6 September 2026 · Sara Marugan
«Gelats d'altura»: the wordplay I came across on a walk
This article was machine-translated from Sara's Catalan original. The writing is hers; the translation has not been reviewed by a person. Read the Catalan original →
Walking around Calella de Palafrugell I stopped in front of a sign: l'Enxaneta, gelats d'altura. I stood there a while, and it wasn't for the ice cream.
The enxaneta is the child who crowns the castell, the Catalan human tower. It's the one who goes up last, the one who raises a hand at the very top, the one without whom the castell doesn't count as done. It is, literally, the one who ends up highest of all.
And here's the good bit: «d'altura» means both things at once. It means high up, which is exactly where the enxaneta goes. And it means first-rate, the way in Catalan we talk about un professional d'altura or una conversa d'altura, a professional or a conversation of real quality. Both readings are true at the same time, and neither one has to be forced to fit.
A good piece of wordplay isn't the one that makes you laugh: it's the one that makes you look twice. In this one, the image —a child perched at the top of a castell— and the promise —an ice cream worth having— are said with the same word. And it's said in Catalan, without having to go looking for it in any other language.
I bring it up because some people still think Catalan is only good for the classroom and for paperwork. Well, no: it's good for naming an ice cream shop in a way that stops you in the middle of the street. That is building a country too, and it's done with four well-placed words.
Life's little surprises, walking around Calella de Palafrugell.
