“Manifestation“

My flights from Phoenix to Barcelona went seamlessly. I only had a short stop in Calgary where the cowboy hats let me know the Calgary Stampede was around the corner and I managed to get a decent sleep on the long leg over to Europe.

It took me all of fifteen minutes to get through immigration and customs then bus it over to Terminal 1 to get into position to meet Mum. She was due to come in an hour after me and I needn’t have rushed over, she landed half an hour late and got stuck in the immigration queue for a good hour. I talked to Dad to kill the time, then scouted out Europe’s version of Uber, called Cabify and picked up a few tourist maps.

After seeing about a thousand people come through the doors to greet their loved one, I saw my loved one and shot my hands into the air. I could see the relief in Mum’s face when she saw me. She’s been thoroughly nervous about traveling by herself but now that she’d found me, the pressure was off and she knew it.

Once I was done shedding a few tears and getting a big hug, we went and found our ride and got straight into ooh’ing and aah’ing from the back seat as we drove the twenty minutes into Barcelon’s Gothic Quarter. Already we’d seen a cemetery that was more impressive than anything we had in our youthful countries of residence.

We were horrified by the amount of people out and about when we got near the ocean and braced ourselves for the crowds that we could expect over the next few weeks. Our AirBnb host had been very communicative and he was up on the balcony waiting for us as we wandered around the narrow alleyways looking for a door with a #2 on it.

Alex welcomed us upstairs and didn’t take much of our time, going through his speel quickly knowing that we were keen to start our holiday in peace. The apartment was lovely with gorgeous hardwood floors, exposed brick and doors that opened out onto smoker’s balconies that looked out into the alley below. Another win by the tour guide!

I was grateful to have a shower and excited for such a novelty after a solid month in the van where I limit my water use. Pure bliss! Mum didn’t need one thanks to her business class experience. It was getting close to 5pm but we didn’t want to stay put, we had Barcelona to see!

We meandered out of the apartment and I figured out how to lock the door using brute force. Without any plan, we wandered towards the water. It was nice catching up with Mum as we did so, finding out the details of her Emirates flights and the stress she let go of when she saw me to meet her at the end of her travels.

The marina was busy and we soon found out that Barcelona was to be the host of America’s Cup in a few months. Of course that meant the Anghi Red Bull team had set up shop here. Their boats looked proper fast and I wondered if the great Adrian Newey had anything to do with the design.

We were soon looking for a drink – essential when trying to reset your body clock after changing time zones – and we found one at a strip of restaurants right by the harbor. There were plenty of goings on to watch but the security guard doing constant laps in his golf cart was the highlight. I even got a wave out of him during one pass.

Next up was food and we were both starting to fade so we didn’t wander very far. We ventured further towards the water and were enticed into a restaurant with a free table right out front. The front man sat us down and I asked him to fill us in on the police activity we’d seen on our walk down. Half of the busy road was already blocked off by police vans and bikes but he was none the wiser. He promised me he’d find out.

After getting our drinks (non-alcoholic this time), our man told us there would be a manifestation. There will be thousands of people but we were ok to stay where we were. A manifestation? You mean a festival? No. A protest? Ah yes, a protest! At that point, another waiter piped up and said it was a protest for Palestine. It was almost a relief since they happen so often.

A few minutes later, the mob arrived with a big banner up front and signs dispersed throughout the crowd. They were quiet at first, then some chants broke out, then the police were nearer to us.

Then I saw one of the cardboard signs above the heads. It read “TOURISTS GO HOME”. Huh? There was a New Zealand family next to us and they’d stood up with us to watch what was happening and we realized that this was about people like us at the same time. A guy then approached our restaurant to warn us that they’d been attacking tourists in restaurants just up the street.

The wait staff couldn’t have been nicer. They recommended we move to the back of the restaurant and when the water guns came out and we heard a bang, we were gone. A group of women had small water pistols and weren’t shy in shooting streams of water at people sitting having their dinner. It wasn’t very nice and Mum was more than a little nervous.

I chatted with the Kiwis a little, then we had our dinner in the back of the restaurant, complete with our drinks that they’d been thoughtful enough to bring inside. The water guns were the worst of it and we were grateful it hadn’t been worse, but it wasn’t a great feeling. Thankfully the mob went as soon as they’d come and the street was soon empty of cops and back to normal. We paid up and walked the ten minutes back to base. You’d never know anything had happened.

