I am sweaty from a long walk and have just had a gin and tonic, so I am in a suitable frame of mind to blog about our family trip. In June, Larry and I took our postponed pre-pandemic trip to Spain. We invited our three children, and when they found out that we were footing the bill, their schedules opened up and they were able to join us.
We all met up at the airport in Barcelona, and were, as usual, mystified by Ellen's airport fit.
Larry had been to Barcelona many times for Mobile World Congress, and was excited for the rest of us to visit it. He booked us an AirBnb right off La Rambla, on a pedestrian street called Carrer del Consell de Cent. It was a great base for city exploration. After dropping our stuff, we headed out to find dinner. I voted for stopping at the first open table we saw, the family waffled, and I settled it by confidently sitting at said table. Some people travel for the food experiences, I usually just want to eat something, anything, immediately.
And here we are, enjoying some sangria and about to eat a lot of tapas. This is when we were still excited about Iberian ham. We also had our first Pan de Coca, a Catalan flat bread rubbed with tomato. We were served this with every meal in Barcelona, and I mean every meal, it even showed up when we ordered coffee and danish or pizza. But at least it wasn't something weird.
One of the first things people ask when you have returned from a trip is, "Did you like the food?", and I would have to say that I Did Not. I was raised by a Texan and an Appalachian and we ate very plain food when I was growing up. I am not an adventurous eater, especially when it comes to seafood, so much of the Spanish cuisine was completely wasted on me. Entire baby squids in vinegar? Octopus with visible tentacles? Raw shellfish? Whole sardines? Snails? No, no, no, no, no and no. I like Iberian ham as much as a normal person should like Iberian ham, but it rapidly became one of the few things I was willing to eat, and I came to loathe it after three weeks. And there is ham in everything. Every sandwich, omelet, salad, soup, stew - ham, ham, ham, ham, ham.
Not to say that I didn't enjoy our trip - we had a great time. Spain is beautiful, the people were friendly, there is great public transportation, plenty of cheap wine, lots of strange Catholic relics, ancient monuments, and interesting architecture. It was great to have three weeks with my whole family. I am just extremely tired of ham.
On our first full day in Barcelona we took the tourist hop-on-hop-off bus, only we never hopped, we just rode the full circuit. Look at these bus-riding beauties.
Then we had an excellent lunch, which I enjoyed because there was a vegetable paella and plenty of mojitos and Aperol spritzes.
In the afternoon we went over to the Maritime Museum of Barcelona, because 1. Larry likes boats, 2. It had air conditioning, 3. I was pretty sure it wouldn't be crowded. It was indeed cool and peaceful, and Ellen took a nice nap on a bench until she was rudely shaken awake by a guard. The museum is located in the Royal Shipyards inside a vast medieval building where sailing vessels were built and then shoved out onto the water. It was easy to imagine people scurrying around to build big sailing ships, particularly since they had dragged one big old ship back in there.
There is a lovely courtyard outside the museum where we made friends with this bird, who, as you can see, has no fear of humans. He went up to every person in the courtyard to see if anyone would feed him, and then spent some time trying to get inside the café.
We ambled down to the seafront and found a beach cafe where we enjoyed cocktails, watching Italian men trying (unsuccessfully) to pick up female tourists, and a beautiful sunset.
We then enjoyed an extended Sunday late lunch with many beverages. Larry's favorite afternoon beverage was beer, Susan and Amy favored Aperol Spritzes, Ellen preferred Agua Mineral con Gas, and my absolute favorite was the Gin Tonic.
The Gin Tonic is what got me through long, hot days of sightseeing. We discovered that when you order a bottle of mineral water in Spain (and Italy, last summer), they just bring you the bottle and some glasses - no ice. The Aperol Spritz comes with *some* ice. But if you want a big drink with lots of ice, the Gin Tonic is for you. The waiter brings you a goblet chock-full of ice and then pours your gin into the glass with great ceremony, and leaves you a tiny bottle of Schweppes tonic water. It is the perfect summer drink.
We set out for Sagrada Familia, but by the time we got there we couldn't go in because we didn't have a reservation. I know, I know. The family was disappointed, but I talked them into continuing for another half hour on the metro to a city park that I had read about in one of my guide books.
I had read many travel guides to Spain, and the park in question was only mentioned in one - the Eyewitness Guide to Barcelona. But in that relatively short book, it was mentioned SIX times. The author clearly really liked Parc del Laberint d'Horta, and I was intrigued. Luckily my family are good sports, so off we went.
