three women — his tempestuous ex-wife (Penelope Cruz), a soon-to-be-married American (Rebecca Hall) and her free-spirited best friend (Scarlett Johansson). And, yes, the love polygon also extends to two starlets necking.

But perhaps calling Barcelona a mere backdrop to this sultry action isn't quite right. Like Fellini's Rome, the Catalan capital is a central character in Allen's film. As he told the crowds at Cannes, Vicky Christina Barcelona is his "love letter to Barcelona, and from Barcelona to the world."

Smitten with the Catalonian capital since a visit nearly two decades ago, the 71-year-old director jumped at the opportunity to film there after being wooed by Spain's giant production company Mediapro and being handed a sizable cheque from local taxpayers.

And while some local filmmakers decried public funds going to a foreign production, supporters contend that Allen's movie is the biggest plug for Barcelona since the 1992 Olympics. "It's a huge advertisement for the city that will be seen all over the world," said the city's mayor.

The film certainly mines a number of tourist clichés. There are close-ups of the Gaudi church I climbed up, shots of Las Ramblas and enough scenes of the teeming Mercat de la Boqueria to make world-weary viewers choke on their cava.

But then Allen takes those postcard images further. He gets that Barcelona is joyously heterodox. It's a place where relationships can't be contained by mere etiquette. Dinner and evening strolls are rarely before 10 p.m. And guidebook stops aren't just a safe flirtation with foreignness — they can be opening lines for deeper seductions.

At least for those travellers willing to flirt back. "Ah, Barcelona," Javier Bardem sighs. "It's one of my favourite places. But perhaps more than any other town in the world, it pays to know people who can show you the little squares, which are not very big and set in narrow, old alleyways, where you can go in a quiet mood and simply soak up the surroundings."

Coming from the 39-year-old Spaniard — set to become the poster boy for this city, though he was born in the Canary Islands — this is advice I take seriously. But it is my first trip to Barcelona, so I have only friendly strangers to rely on for tips on sun-drenched plazas and sexy bars.

And my own feet. As National Geographic Traveler has noted, the city is best absorbed by "dancing slowly with her, like an elusive mistress. You have to seduce her to find her secrets." So I walk; non-stop, from dawn well past dark.

Mind you, walking (let alone other forms of seduction) can feel like a chore in midsummer. So when the heat — a staggering 40 degrees — gets overwhelming, most locals head to the port.

Some put down their towels at Hotel Arts. The 483-room high-rise is a mainstay for international jet setters (Allen's entourage stayed here) and the terrace pool, right beside Frank Gehry's giant bronze fish sculpture, is prime real estate for visitors who want to get out of their rooms.

But the scene at that tony outpost is nothing compared with the beach below, where thousands of glistening bodies romp along five kilometres of sand during the day and line up (along with soccer players and models) at hot spots such as Bestial at night.

In fact, while art critic Robert Hughes has said the key to the Catalan character is the interplay between seny, usually translated as common sense, and rauxa, or uncontrollable emotion, I don't see much of the former.

At night, in particular, this city is hot. Steamy hot. Revellers toss back absinthe at tobacco-stained places such as Bar Marsella (shown in Allen's movie) and sip cool cava in the sleekly styled lobby bar at Hotel Omm. And they don't get home until well past 2, 3 — even 4 a.m.

(As for Allen, to unwind after long days of shooting he played jazz at the bar inside Casa Fuster — a five-star hotel designed by Lluis Domenech i Montane. His signature "look": a floppy green fishing hat.)

However they spend their wee hours, though, partiers all hit the sack well-fed: Food is foreplay for a night on the town, and every block, every plaza, has at least half a dozen good restaurants, with tables that offer dining by moonlight to the noise of clubs and high-spirited gossip.

One favourite strip is the Passeig de Gracia, the main thoroughfare in Eixample. It's popular among film scouts because of its treasure trove of Gaudi landmarks, but it's also lined with the most talked-about new restaurants.

