GAUDI'S SAGRADA FAMILIA

Friday, April 29^th

We've been complaining so much about the crush of tourists everywhere that we should give a glimmer of hope for anyone thinking of traveling to Europe. Yes, tourists are everywhere (us included), but the travel writer Rick Steves suggested that a good way to beat the long lines at many places. Buy tickets or passes on line, and usually, you can go in a special entrance, or at least, jump to the head of the line.

This morning, at just before 9:00 am, we arrived at Antoni Gaudi's most famous building, the Cathedral Sagrada Familia (Holy Family), the one with towers that look like partially melted candles. Already, the line went around the block. So, we went looking for a separate entrance and followed people down a path next to a construction hut into the building. No one asked for any tickets at all, and we discovered that a mass was about to begin behind the high altar.

This wasn't what Steves intended with his advice, but it gave us an unexpected and rare opportunity to look back and see the cathedral virtually empty of the hordes that would soon fill it. We think that we could have stayed for part of the mass and then just mingled with the hordes free of charge ( ! ), but it being a church, and all, we went back out, jumped to the head of the line, and entered with the timed-entry tickets that the Kesslers had bought for us the day before we arrived.

We also followed Steves' advice to go to the museum areas in the crypt first, including a twenty minute film in English on the construction of the cathedral. Most of the areas were entirely deserted. Later, we discovered that everyone else had been advised to see the cathedral first, then the museums.

Gaudi, who died in 1926, never finished his great cathedral, but others have taken over the project and it's projected to be completed in another few decades. However, he did finish enough of it to put his unique stamp on it, and he left notes and designs for those who followed him.

Gaudi used nature as inspiration for all his work, and someday, when the front entrance is finished, the first thing you'll see when you look down the long, center aisle is the main altar. (We saw it from inside.) On the way are rows of columns, but unlike those in a medieval cathedral, his resemble tall trees with branches. The desired effect is like being on the floor of a rain forest with light filtering in from breaks in the lofty canopy.

[Remember: You can click on photos to enlarge them, and then click again to see fine details.]

Far above the main alter is a skylight that illuminates a lace-like ceiling that is hard to describe, but miraculous to look at. It's like gazing up at sunlight through the flimsy petals of a flower. The effect is at once delicate and inspiring. This is something you'd never expect in a massive cathedral, just as delicate rose windows, especially in solid medieval cathedrals, seem oddly out of place.

Gaudi once wrote that the tree outside his window was his “master,” and his towering, slender columns are a testament to that, but even small details come from natural models. Just to the right of the front entrance, for example, is a font for holy water molded in the shape of sea shell. Outside too, in addition to such religious scenes as the nativity, are sculptures of real animals.

It's hard to get good shots of the exterior of the cathedral, but Bob did his best, and all of us were moved by our visit to Barcelona's most famous landmark. After, we again followed Rick Steves' advice and took the #50 bus all the way across town to the huge Montjuic Park. We had planned to visit the castle at the top of the hill, but by then, it had begun to rain off and on, so we got off at the Fundacio Joan Miro, which has the world's best collection of his art. (Again, having bought Art Pass cards, we jumped to the head of the line.)

Because it's mostly abstract, Miro is hard to understand intellectually, but Rick Steves gives the following useful advice: “First meditate on it, then read the title (for example, The Smile of a Tear), then meditate on it again. Repeat the process until you have an epiphany.” At one point, the group had to come back to pick up Stew, who was still sitting on a bench awaiting his.

Finally, we trudged, museum-wearily down hill to the Catalan Art Museum, which is housed in a huge, probably 19^th Century building that was gutted so that the interior could be totally rebuilt. It now has a seemingly endless number of modern galleries, although the wing housing the oldest part of its collection was closed. We did manage to tour galleries of impressive Spanish impressionists and several rooms of fascinating art nouveau furniture and other pieces of art before throwing in our towels.

After, we caught another bus back to our part of the city, had some much-needed down time, and met later for more wine and tapas. We also promised ourselves that tomorrow would not be quite so filled with activities.