There was much interesting signage at the park, including some that indicated that lightning might suddenly zap you in the crotch. Also some which seemed to suggest that you shouldn't bring fish and turtles and dump them into the fountains, which begs the question: has that been enough of a problem for them that they had to make a bunch of signs about it???
I couldn't endure the noise and Amy accompanied me back to the apartment. According to Larry and Susan and Ellen, the gentleman was accomplished at getting everyone in the crowd involved, and he eventually had all the foreigners (most of the crowd) singing and dancing. Not really sorry I missed that, TBH.
The park was originally the grounds of the Desvalls estate, and the labyrinth (hedge maze) and garden pavilions have been there since 1791. The house has fallen apart, but when the city park was created the grounds were extended to include some woodland that has been enhanced with waterfalls, paths, benches, etc.
Here is Amy, our recent classics major, getting excited at being promised some Ionic columns.
Here are some pictures of us messing around in the park.
We had dinner that night in the Obama Pub, which, as it is named after an American president, we foolishly thought might have some American style salads, but no, just more pizza and seafood paella and ham. As we were eating, a musician began to set up behind us and then BAM he began singing and playing at EXTREME volume.
The next morning we began our pilgrimage to Montserrat, a monastery on a mountain an hour outside Barcelona. The name translates as Mont - Mountain and Serrat - Serrated. The monks claim that the mountains were created by "angels with golden saws". Okaaaay. They also say that a statue of Mary holding baby Jesus was "discovered" in 888 in a cave by some locals who were drawn to the cave because there was an angel party going on inside. But that the statue was *actually* carved by Saint Luke in early Christian days and brought to Montserrat by St. Peter. Okaaaay.
At any rate, in 888 a monastery was built on the mountain for the holy statue, on the site of a former Roman temple to Venus. (Love the syncretism!!) It has been a pilgrimage site ever since. The site now contains everything a modern pilgrim needs, such as gift shops and toilets and cafeterias and ice cream stands. It is also easy to get to, as a train goes directly there from Barcelona.
Thanks to my guidebook reading, I knew that to get all the holy goodness from the pilgrimage site, it was necessary to rub Mary's outstretched hand which holds a globe. Imagine my horror when, upon entering the cathedral, I discovered that I had only bought online tickets to visit the cathedral, not to ascend behind the altar to the statue and rub the holy hand!!! I booked it back across the plaza pretty gd quickly, and after arguing with the bored, surly ticket agent for a while about whether I could exchange my tickets, I gave up and just bought five new tickets.
I rushed back to my family with the new set of tickets and said, "Can you believe that the Catholic Church just tricked me into giving them money?" and my three Catholic-school educated children gave me that look that says "That's a clown question, bro". Upon further reflection, I realized that it felt right to be fleeced by the Catholic Church at a pilgrimage site.
In the above photo, you can see the statue in an arched niche above the altar in the cathedral. To get there, you go down a side gallery past a lot of donated art and statuary to an alabaster staircase. There are many signs and people telling you not to take pictures, but I did it anyway.
Just outside the cathedral under the rocks there was a grotto full of hundreds, maybe thousands, of candles. Now this is the part of Catholicism that I like. And unlike in a lot of churches, in which the traditional Mary candles have been replaced by electric candles, these were the good, old-fashioned, big white votive pillars in glass jars.
I never pass up the chance to light a candle to Mary, but this was the coolest place I've ever done it.
This altar with a bone in it was in a side chapel. No sign, no explanation, just the bone. Weird relics are my second favorite part of Catholicism, after the Mary stuff.
There was also a room full of offerings people have brought to Mary. Some people bring things hoping Mary will help them with something, and some people bring things after Mary has helped them with something. There were wedding dresses, baby shoes, crutches, paintings, needlework, flowers, candy, all sorts of things. The guard said they have to empty the room weekly.
We enjoyed exploring the top of the mountain, which is covered with grottos and trails and fountains. I bought some excellent Mary merch, and a nice pilgrim took our picture as we waited to get the train back to Barcelona.
I just can't get enough of old cathedrals, so the next morning I went to Mass at the Barcelona Cathedral. There is a Gothic cloister inside the cathedral complex that has always housed a flock of exactly thirteen white geese since its completion in 1448. These represent the thirteen tortures of Barcelona's patron saint, Santa Eulalia (or maybe the age at which she was martyred). Catholics love a virgin martyr who suffered a gruesome death. Here's her story.