We’d both hit the wall but I managed a tiny bit of F1 before we got into bed, happy to be safe and sound.

Free Stuff Sunday

We were up pretty early and our first mission was to get some groceries. Mum already had a long list and we hadn’t even been in Europe for a day! A short walk through the alleys of the Gothic Quarter took us to a small supermarket and we got everything we needed. I then caught up with F1 over a yogurt and fruit breakfast while Mum started perusing the tourist maps I’d picked up at the airport.

We knew we’d be on for some walking and today we got straight into it. We left the apartment about 10am and just started wandering. We’d barely made it a hundred meters before we came across the Santa Maria Del Mar (St. Mary of the Sea), a gorgeous church nestled in between stone walls.

The church was fronted by a courtyard complete with cafe tables and a huge open door. We walked in and admired the stained glass and quiet atrium.

I love the hush the you hear and feel when you first walk into an old church. I don’t need religion to admire the architecture and I love the feeling that “faith” brings to a building – that it is a place for quiet.

Back into the sunshine and we wound our way through dozens of alleys, losing our sense of direction constantly. There were tourists abounds but last night’s experience meant that when a pair of guys sitting at a cafe table struck up a conversation as we were window shopping, I wasn’t my normal chatty self because they seemed like locals and so I defaulted to think that they hated us. When one of them asked for my number, I politely declined and we moved on.

We admired everything as we walked, finding it hard to keep our eyeballs pointing forwards. We were either looking up at a church spire, or looking sideways at delicious baked goods on display in shop windows.

We found the Catedral d’Barcelona in amongst the narrow walkways and carried on past the crowds into a quieter part of the Gothic Quarter and generally walked in the direction of MontJuic.

MontJuic is a fortress/castle that rests on a hill to the west of Barcelona so we knew there’d be some incline and when we found steps, we knew we were on the right track. With Mum still getting used to living to vertigo, I wasn’t sure how she’s go, but she just held the handrail and made steady progress as we climbed.

There were others going the same way as us so I figured I wasn’t leading us too far up the garden path but when we started climbing stairs ridden with graffiti next to an old concrete structure, I started to lose a bit of faith. What a surprise it was when we came to the top at a street with a cafe that overlooked a local pool and the whole of Barcelona.

Wow, the view was stunning and the size of the city literally scared me. I couldn’t believe living in such a built-up space that extended as far as the eye could see. There weren’t any particularly tall buildings that stood out above the rest but the apartment blocks were packed in so tightly, you couldn’t see a single street and not many trees. This was a huge city.

What a great setting for a swimming pool! We learned that this was the site of the diving competition in the 1992 Olympics and what a spectacular place to watch some sport. We sat at the laidback cafe and shared a Coke and some chips to give an excuse to stay and admire the view. Mum needed a chance to catch her breath and within five minutes of sitting down, about a hundred other people had the same idea and filled the cafe to the brim.

Feeling re-energized, we carried on upwards and across the street to catch the Parc de Montjuic Gondola to the top of the hill. Only a twenty minute ride, it was well worth the 12 Euro ticket and the short queue we had to stand in.

The views were stunning, it meant no more hill climbing and Mum got to ride a Gondola which is a novelty for her more than me.

After taking a turn halfway up the hill it was time to get off and I felt naked not having my snowboard to carry off with me.

As we got off, we saw the castle of Montjuic right in front of us. What a fortress and I fell in love with the entrance. There were people milling about everywhere but that didn’t matter. It almost made us feel safer knowing that we were in a dedicated tourist area.

We wandered around the perimeter for a bit to take in the ocean views and took note of the boats currently in the port. They were much bigger than the boat we’d be embarking on in a few days.

Inside the fort, we were stoked to learn that entry was free since it was the first Sunday of the month but they still gave us tickets and clipped them for procedure’s sake.

I was blown away by this castle. I loved it’s simple angles and brickwork that made it look and feel impenetrable. I was also stoked to learn that it was one of the places involved in coming up with the “meter” which is one ten-millionth of the earth’s quadrant. That got the engineer in me all excited.

We wandered all around the fort, peering through portholes, inspecting the gaol cells and admiring the views of the city from a new point of view. It was still scary big.

From the top courtyard, we’d looked out to sea and seen the cable car that ran down to the ocean and thought we’d head towards that. As we left the fort, I found us a stairway that took us in that direction and we enjoyed a lovely meandering trail that took us down the hill.

