A Hairy Time in Barcelona?

The Plaça Catalunya is the terminus of the airport bus and the arrival point of many visitors to Barcelona. From here it is possible to stroll down the series of avenues known as Las Ramblas to the Columbus monument and the sea.  If, that is, you do not get distracted by the bird market, the flower market, the artists or the living statues along the way, as we did.   There was quite an epidemic of living statues in the city, from grey, traditional statues, to clowns, robots, mummies and a green painted pixie (or alien). There have to be better ways to earn a living than painting yourself white and standing still all day, but it must be quite lucrative for so many of them to do it.  In addition to the living sculptures, Barcelona is also adorned by modern sculptures; the result of a public sculpture programme intended to brighten up the city for the 1992 Olympics.

Wilfred the Hairy

Our first port of call in a city famed for its art and architecture was, naturally, the zoo. Barcelona zoo is famous for its albino gorilla, known as Snowflake, but we were more interested in the pair of rare hyacinth macaws.  For those who are concerned about the morality of zoos, I can only observe that Barcelona zoo appears to be well run, and to have conservation, rather than spectacle, as its main priority. 

Having visited the zoo, we turned to the artistic delights of Barcelona.  The Museu Picasso is one of those museums that guidebooks tell you is worth visiting, even if you are not interested in the art, simply for the building alone. There is a certain justification for this, for the museum is situated in two fifteenth-century palaces in Barcelona’s Gothic quarter.  Unsurprisingly, since the artist lived in Barcelona between the ages of 14 and 23, the collection is strongest on his early years.  However, for me the most interesting part was the series of paintings based on interpretations of Velázquez’s Las Meninas, which become increasingly abstract, so that it becomes quite difficult to spot the dog, let alone the children. 

Before coming to Barcelona I had heard a lot about La Sagrada Familia, the huge unfinished church designed by Gaudí.  This is not to be confused with the Cathedral, in the old town, which is gothic, dating mostly from the thirteenth and fourteenth  centuries.  Its principal curiosity is the gaggle of geese that live quite happily in its cloister.  The Cathedral is also noteworthy for the carving of Wilfred the Hairy on one of its portals.

Wilfred the Hairy (Guifré el Pelós) was a character who unified Catalonia in the Dark Ages, a sort of Catalan Alfred the Great.  He was Count of Barcelona in the ninth century, and was fittingly a contemporary, and nominally a subject, of the Carolingian emperor Charles the Bald.  Disappointingly, some historians now question whether or not he actually was hairy, or whether his soubriquet became misinterpreted over time (rather like the argument about whether Ethelred was unready or not).  Unfortunately, there are few traces of the hirsute one to be found in modern Barcelona and his tomb is in the church of Santa Maria del Ripoll in the north of Catalonia.  A suitably hairy portrayal of Wilfred can be seen on one of the portals of the Cathedral, killing a dragon.  Unlike St George, who also adorns the portal, Wilfred needs no armour to protect him.

In the square outside the cathedral we saw a procession of schoolchildren in fancy dress and yet more living statues.  I felt rather sorry for the Egyptian mummy. He was supposed to be fully encased in gold lycra, but he had trouble doing it up properly at the back, so that there was a clear view of his vest and shorts. I really wanted to go and tuck him in, but fortunately managed to resist the temptation. 

The day after visiting the cathedral, we visited some of the famous buildings designed by Gaudí, starting with the Park Guëll.  This was not designed to be a park, but an upmarket housing development, for which Gaudí was commissioned to provide the infrastructure, which included entrance lodges, a marketplace and square, and a mosaic lizard fountain.  In the event, only two of the building plots were developed, and the site became a park. One of the houses is now a Gaudí  museum. On Saturday and Sundays between 10.00 a.m. and 2.00 p.m. there is an ‘art exhibition’ or gathering of artists displaying their wares. For those like us who collect pictures as souvenirs of our travels, this could prove costly.  It is also not entirely practical to purchase a large watercolour painting on a somewhat rainy day.