In the year 304, as part of the persecution of Christians ordered by the Roman Emperor Diocletian, Eulalia was arrested and told she had to worship Roman gods. Eulalia refused, and was then, according to various accounts I found on the internet:
1. imprisoned in a small box
2. whipped
3. forced to walk barefoot on burning embers
4. torn apart by iron hooks
5. covered in boiling oil
6. set on fire
7. put on the rack
8. had her fingernails pulled out
9. branded
10. submerged in burning lime
11. rolled down the street in barrel full of knives
12. had her breasts cut off
13. crucified
And after all that, she was decapitated, and a white dove flew out of her neck and it started to snow. So the white geese represent the dove, and the miraculous snow, and her purity. Catholics be weird. Supposedly Santa Eulalia is buried in the crypt of the church.
The other patron saint of Barcelona is Sant Jordi (Saint George). There are lots of statues and paintings around town of him in his fancy armor with his boot on the neck of a writhing dragon. Here's a fun fact: on the feast day of Sant Jordi, April 23rd (yes, also Shakespeare's birthday), Catalans celebrate by giving each other a book and roses. Over half a million books were sold last year. And what does America have? Monster trucks and the NFL. Sigh.
We all met up at the Sagrada Familia in the afternoon. Sagrada Familia was fascinating and very, very crowded. And there were only four women's toilets for the whole place!! Thousands and thousands of tourists and FOUR TOILETS. Step it up, Sagrada Familia.
Here is Susan, our math teacher, interacting with the Gaudí architecture exhibit in the basement museum.
We enjoyed all the whimsical sculptures and curvy walls and stained glass and the poured-sand looking towers.
You may be wondering - Katherine, did your eight intermediate Spanish courses enable you to converse fluently in Spanish on your vacation? Um, that is an emphatic no. I asked a tourist to take this picture of us outside Sagrada Familia by holding out my phone and saying, "Puedo tomar un foto?" The woman was understandably confused as I had just handed her my phone and said "Can I take a photo?" I was always willing to try to speak Spanish, but my Spanish was usually just plain wrong. However, I reminded a lot of people of their ditzy mothers and almost always got what I wanted anyway.
It was a Gaudí twofer, as that evening I had booked us a night tour of Casa Milà (La Pedrera), a Gaudí apartment building. We rushed through dinner and showed up exactly on time - for the Spanish-language tour which I had booked in error. Oh, there were tours offered in English, I had just selected the wrong one on the website. The family were nice about it. At this point they are used to my speed-reading of labels and instructions which often results in my purchasing the wrong thing.
We were guided through the ground floor and the attic and told a lot of facts which I'm sure would have been very interesting had any of us been able to understand the guide. But the sound and light show on the roof required no translation! It was good and weird.
Many people feel that the Storm Troopers in Star Wars were inspired by the chimneys of La Pedrera.
"The Museu Frederic Marès is a unique collecting museum that preserves the collections assembled by its founder, sculptor Frederic Marès. Throughout his lifetime he amassed an extensive Hispanic sculpture collection which is on display on the first floor. The Collector's Cabinet on the second floor is the home to a display of tens of thousands of objects. There you can find amusing, unique items like fans, pipes, clocks, jewelry, photographs, toys, keys, pharmacy bottles and reliquaries."
I talked Susan and Ellen into coming with me, and it was just as odd and compelling as I had hoped.
The museum is, in fact, an impressive testament to one man's obsessive collecting habit. He was famous in his own lifetime and sold a lot of his own sculpture, which I guess is how he funded his addiction. Here are some Hispanic religious sculptures from the first floor - there were hundreds of these.
We especially enjoyed this Madonna del Latte with her one wooden boob coming directly out of the center of her chest.
Adding to the surreal experience of the museum were the guards, who forced us to go through every room IN ORDER, even if there was a doorway to a different room also available. It was especially odd since we were, literally, the only guests in the museum, so it wasn't a crowd control thing. A Barcelona brimming with tourists was just outside, but inside the Museu Frederic Marès, it was just us and a few neurotic guards.
Upstairs were the massive collections of random things in which Frederic took an interest.
Here are small samples from his collections of nutcrackers and fans and cigarette cards. There were about 10,000 cigarette cards in swinging display cases. What a crank this guy was. I absolutely loved exploring the junkshop of his obsessions. It was like a really organized Goodwill with guards.
After the Museu we had timed tickets to another Gaudí site, Parc Güell.