It was beyond 3pm at this point and we were starving for lunch so after giving a guy and his son directions to the beach cable car, we enjoyed the downhill stroll to a cafe right atop the cable station.

There was a table right at the railing with our names on it and we soaked it up. Yet another spot with a view! We rehydrated and shared meals enjoying the sea breeze and loving the entertainment of watching a cruise ferry tie up, let his ramps down and let off hundreds of cars and trucks.

We had a quick wander through the gardens of the fancy Miramar hotel where I fell in love with the beautiful trees with so much of their roots above the ground. At the other end of the peninsula we found another restaurant with way more class than the one we’d eaten at. Perfect.

Having seen the people in the cable car packed in like sardines, we decided we’d much rather walk so we continued on our way back down to street level. It was nice to walk past the monuments and landmarks we’d seen from on high. It was a perfect way to get to know the city a little better.

We walked along the water, past the maritime museum in its beautiful old architecture then the Columbus monument where said man is pointing to something out at sea but who knows what. Mum compared it to Trafalgar Square in London and she wasn’t wrong since this statue was complete with lions but it was missing the water feature.

That marked the end of our day and we were utterly exhausted. Having had such a late lunch, we were happy to just head home and have a couple of slices of toast for dinner. I was happy to have some F1 to relax to and was starting to wonder when I would get time to catch up on Tour de France!

Take me to the Zoo Mum!

When Mum took charge of the map late last night, she found the zoo and was immediately keen. Apparently it’s something that she really enjoys which was a surprise to me and she was just as surprised that I didn’t mind going along. Never having someone to go with was the problem so she hadn’t been to one in years. I’m always up to see some animals, no matter where I am.

We had a lazy start to the morning and spoke to Dad for a bit over breakfast then left the apartment around 10:30am. With the sun staying out so late, we were gradually shifting our schedule.

Meandering as usual with some vague idea of where we were going, we ended up in a big park and ducked into a greenhouse for a look since of course, it was architecturally beautiful.

There was another pretty wood and brick shade structure housing palms and other tropical plants and that was worth a look too.

Ignoring signs that lead to the zoo, we started heading toward a building with golden statues on top and happened upon a parliament building with gorgeous gardens.

There was just too much to see and when the weather was fine, there was nothing stopping us and it was too early in the trip for our legs to be tired.

As we left parliament and the nearby church, we found ourselves at the entrance to the zoo, thoroughly perplexed at how we’d gotten there but happy to take that as a win.

The zoo was great. It made me feel like a kid again, starting at the insectarium, moving through the bird houses and then onto the bigger animals.

Mum was loving it and seemed in awe of most creatures big and small.

The big animals made me skip a beat despite them being behind motes of water or fencing. It just doesn’t seem right to watch a lioness lazing under a tree or a cheetah sleeping in the dirt or a brown bear cooling himself off in a manufactured river.

We finished things off with prairie dogs, penguins and an uninteresting climb to the top of the vulture tower. Thanks Mum for taking me to the zoo!

Pretty much ready for a rest, we walked through our morning park and continued beyond it to Barcelona’s L’Arc de Triomf. It’s a nice structure, but in reality it’s a mis-spelled, car-less rip-off of France’s real thing.

We posted up at a cafe on the corner of the busy intersection near the arc and watched the chaos both with selfie-stickers and the endless traffic.

After a drink, that was us done for the day. We were tempted to go find those golden statues we’d followed earlier but we were buggered after all the zoo-strolling. Since the Barcelona Cathedral was on our way and very hard to miss, we stopped for some admiration and a quick wander through the markets.

We still didn’t get home until about 5pm and I overshot our return trying to wing it through the alleys. Like yesterday, I had to whip out my phone to get through the last few blocks.

My tummy started grumbling not long after we got back so we were out again looking for some tapas. We didn’t go far, stopping at the first hole-in-the-wall with a free table out front. The other table was soon occupied by an Aussie couple after we caught them admiring our Pina Coladas. The food was great and the drinks cold. We gave up our table to a pair of older gay kiwis who chatted with us a bit before we called it a night.

The British Grand Prix was a brilliant wind down and it was the first time in history I’d beaten Nick to the checkered flag since I was in a similar time zone.

Busturistic

Mum’s legs were officially tired. We had mixed information from our devices about how far we’d walked but by my count it was 13 miles on our first day and 9 on the second so we were due for a sit down.

