Gaudy Gaudi

Today, I put my tourist hat on and finally paid homage to the Modernista "Saint", Antoni Gaudi.  This began with a pilgrimage to the Sagrada Familia, which was dubbed a basilica in 2010... as soon as its roof and floor were finished (apparently those are required for basilica status).  I arrived just as it opened at nine and found a round-the-block line awaiting me.  Thank goodness I brought my Kindle!  Once inside, I obeyed my touristy side and obsessive love of audioguides.  My fellow Audioguidees and I progressed around the cathedral like chess pieces, moving in prescribed patterns about the cathedral-in-progress.  Now, I'm not the hugest Gaudi or Modernista fan, but I did love the Sagrada Familia.  Well, most of it, but the only things I didn't like were a few details, and since so many others have taken liberties in fulfilling Gaudi's vision, it's hard to place any blame.  Anyway, for those of you who haven't been to the Sagrada Familia, picture this: You wait patiently in line, staring up at the swoopy architecture that you've seen around town and creeping toward the entrance.

And then you're through the gates, ticket in hand.  You stare up at the Passion Facade, where all human figures look gaunt (very intense bone structure and very little eating were two characteristics of Christ's time, apparently).

But as you walk around the front, you start to notice little things: the alpha and omega gleaming in symmetry above the door, a number puzzle on the left side of the entrance, Christ's 2000 ton soul rising high above the facade among the construction.  I think the reason that I love the Sagrada Familia is because Gaudi was clearly OCD, and I love him for it.  And, of course, Gaudi and I shared several passions: stained glass an and ceilings.

I also went up to the towers, which induced fear of heights finger cramping (I feel like I have the weirdest phobia reactions) but was totally worth it.

And now a few more photos:

In front of the Passion Facade

A door with The Lord's Prayer in Catalan in the center and "Lord, give us our daily bread" in 50 languages down the sides.

In front of the most elaborate Facade, which was also the first completed and which depicts Christ's birth

Some of the towers, as seen from one of the other towers

After a brief siesta, I struck out to another Gaudi tourist magnet, Parc Guell.

You see the pictures, but then you get there and everything changes.  If you’re not overwhelmed by heat or tourists, you’re struck by all the colors and shapes and the constant motion.  Humans clamber over broken tile mosaics, wander among the 100  columns of the anticipated marketplace (given how many people were selling tacky crafts, I think it counts as a marketplace), or catch the fountain/spin of the famous lizard.

And you soak it all in, but then you just crave shade and a bit of solitude.  And then you leave the craziness and color behind and get into the actual park part of it.  The park is lovely, with winding paths through shady woods that feel far from the city; the only sounds were conversation and bird calls.  All of the views out over the city seem distant, reinforcing the idea that you’re observing the city but not actually a part of it.  I loved it, and just wish it was open earlier so that I could run there in the mornings.

Back at home, I attempted to make myself a more Catalan meal and cooked up a Spanish tortilla, which is basically an onion and potato omelet.  It’s eaten by itself or as a sandwich on fresh bread.  Delicious.

Spotted: Actual spots, and lots of them.

Matching outfits seem to be a big thing in Barcelona for groups.  Instead of tacky tourist t-shirts, people all dress in a single color scheme from their own wardrobes.  This can be black and white, teal, or a specific pattern like spots.  I’ve seen people do this at restaurants, bachelorette parties, and even people running, walking, or biking together on the beach.  There is never any formalized indication that they planned this, as the outfits are the same color but almost never the same style or actual clothing.  But when you see three women running together in teal tops and black running tights in a migrating-bird formation, you know something’s up.  Or, in the case of these spots, when the mother is attempting to imprint on her children by their common fashion sense (however coerced it may have been).