I first became aware of the park while reading the very literary (jk) series of YA books by Stephanie Perkins - Anna and the French Kiss, Lola and the Boy Next Door, and Isla and the Happily Ever After. I don't remember the details of the high-school romances (I'm sure you can imagine some for yourself) but I do remember the descriptions of Parc Güell.
The park encompasses a large area on the outskirts of Barcelona which was purchased by Gaudí's wealthy entrepreneurial patron, Eusebi Güell, for Gaudí to develop as a housing area. After Gaudí had built out all the infrastructure, it turned out that the area was too far from town to attract home builders. Only three houses, one of them Gaudí's, were built, but the central marketplace, network of paths, entry gates, and a huge public plaza remain.
The park is, indeed, far from the center of town. The metro gets you most of the way there, and since Google maps doesn't show elevation, I thought we were going to be on time for our tickets. Susan traveled with me, and hundreds of stairs and much sweating and swearing (me) and light bullying (Susan) later, we finally found a gate.
The other three members of our party all traveled separately and ended up at different gates at different times, but luckily the Spanish guards seemed unconcerned about our tardiness and let us all in. We gave up trying to figure out where the others were and headed to the bar for Aperol Spritz and Gin Tonic, and there they all were! We made our way up to the plaza, the second most intsta-worthy spot in the park. So many girlies in their best fits, blotting their faces and trying to get the perfect shot for their feed. And me, in my sombrero flotante and floral blouse, looking very average.
Here is the biggest Insta-worthy spot in the park, the lizard fountain.
And here are some other photos from the park.
One of the most beautiful buildings in Barcelona is the Palau de la Musica Catalana. The architect was Lluís Domènech i Montaner, the founder of Modernisme, which was a style that merged different art forms such as sculpture, blacksmithing, ceramics, and glass art - the same style that Gaudí employed. The Palau was completed in 1908, and it was still stunningly beautiful over 100 years later.
There are tours of the Palau, but my guide books all suggested going to a concert as the best way to enjoy it. There were three shows available there during our visit - a solo cello player, a tubular bells player, or an orchestra playing John Williams' Star Wars music. We booked the orchestra tickets since the other two seemed like an expensive way to take a nap.
We showered, got dressed up, and headed out for our 8 pm concert, confident that, unlike in our suburban town, we could get dinner at 10 pm when the concert finished. Once in Los Altos I was heading into the Safeway at 9 pm and a confused business man stopped me and said "None of these restaurants seem to be open... where can I get dinner?" And I pointed at the Safeway. I don't think he believed me, but I bet he soon found out that I was correct.
We very much enjoyed the concert and the beautiful building. Here are some photos, but they don't really do it justice.
After the concert, we were excited to find a restaurant that was serving Cuban food - food that we understood. Ropa Vieja (beef stew), plantains, Moros y Cristianos (rice and black beans). It was so nice to be offered something besides weird baby squid and ham.
The next day, our last in Barcelona, we visited a relatively new cultural attraction - the Hospital Sant Pau - a site that was recommended to us by our Los Altos neighbors, Derek and Camay. What a hot tip! The hospital complex is a beautiful example of Modernisme and was designed by Lluís Domènich i Montaner, the same man who designed the Palau de la Musica. Montaner believed that patients would recover better in a beautiful space full of natural light - and he delivered in spades.
Sant Pau was used as a hospital from 1930 through 2009, when hospital operations were moved to new buildings. The old hospital complex was cleaned up, placarded, and opened to tourists in 2014. The buildings were a mash-up of Gothic, Moorish, and Art Noveau style and were stunningly decorated with glass and mosaic. It was also nice because it had a handful of visitors as opposed to the hordes of tourists at Sagrada Familia (right down the street).
Adding to the experience was a café directly across the street where Larry could have his big beer,
Montjuic was our last tourist attraction in Barcelona. We toured the Joan Miró museum, a beautiful white building on top of the mountain that was full of strange art.
I had planned all week to have dinner at Poble Espanyol, a mountainside agglomeration of 117 life-scale recreations of buildings from around Spain that were built for the 1929 Barcelona Universal exhibition. Imagine my disappointment upon discovering that the whole place was closed for an EDM festival! I seriously doubt that those drop-the-bass enthusiasts appreciated the Galician, Andalusian, etc. marvels that were all around them. Disappointed!!
Well, that was a fun trip down memory lane. We also visited Valencia, Cáceres, and Madrid, but I think they will have to be separate blog entries. I just have so many photos to share!!!