We’d stopped in at an info spot by the Barcelona Cathedral on our way home, snagged a Busturistic map and were happy with the 33 euro price tag. After brekkie, we were out the door knowing exactly where we were going and saw that there was the blue company and the red company offering tours for the same price but with slightly different routes. Blue was our original picked and I convinced Mum we should stick with it when a red bus turned up first. It would end up being a good decision.

We got on and stayed on a good while, driving along the waterfront, then through the newer part of town and past the famous Arc to Placé Catalunya. It was a huge square with people milling about all over but the lack of water in the Magic Fountain meant it was a bit underwhelming.

Walking north up a cafe-lined street, we stopped for a coffee enjoying more traffic shenanigans, then we got into Gaudi territory for the first time. We knew nothing about him but it soon became obvious he was an architect with a very, very distinct style.

All architects probably think that about themselves, but this was different and only a taste of what was yet to come.

Back on the bus and we were off to Gaudi’s pride and joy – his life’s work – the Sagrada Familia. We only knew about this because Deb had it on her wish list of things to do while in Barcelona. Wow, did she know what was up, this place was beyond special.

We’d seen this structure from afar from the many viewpoints we’d had of the city but it did not prepare us for the Basilica that stood before us. Not only did it tower over everything in its vicinity, it had features that would be more suited to the statue in someone’s living room, where details could be admired close up. Those sorts of features stood atop spires and nestled between columns where a close look would never be possible.

There were words and letters hidden amongst the stones; sculptures of animals, foods and people described who knows what; and the angles at which columns rose towards the sky were unique not only in their carvings, but in the way the offered structural support.

Of course there was scaffolding and a couple of cranes accompanying the building but that was to be expected. Something this big was bound to be under persistent renovation and maintenance.

We meandered through the thousands (I’m not exaggerating) of tourists craning their necks skywards and started on our way up Gaudi Avenue towards the Sant Pau Hospital.

This had been my pick from the discount book the Busturistic folks gave to us and so we handover a dozen euros each to have a wander inside the campus that had served as Barcelona’s sole hospital for over 500 years.

There were multiple buildings of a specific type of architecture that didn’t suggest in the slightest that this place served as a hospital. Again, minute detailing seemed out of place with mosaics on high ceilings and different colored tiles adorning the domed roofs.

Today’s hospitals were lucky to have anything in or on them that wasn’t some shade of white or a light color. This was different, this seemed like a place you came to have fun or socialize, not succumb to illness!

We read many fascinating stats about the place, its history and how it served the people of Barcelona throughout war, famine and even into the modern age.

Our necks were starting to ache with all the looking up. After the Sagrada Familia and now this detailed mosaicking on the roof, it was a surprise we hadn’t tripped over our own feet yet.

I couldn’t help but think of Dad in a place like this. He despised tiling the floors and walls of a bathroom, but this was a whole different league. Some of the tiles placed on the ceilings were smaller than my pink finger nail!

I was impressed with myself for choosing this place to wander through since Mum is a mosaic and she was able to see just how far she could go with it. She said she would need to lift her game big time.

We were both grateful to get back on the bus and rest a while but my jaw got a workout when we drove past the Barcelona football stadium. It was the biggest in Europe but when we got there it barely looked like a stadium because there was so much construction going on. They were going to make it even bigger! The Europeans do like their soccer.

On our way to the next stop, I was happy with our decision to go with the blue bus and not red. A red stop had a line about 100 people long waiting in the sun for a bus that wasn’t packed to go by. It didn’t look fun.

Need to change from one bus route to another, we debarked and found a focaccia at an Italian restaurant that was near-closing. It was nearly 4pm and we were desperate and pleasantly surprised at how much the small sandwiches filled us up.

As we neared our bus stop a full bus went past and that meant the next one was empty so we were chuffed with our window seats. No more getting off an exploring and there was no need to, the views were good enough from our spots on the top deck.

We rode through Place d’Espana that offered great views up the hill of the History Museum, then on through the 1992 Olympic Park and our old digs at Montjuic that we’d already thoroughly explored. It was a nice feeling getting to know the city a little more each day so that we recognized parts of it.

Back where we’d started, we went for a drink down by the water and by accident, sat at the same restaurant we’d been at our first night. The Aperol Spritz special was just the ticket and us lightweights topped the drinks up with Sprite to make them a little sweeter and weaker.