Casa Milà, also known as La Pedrera (the stone quarry), is an apartment building, with a distinctive, curvy, organic-looking façade.  It is possible to go in and see one of the apartments furnished in the contemporary style and to go up to the roof terrace to have a close up view of the weirdly shaped chimney pots. The final Gaudí site we visited was the (in)famous Sagrada Familia.   This was unfinished at the time of Gaudí’s death, although work is now taking place to complete it. Our first view was of the newer façade, depicting the Passion, which looked fairly normal.  Having passed through the building, we came upon Gaudí’s original façade, depicting the Nativity.  This, according to my husband, resembled ‘the gaping maw of hell’, though I am not sure how he was able to recognise it.  It is certainly unusual.  The decoration is very organic and flowing in appearance. As well as the figures of the Holy family, there are all sorts of creatures, even a turkey, and at the top there is something which looked to me like a Christmas tree with doves on it.

The Park Guëll, with its strange buildings and vistas, had reminded me slightly of Portmeirion. The following day we visited the Poble Espanyol – an artificial ‘village’ created for the Universal Exhibition of 1929, containing examples of architecture from each region of Spain.  This was even more like Portmeirion. Now the buildings house souvenir shops, exhibitions and cafes, including an exhibition of fans, with an alarming commentary:  “Foamy specimen and of manual prestige, the fate, whatever ends be in its use in feminine presdigitation, still conserves its suprahistorical charm of fascinating manufacture…”.  The central square is often used for performances and concerts.  We left hurriedly as a country and western group started to perform. 

The Poble Espanyol is on the Montjuïc hill, and it is a relatively short walk from here to the Olympic area.  Here we saw the stadium, already looking rather sad and neglected, and the very space-age looking Palau d’Esports Sant Jordi.  Further down the road was the Fundació Miró, founded by the artist Joan Miró,  as a centre for study and experimentation in contemporary art.  Although I am a bit sceptical about some modern art, especially of the unmade bed variety, I found this interesting, particularly the mercury fountain.  My husband, who is even more sceptical than I, declared that one or two of the exhibits were ‘a load of old nonsense’ but even he was fascinated by the brightly-coloured sculptures on the terrace, which were figures made from unusual objects.

To return from Montjuïc to the city centre there is a choice of funicular or a cable car, which takes you down to the harbour. The cable car delivered us to the vicinity of the harbour fish restaurants just in time for a leisurely Sunday lunch of suqets de pescadoi (fish stew) followed by a caramel fruit dessert. 

There is a huge choice of food in Barcelona: Seafood paella, chicken paella, mixed seafood and chicken paella, vegetarian paella and black paella made with squid ink are widely available.  In addition, there are a huge range of tapas, and local specialities, such as the aforementioned suqets de pescadoi and bullabesa,  a fish soup.  The most ubiquitous dessert is crema catalana, a type of crème brulée, closely followed by what was described as ‘heavenly pudding’, a sort of sweet terrine, with a caramel topping.  The fruit version of this is particularly delicious. 

Getting around Barcelona is easy. There is a comprehensive metro system as well as the local buses, and the city is relatively compact so that many of the things to see are within walking distance of each other and the hotels.

I would thoroughly recommend Barcelona for a short break, but one word of warning: it seems to be an extremely popular venue for student visits. All of the colleges in my area seemed to be having field trips there at the same time as our visit.  

Get thee to the Monastery!

In October 2008, my husband went to Granada on a travel writing weekend.  I went along for the ride, and explored on my own. Three days in Granada is rather more than most casual visitors allow, but I found plenty to fill my time.  