For example, Tapas 24, as its name suggests, is known for to-die-for tapas. At the top of the list: Bikini Comerç, a grilled ham and cheese sandwich with a truffle and just the right amount of salt. A simple pleasure, in other words, with a bit of added sex appeal.

GET IN THE MOOD — GET LOST

But Barcelona's unique brand of sex appeal isn't just the way the city eats — or dances or struts. As everyone keeps telling me, it's the way people surrender to the moment. And the best way to experience that is to meander, to get a little lost.

Even Jordan Susselman, a young San Diego transplant who runs a tour company called Hi. This is Barcelona, suggests a fairly aimless approach to the city. That way, he says, you might stumble onto summer delights such as horchata (tiger nut milk) or discover the joy of El Raval — where things change from one street to the next, one doorway to the next.

Not all that long ago, Raval — named for an Arabic word meaning "that which is on the outside" — was a haven for heroin dealers and prostitutes. And Susselman says tourists should still hang on to their handbags at night.

But edge is also giving way to gentrification, to a gallery district whose nexus is MACBA, Barcelona's contemporary art museum, as well as scrappy spaces that share rent with hair salons, record stores and fashion designers.

Barcelona Bohos flock here for meals, too, to cafés such as El Jardi, located in the courtyard of a former hospital, or to the tiny eatery Inopia, where Albert Adrià (his big brother is the chef behind El Bulli) serves sardine sandwiches and ham croquettes.

One of Susselman's favourite watering holes is here as well. At the Bar Bodega Montse — whose dusty walls are lined with photos of 100-year-old city landmarks — you can bring in your own wine bottle and fill it from one of four wooden kegs.

(It's no Dominio de Pingus, but as Susselman says, the price is right.)

Another option is to follow the tourist trail and wander through the Barri Gottic. Visitors flock here to roam Carrer Banys Nous, a banana-shaped street lined with antique stores, each with their own specialty. One sells tin signs, another — housed in a former brothel — supplied the lace for the film Titanic.

There's also Caelum. It sells delectable cookies and pastries made by monks and nuns from across the country. Go into the basement (only open in the afternoon) and sip icy espresso under medieval arches that frame an ancient Jewish bath.

Or try Belgious, which sells ice cream in mind-boggling flavours, such as curry (ugh), red wine and Roquefort cheese.

And don't miss Carrer Petritxol: The Gottic's first pedestrian-only street, it's home to some of the city's most established galleries — including Sala Parés, where passionate Picasso (who lived nearby) had his first one-man show.

BARDEM'S BARCELONA

And what about those Bardem-worthy plaças? Those "little squares" he recommends?

For that, amble over to Gracia. Once a working class village, the neighbourhood has retained a small-town charm — and more than half a dozen squares where Catalans put up their feet after hitting the area's art-house cinema or before a night out.

One of the busiest is Plaça de Rius Taulet, overrun on balmy evenings by lovers, children and dogs.

As for Bardem himself, on breaks from shooting sultry sex scenes with his leading ladies, the Oscar-winning actor hung out in El Born, where he rented an apartment during the six weeks of filming Vicky Christina Barcelona.

Like Raval, this is an area where Susselman says you "wouldn't take your kids" a decade ago, but today it's chockablock with artists' studios and galleries like Iguapop — a showcase for some of Spain's most unconventional artists.

Which sounds cool. Then again, Barcelona can be a fickle mistress when it comes to trendy neighbourhoods. Sure, El Born may have been desirable, what, a year ago? Two? But too many suitors can be cloying — too many galleries and boutiques and bistros can take away an area's mysterious allure.

Or maybe where you go in this city really doesn't matter all that much.

If you wander with an open mind — whether into some Gaudi monument or along the beach — you may just run into some spirited women waving a giant phallus for the crowds. Or witness another moment of wild emotion, of rauxa.

Gayle MacDonald is a feature writer for The Globe and Mail's Review section. Woody Allen's film Vicky Christina Barcelona will be in theatres Aug. 15.