Mum was convinced she wouldn’t leave the apartment again if we ducked home before dinner so we got straight to the point, wandering the alleys of the Gothic Quarter until we found a free table. It didn’t take long and we had a scrumptious vegetarian dinner watching the crowds return from their days at the beach and locals walk their dogs on the cobblestones.

Sand & Symphony

With Deb arriving in the afternoon, we had the morning to kill so we figured it was a perfect time to hit the beach. After breakfast and already dressed in our swimmers, we marched off. We were towel-less since Mum didn’t want to break the AirBnb rule of not taking the bath towels out of the apartment.

We walked along protest avenue and things were feeling familiar now. Wanting to get to the sand as soon as possible, we dipped down an alleyway away from the restaurants and came out into bright sunshine and a big blue sea.

After crossing the foreshore walkway, we had our feet in the sand and meandering up the beach. There were many a tanned European body in front of us and I couldn’t believe how their skin could stand up to so much sun.

We had to bat away the wandering vendors trying to rent us an umbrella or sell us a blanket. Even after posting up in the shade of a lifeguard hut, they still thought we’d need more shade. No thanks!

Not wanting to leave our bags unattended, Mum went first, then it was my turn to get into the water. The temperature was lovely, just cool enough to be a relief from the heat with no shivering. The water was fairly clear and the further I dove into it, the cooler it became.

Back at the lifeguard hut, it was coffee time and we didn’t have to go far, there was a nice cafe with a deck over the sand where we hung out a while, me still in my bikini as I drip-dried.

Still in wandering mode, I put my dress on and we walked all the way down the beach to the “W” building. We could see a stage was being set up at that end of the beach and when I read a sign about an orchestra playing, I was stoked to see it would be happening tomorrow and the next night!

We explored the open area in front of the big “W”, getting a good look at the port from sea level and laughing at the length of helicopter tour rides that might have lasted a total of ten minutes.

The heat emanating from the concrete made it plenty hot enough to want another swim so we dipped back to the beach and did the same routine a second time. I loved the feeling of being under the salt water. It had been over a year since I’d swum in the ocean.

It was time for me to get to the airport now so we walked straight back to the apartment where we had leftover pizza for lunch then I departed into the alleys solo while Mum posted up for a relaxing afternoon.

I felt like a local now moving through the alleys with a purpose towards Placé d’Catalunya where I caught the airport bus to Terminal 1. My timing was impeccable, I was stationed in the arrivals hall about ten minutes before I saw Deb walk through.

I offered up an Uber but she was happy to take the bus so we ventured back the way I’d come. Of course a bus was just leaving so we waited half an hour for the next one only to be told we had to get on downstairs. Fail. Oh well, that meant Deb could grab a coffee on our way down. As we got our tickets, we were told no food or drinks were allowed on the bus. Not a fail, I hid the coffee in my bag, managing to keep it upright during loading.

On the bus, we caught up on Deb’s travel events and I felt a little like a tour guide pointing out the landmarks we’d seen the previous day. Back at Placé d’Catalunya, I had work to do to fix my first travel-agent failure and Deb was right there with me for the trepidation and excirement. Having looked that morning for timed-entry tickets for the Sagrada Familia, I’d discovered they were sold out for a week. I was letting the team down since it was on Deb’s wish list but I was determined to put things right.

When I was waiting for Deb at the airport, I’d chatted a lady at the tourist office and after a detailed conversation with her colleague in Spanish, she instructed me to go to a specific information desk under Placé d’Catalunya and I might have some luck. And so, we found an escalator going underground and found a lovely lady behind an information desk. After many clicks on her computer with a furrowed brow, she looked up and asked if Friday at 1:30pm would be ok. Yes please! I didn’t celebrate until I paid and received official-looking printed tickets complete with highlighted bits and a stamp, then I was happy. We’d be going inside Gaudi’s invention!

With that to look forward to, we both enjoyed the twenty minute stroll back to our apartment via the Barcelona Cathedral.

Mum was waiting for us up on the balcony having followed our progress using Find My on her phone and the Mums got straight into catching up after Deb had her (quick) tour of our digs. I did a quick run to the supermarket while Deb had a shower, then we were off to the marina for a drink. We figured Deb might as well have a similar first-night experience as us, but without a protest this time.

Next up was food so we wandered down towards the beach for dinner. We found a spot offering Asian fusion and tapas that was on a busy intersection so gave us entertainment and it was close enough to the water to give us an ocean breeze.