Friday 

View from the Alhambra

Arrive at Hotel Casa del Capitel Nazari – a sixteenth–century mansion with lots of courtyards.  It can only be entered by pressing a bell outside and waiting for someone to open the door.  Our room seems rather dark (dark wood ceiling and shuttered windows) and there isn’t much storage space, but at least the walls are a homely yellow.  The hotel is in the Albaicin district – very picturesque, but the narrow streets are not closed to traffic, so walking up the road involves taking one’s life in one’s hands (one side are houses, shops and restaurants opening directly onto the street, and on the other is a low parapet and a drop into the gorge.  It’s the sort of place where you might see a hit and run attempt in a film.

We meet the rest of the participants of the travel writing weekend for dinner at Rabo de Tube on Paseo de los Tristes. Nicholas, a long-haired TEFL teacher, remarks that he has “too many parakeets” in his garden in Richmond.  How is it possible to have too many?  Though he adds that they gang up on the blackbirds like a sort of avian mafia.

Saturday 

I wander around the renaissance and baroque part of the city, where the Cathedral and Capilla Real are located.  There are helpful plaques describing interesting buildings in Spanish and English. 

After a while, I head up the hill towards the Alhambra.  The walk takes me through a wooded area, with conkers underfoot. When I finally locate the ticket office, the automatic machine accepts my card, despite statements to the contrary on my booking confirmation.  I notice some pomegranate trees. Pomegranates, the symbols of Granada, are everywhere – even the pavement bollards are stylised pomegranates. I start my visit at the Generalife, which is crowded. I'm impressed by the size of the cockscomb plants, (celosia cristata) which are several feet high, not like the little pot plants my dad used to grow. The idea of a running water handrail is intriguing, but don’t think it is very practical. 

Then I enter the Palace of Charles V, and visit the (free) Alhambra Museum inside. There is a display relating to the restoration of the lions from the Courtyard of the Lions in the Nasrid palace. According to the display panel, figurative art flourished in Al-Andalus from the  Umayyad period and Caliphate to the Nasrid dynasty, when objects and living beings were commonly represented in private houses and palaces. The fountain in the Courtyard of the Lions has required constant repair, the first having taken place in the sixteenth century. The current restoration has allegedly revealed more realism in the sculpture, a more stylised, svelte figure, technical sophistication and detailed sculpting, especially in the paws and belly fur.  I looked closely at the paws and belly fur, but I couldn’t make out that much detail myself.

After a refreshment break, I visit the Alcazaba or old citadel and climb the Torre de la Vela (Watchtower) from which there is an excellent view of the city and the cathedral.  

Finally I enter the Nasrid Palace, which is the highlight of the Alhambra.  It is very beautiful, but crowded, despite the timed ticket entry. A grey cat prowled around one of the courtyards as if he owned the place. Perhaps he did.

On my way out, I pass the travel writing group who are on their way in.  I leave them to it, and go for a late lunch.

After a siesta, I join the travel writing group back for a book reading by Chris Stewart. The moral appears to be, if not ‘make it up’ at least ‘embellish and modify’.  

Later, we all go to Mirador de Morayma in the Albaicin for a formal dinner.  The point of this restaurant is supposed to be the view – Morayma was the wife of the last Nasrid King, Boabdil, and this is said to be the location of the house where she was exiled, spending her time looking out at the palace of the Alhambra.  But our group is seated in an inside room, so we do not get the benefit.  The food is OK, though the vegetarian sitting on my left is not impressed by the lack of choice, and someone else is disappointed with her fish.  I choose a cold soup of garlic and almonds which is ‘interesting’, but I wouldn’t have it again, followed by meatballs with potatoes.   The meal is on Spanish time, so we don’t sit down until about half nine, and finish after midnight.  I am not the only one with a stomach on English time who finds this a bit hard going. 

Sunday

I walk round by the cathedral first thing and notice beer glasses lying around, also a strong smell of urine and general litter, but the street cleaners are about. I decide to come back when they have finished, and return to the Albaicin to visit the Archaeological Museum, housed in a sixteenth-century mansion. The exhibits range from the Paleolithic to Moorish periods. Although the descriptions of exhibits are in Spanish only (beyond my elementary level), there are excellent explanatory drawings which make everything clear.