Deb had more energy than we’d done on our first night so after dinner we crossed the road to put our feet in the sand. We pointed down towards the stage and then, was that an orchestra we heard? It was! We walked down to the stage and were thrilled to find that rehearsal was in progress. What a wonderful experience standing only meters away from the stage with a full orchestra playing.

Rehearsal didn’t mean they were going easy. The conductor was full of energy, the big screens were on and the sound was turned up. The choir belted and I loved that everyone was in the Summer-wear instead of the formal black slacks and dresses. This was music at its best, especially when they broke into “O, Fortuna!”

The choir was let go about halfway through the set, then after an hour, it was all over. I was buzzing, as were the Mums, what a cool night out by the water in Barcelona! After clearing the sand out of our shoes, we were on our way “home”.

Back at the apartment, I couldn’t believe that Deb had enough energy to watch Tour De France with me, but she stayed awake for the whole stage.

Montserrat

We had a nice, late start to our day. I feel like Mum and I had done so much walking around that we were having to limit ourselves and that sort of pace suited Deb just fine. Yesterday’s ticket experience had scared me so before we left, I bought our tickets online for our trip up to the mountain monastery of Montserrat.

I had planned to take us to Placé d’Espana by public transport, but everyone was up for a wander so we took the slow and scenic route. We wound our way through alleys to begin with, then came out into a square where there was a big bustling market and so we walked through. I’d never seen so many dead fish. It made the fruit stalls less inviting thanks to the smell.

Everyone was ready for a sit-down by the time we reached Placé d’Espana. I found the Montserrat information booth easily enough and exchanged our vouchers for tickets and found out the train schedule which had been impossible to find online. We posted up at our platform and twenty minutes later, were on a train out of the city and into the countryside.

It was a nice ride and it was nice to see the other side of the mountain that Barcelona backs onto. While still built up in places, there was definitely more green and a few dirt roads. In the 1.5 hours that we were on the train we didn’t see a single house. I don’t know that they exist in this part of Spain. If you want a roof over your head, it has to be shared with other people.

Off the regular commuter train, we got onto the “rack-n-rail” train that would take us up to Montserrat. We’d seen glimpses of the small village up against the cliffs from the trains and the ride up was so steep that the rack was definitely justified.

We sat on the left side of the train to enjoy the views down into the valley below and twenty minutes later, we were in the monastery and suitably saw a pair of nuns walk past us as soon as we alighted from the train.

Where to start? We didn’t really know so we just turned left and found ourselves at the Basilica. We saw queues so turned immediately left and found an avenue of candles set into a rocky corridor and the quiet that automatically comes with flames lit for those loved and lost. Deb lit a candle for Anthony therefore making it an even more special place.

Back at the entrance to the Basilica, we picked the short queue to go into the church and here Deb said a prayer for her son as I sat next to her on a pew. Sitting in the gorgeous atrium, we figured out what the longer queue had been for – to visit and touch Our Lady of Montserrat. She sat vigil with a child on her lap, holding a ball that everyone wants to put their hands on. The black coating of the sculpture had ben rubbed off leaving exposed bronze.

Lunch time now so we wandered back through the courtyard for a sandwich then back the way we came to the museum. It was getting hot so we needed a reprieve from the sun and we were surprised to find ourselves admiring art instead of learning about the monastery!

The museum had works from Picasso, Monet and other greats, not that I’d have known. They were all easy to admire and some had to most amazing details. I was blown away that these painters could recreate the image of a person, especially in a setting where they couldn’t have posed for an extended period.

The day was getting away from us and we still had two funicular rides to take advantage of! These were much shorter and steeper than our original rack-n-rail up the mountain and they were engineering marvels. I was stunned to see a group of climbers get onto the cart in front of us, complete with ropes slung over their backpacks. Of course the cliffs were amazing, but to climb on them?

We rode up the steep slope and could see into the neighboring valley. Seeking views of the monastery from up high, we ventured a short ways up but the basilica and its surrounding buildings were hidden by the cliffs.

It was a beautiful area and there were trails extending in every direction and most of them had a handful of people on them. There were smaller churches nestled below cliffs, alters hidden in rock and cross perched on anything that slightly resembled a peak.

I was grateful for my binoculars because I could see a house built right into the rock at the base of a cliff. Perhaps for a priest or another person of the faith? There was just so much wonder to this place.

We made our way down on the funicular again and found that the other one leading slightly down the mountain had just finished its last ride. Oh well, that was really only a gateway to another trail system so we hadn’t missed much.

We wandered over to the lower part of the monastery for another look into the valley and I noticed a hostel on our way. Hmm, seemed a strange place for that, but then we saw a sign explaining the massive trail network surrounding us and we were on a section of the El Camino de Santiago. This is a trail that leaves from the Pyrenees mountains in France to the western side of Spain and was a journey Mum and I had ideas to do a few years back. Well, we were on it now!

Having kept our eyes peeled for climbers on the rock ever since running into that group, we finally spotted a party on the cliffs right under what looked like a tough roof. I’m sure they had an amazing view.

With that, our day at Montserrat was done and we were on the 6:15pm funicular and train home. There was a bigger crowd than on the way in but we made ourselves comfortable. Mum and I admired the scenery while Deb napped. Considering she’d only flown in yesterday, she was doing great.

We made use of the metro pass included with our ticket and popped above ground not far from our apartment. Mum and Deb had already hashed out the dinner plan so we stopped in at the bakery and wine shop we could see from our balcony and stocked up with salami, cheese and bread for a small dinner. It was a great way to start our wind down. To finish it, Deb and I caught up on Tour de France while Mum did her Wordle and journal.

Antoni Gaudi

With the Sagrada Familia booked in for 1:30pm, we had plenty of time to make our way over there so aimed for a late start. I booked yet more timed-entry tickets, this time for Park Guell, then we were out the door at 10am, so not really that late.

It was the usual story, we had every intention of taking a bus to the grand basilica, but we kept seeing interesting stuff so we stayed on foot. It meant Deb got to see the gardens and greenhouses we’d wandered through on our zoo day and that we could take a photo in front of the non-Arc-de-Triomf with Emmi’s drawing that she gave us.

We’d been meandering for over an hour when we became overdue for a coffee so we were on the hunt. We found the most amazing cafe called Bloom and they had everything we wanted in beautiful stoneware crockery with messages hidden in the ceramic. Mum’s avocado toast was devine and my Pitaya bowl was as delicious as it looked.

Now we were ready to get to the Sagrada Familia. We’d ended up walking the whole way there and it was nice to approach it from afar at street level. It seemed even more grandiose than before and I was so excited to go inside of it!

Another photo for Emmi since the basilica featured on her drawing. It was just past 1pm when we showed up so we figured we’d try get in early and we were ushered straight in. I got the audioguide going on my app and within minutes, I learned that the scaffolding and cranes were not due to restoration but construction. The first brick had been laid in 1882 and the bloody thing still wasn’t finished!

Antoni Gaudi was the genius behind it all and although he had other projects throughout the city of Barcelona, this was his life’s work.

As we moved inside the building, we discovered even more wonder than what was on display outside. Not only was it amazing to look at, but fascinating to learn about. The interior pillars were different colors because they were made of different materials – some stronger to support more weight at the center of the temple.

The atrium was designed to have the feel of a forest canopy with light streaming in through gaps in leaves. The stained glass windows had the colors of sunset on the west side and early morning blues and greens on the east to complement the sun’s movements.

Each window had the name of a monastery or church in a different part of the world to signify the togetherness that faith brings. Montserrat was a prominent name among them.

The tallest tower, the one to honor Jesus Christ which was still under construction, will eventually stand 172.5 meters tall, which is just shy of the height of nearby Mont Juic because according to Gaudi, man’s creation should pay homage to nature by not striving to out-do it.

Everywhere you looked inside this building, there was something to drop your jaw at. There was meaning in every little feature and brilliant engineering behind the beauty.

Having separated as we wondered through the great halls, we came together again to look into the crypt under the main atrium where Antoni Gaudi was laid to rest, then moved outside to admire the Passion facade together.

I fed pieces of information to Mum who wasn’t listening to the audioguide and so was able to explain what some of the sculptures represented and that the obtuse angles of the pillars were meant to represent a tensed muscle to show the struggle of Jesus during his crucifixion.

Ready to exit, we found a bathroom, then discovered that there was a whole museum to walk through that had been included in our ticket! In here, it was a huge pleasure to learn more about the building’s design, construction and evolution over the last 140 years.

The methods that Gaudi had used were ahead of his time and it’s as if he knew that this would be a monument that millions of people from all over the world would be visiting. Not only that, but he had enough experience as an architect to develop schemes that would make it harder for the project to be abandoned or scrapped, hence its continued construction today.