I stroll around the Albaicin for a while, trying to avoid treading in the dog poo which decorates the pavements and eventually wander back down to the Cathedral area to visit the the Capilla Real (Royal Chapel).  It contains the tombs of the Catholic Monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella and their daughter Joanna the Mad and her husband Phillip the Fair. It is surprisingly light inside because of the white marble.  It is possible to go down to the crypt to see the lead caskets containing the actual remains, but I am more interested in the small museum containing amongst other things Isabella’s crown and sceptre, and Ferdinand’s robes, as well as works of art from Isabella’s collection.

Later, I  come across a brass band, wearing uniforms with purple trim, lounging around outside the main Post Office. I have obviously just missed their performance. I walk along Acera del Darro and come across a market of stamps, coins and postcards.  At the fountain I find tables where women are sitting around making lace, and stalls selling patterns and bobbins. Mickey Mouse is going around selling balloons to children.

Back in Plaza Bib Rambla there is another Mickey Mouse with balloons, and also Winnie the Pooh. I  am intrigued by a children’s roundabout, which is powered by a man sitting on a sort of bicycle contraption. The ‘horses’ are made of old tyres (they aren’t all horses – there is at least one dragon or dinosaur).  

We skip the group arrangements for dinner, and do the tourist thing in Plaza Bib Rambla at Restaurant Manolo. We manage to sit down to eat before 8.00 p.m.  I have sopa picadillo (chicken, bacon  and egg – it has an odd, animal flavour like wet donkey), pork loin skewer (Gordon Ramsay would not have approved of the presentation, but it was very tender) and home made crème caramel (‘flan’). 

Monday 

I visit the monastery of San Jerónimo. The monastery was founded by the Catholic Monarchs and handed over to the Hieronymite order. In 1523 the Duchess of Sesa obtained the main chapel to use as a family vault and she commissioned architects to give the Gothic structure a makeover to bring it into the Renaissance style.  Inside is a cloister filled with citrus trees (orange, lemon and lime) edged with jasmine.  The sweet, cloying scent is almost  overpowering. 

Monastery of San Jeronimo

Walking anti-clockwise round the cloister, I come to the refectory, which is simply furnished with wooden benches, whitewashed walls and wooden ceiling.  The chapter house and sacristy are in a similar simple style, with some religious paintings and statues. Finally I come, with a shock, to the main church. This is a total contrast, with deep ceiling relief, painted walls and ceiling and gilded altarpiece and a recording of baroque music playing.  I have the place virtually to myself.

When I can drag myself away, I  visit the Cathedral.  The space inside is huge, and remarkably light and airy, massive white columns with some gold detail. There is no prohibition on photography, so it is full of snapping tourists, but fortunately it is large enough for them to be spread out and not ruin the atmosphere.  There is also a small museum displaying vestments and gold and silver chalices.  

I encounter another of the travel writing group's hangers-on at a cafe, so join him for coffee, and rave to him about the monastery of  San Jerónimo until he decides to go and see for himself. Later I walk back to the Albaicin to meet Neil at the end of the travel writing weekend.  He is talking to another participant, who asks if I have seen her husband. "Yes, I just sent him to the monastery" was probably not the answer she was expecting.

The travel writing weekend was organised by Travellers' Tales.

Travel Writing Contests

Details of the Bradt/Independent travel writing competition for 2015 are now out and can be found here. This year's theme is 'Serendipity.' The main prize is a fly-drive holiday to Iceland, and the prize for the best 'unpublished' writer is a holiday for two to the Cinque Terre in Italy.

Granada

If you are interested in travel writing, it's well worth having a go; my husband won the 'unpublished' category in 2008. His prize was a travel-writing weekend in Granada.  I went along for the ride as a paying customer, and won an i-Pod Nano in a Dorling Kindersley competition for writing about the Monastery of San Geronimo.  Come to think about it - that was quite serendipitous!