I wasn’t surprised we’d spent over two hours in the “building”. Even as we left it, I felt there was more to learn and more to see but we had another Gaudi spectacle to go and see.

This time we did catch a bus and the V17 took us up some very steep hills to the entrance of Park Guell. So named because it was a guy by the name of Guell who’d commissioned the project, this was another of Antoni Gaudi’s creations that was intended to be a small residential community in the hills of Barcelona.

I was happy to be holding tickets when I saw the “sold out” sign at the bustling entrance and we were shoed right into the park. It was nearly 4:30pm and we were all starving hungry, but we had to make our timed entry so drank some water and held out as we beelined it to the Gaudi House which served as a museum about Gaudi’s life.

For an architect of such grandiose designs, the house was quaint and in walking through the few rooms, we learnt that he was a man of habit who never married and died tragically in 1926 when he was hit by a tram and left for dead in the streets, assumed to be homeless.

Exiting the house, we wandered through Gaudi’s small garden where smaller pieces of his work which would normally sit atop turrets or nestled under windows were on display.

We wandered into the large square at the center of the park and debated what this space had been intended for. Despite the grand idea, only two houses were ever built in the park so the “residential” part never took off, but the pathways and gardens intended to connect the houses were in place and marvelous to enjoy.

We decided the square must have been meant for a central gathering place, probably destined to have a fountain of some sort and wow did it offer great views of the city, the Sagrada Familia and the ocean.

The Mums took the low path while I took the high route and the way the rocks had been used to form elevated walkways was just amazing. He made everything look like something out of a fantasy novel in the simplest ways.

Making our way below the square, we found my favorite part of the park. We were underneath the elevated walkways and rocks had been used to form a huge wave on one side. I couldn’t believe how perfect it was and yet how unique every connecting pillar was.

Directly under the square, we walked among the supporting columns that were spaced only a few meters apart with details mosaicking lining the ceiling. All of this was still standing because Gaudi had gotten the structural engineering just right and how had he done that?

I loved that the pillars on the outer-edge were angled inwards because he understood that would give him the lateral force to stop the square from falling over like a rhombus folding up.

From the sea of columns, we made our way past the two guard houses that were full of tourists and out of the park. Thanks Antoni Gaudi for such a wonderful day of exploration and enlightenment.

Next stop, food. We found it and some refreshing drinks at an outdoor setting right by a taxi rank. This meant non-stop entertainment with cabs blocking neighborhood traffic, buses trying to get through and in one case, a person getting out of their car to yell at the person behind him for honking too much.

Ready to be done with walking, we hoofed it only a few blocks to the V17 bus where we sat down to enjoy our ride back to the apartment. The symphony was on at 9pm tonight and I wasn’t sure we had the energy, but the apartment was on the way so we figured we’d freshen up then head down to the beach. Well, after a few stops, we soon realized that everyone in Barcelona was going to the beach for the free show. After we drove past the Arc, the driver quit bothering about stopping at bus stops because there wasn’t a shred of room on the vehicle. I saw many people throw up their hands and give up. Obviously every bus going this direction had been full for a while. We were grateful that we got on when and where we did.

I’d long since given up my seat to an elderly woman and so I called Mum and explained that we might be better off heading straight to the beach because I didn’t like their chances of getting off the bus before that. She agreed and so we followed the crowd, alighting from the bus when everyone else did. It was already past 8pm so we didn’t have long to wait for some music.

It was feeling like familiar territory again and if we hadn’t seen the rehearsal the other night, I’d have wanted to be in the masses with everyone else heading towards the stage. We posted up at a bar to watch the flow of people and the boats bobbing in the water. We had a round and a bit of food then could just hear the music as it started flowing over to us.

Not wanting to get involved with the crowd, we hung out near the repeater TV to enjoy the music and tonight’s set was movie themes by John Williams so there was plenty that we knew.

When everyone’s legs got too tired, we retreated to a bench that afforded us the sound, but no view of the TV. Five minutes later we’d found the ultimate spot that had both and spent the rest of the concert there. The orchestra ended with a Superman number and that was that! It was only a 1.5 hour set and now everyone had to get home!

We were grateful we had only our feet to rely on to get us where we needed to be and we made our way easily. We took the alley-route as we neared our apartment and that meant we could finish off our night with a cone of gelato. Of course, the proper end to the night came after Tour de France. What a massive day. We were ready to get on a cruise boat and chill out for a while.

6 – 12 July, 2024