GR8 2CU BCN: A walk in the park, a trip in the dark

Each day during our week in Barcelona the weather got better and better, so it was typical that the last full day of our stay was the hottest and sunniest yet.  Might as well enjoy it while we can, so how about a walk in the park?

In addition to the basilica of Sagrada Familia and a number of apartment blocks along the Ramblas, the architect Antoni Gaudi's other main contribution to the Barcelona cityscape is Parc Guell. Like Sagrada Familia, the park is incomplete; unlike the basilica, we are likely to never see Gaudi's original idea come to fruition. What was intended to be an exclusive development of private homes is now an overgrown and overrun green space with a handful of Gaudi's buildings.

From the metro station at Vallcarca, we headed downhill and veered east a bit until spotting the first of a series of open-air escalators built into the hillside atop which Parc Guell was laid out. This brought us to one of the 'back door' entrances to the park, so first impressions were not good. The park looked shoddy with eroded dirt paths instead of proper pavements, lots of ugly chainlink fencing and little in actual landscaping. There's no denying it was a stunning view from here though.

We were greeted by a guitarist dressed in a sheer leopard-print leotard with bells on his ankles. He stomped his feet, shouted nonsensical lyrics and frantically bashed out a tune on his guitar like someone working through his problems with music therapy. 'I'm a tiger, let me eat you,' he growled at bemused tourists.

We were stopped at this point by some Australians who knew by our pale skin that we were pommies. They asked if we knew what there was exactly to see in the park. A good question! The hill was intended by Gaudi to be a luxury housing estate, not a park, but it seems that after he stopped construction early on in the project that little effort was put into the turning the space into an enjoyable public space.

Wandering along after sending the Aussies down a random dusty trail, we found ourselves in a dusty plaza  ringed by the famous sinuous mosaic bench which we couldn't actually see for all the people sat on it.

This also turned out to be the roof of what was intended to be the market hall for the housing estate. Nowadays the forest of columns supporting the roof provide a shady spot for thousands of schoolchildren to play tag, their shrieks echoing off the ceiling in a manner that had me reaching for a nerve pill.

A series of playful steps watched over by smiling lizards lead down to the main park gates, on either side of which are cute little guardhouses that look like gingerbread houses.

One is a museum, the other a gift shop, both are certainly prime money spinners. A shame the rest of the space felt tired and under-utilised. Leaving through the park gates, we followed the crowds downhill past the tat shops into the Gracia neighbourhood, which the guidebooks recommend but which we found to be a dense collection of modern tower blocks. There were plenty of places to eat, many advertising very good menu offers, including one which posted a notice reading 'We speak poor English but have good cooking.'

Without any particular agenda, we kept on walking through Gracia, down the Ramblas and all the way into the Gothic quarter (about three hours of walking in all). It being our last day, we bought our souvenirs and gifts for the folks back home. At one grocery store we stocked up on 'pick-n-mix' sweeties but forgot to weigh and tag them. I don't know what it is about the Continent, but I predict that some day their tills will have these wonderful things called 'scales' which will be within reach of the cashier. Christian assumed it was so that customers could bag up a few things, weigh them, put on the price tag before popping in a few extra goodies for good measure. That was my sign that we had spent far too long among the mañana crowd and that it was time to go home.

First though, we had one last night in Barcelona to enjoy. It was a balmy night, perfect shirt-sleeve weather, incredible to think that it was nearly the middle of November. Time to visit another park, this time the slopes of Montjuic which were crowded with thousands of people enjoying the 'magic fountain.'

Spotlights shot up into the sky from behind the MNAC on the crest of the hill above us and a full moon hung low in the sky.

The air was thick from the cool mist wafting off the channels of water that were racing down the hillside and into a huge fountain which danced to music and coloured lights.

The display was particularly lovely when the water jets faded down into a mist, which the multi-coloured lights turned the water into silken curtains, lava flows and glowing clouds.

As you can tell from my clip, the sound system needed souped up a bit. It was hard to hear the mix of pop tunes there were playing like 1999, Independent Women and some Celine Dion what with all the splashing water and chatter of excited tourists. It was also a pickpocket's playground as thousands of snap-happy visitors crowded together in the dark, distracted by the spectacle. Still, mustn't grumble, it costs money for the water and electricity but there was no admission charge or sponsorship ads.


Around the corner and downhill from Montjuic is the Poble Sec or 'dry town' so-named because for many years it was without a reliable water supply. The avenue of Paral.lel was busy with the evening strollers, dog walkers and up-cyclers raiding the bins for scrap furniture to flog on at the flea market. Taking a left at a Burger King, we headed up a side street called Carrer del Poeta Cabanyes until we found Quimet & Quimet, a tiny eatery we'd seen both in travel guidebooks and cookbooks. Its doors were flung wide open, with people stood in the street.

We glanced at the menu but it had no translation. We decided to push our way in, taking a spot at the counter right as another couple left. This gave us a front-row view of the staff who were frantically preparing little plates of beautiful food. A wheel of cheese appeared (not the maggot-filled kind, I was relieved to see), the top was lopped off and the creamy contents scooped out like so much ice cream.

Plates were being passed over shoulders to diners behind us and piles of seafood atop toasted bread buns seemed to be popular. We asked for a salmon version of this plus a couple of croquettes, a plate of olives and some potato crisps. They had just tapped a barrell of Urquell Pilsner so naturally we wanted a couple glasses. 

Here's our array of tapas right before the croquettes arrived. As you can see, the 'crisps' turned out to be enormous thick slabs of potato which were dressed with a slather of honey and a dusting of cracked pepper. The pitted and stuffed olives were delicious. The croquettes were out of this world, crunchy on the outside and creamy on the inside, with the perfect balance of mashed potato and flaked fish. The salmon was curled atop cream cheese and drizzled with honey and balsamic vinegar. And the whole lot cost us a bargain €13.

The place is actually a deli, run by the brother and sister who were serving us. It's a single room with the walls stacked to the ceiling with bottles of wine and olive oil. The deli counter in front of us was crammed with the goodies they were dishing up for their diners, while the wall behind them was a veritable cornucopia of foodie delights. While it is a deli, not a restaurant, the standard of food is incredibly high. Yes, the mussels may be coming out of tins, but they must have been good judging by the clamour for them. They well deserve their top 20 restaurant ranking on Tripadvisor!

So, lots of fresh air and sunshine followed by a moonlit stroll past a dancing fountain, before we enjoyed some delicious food and good company. A perfect end to a lovely holiday. Bon apetit!

GR8 2CU BCN: on edge on Montserrat

An outing to Montserrat is the most popular day trip from Barcelona and the time it takes in getting there means an early start is recommended. We set off from the train station at Plaza Espanya, the gateway to Montjuic and a major intersection for several metro and train lines. All these are underground and it is a complicated labyrinth to negotiate (details below in IF YOU GO section), but in the ticket hall we found a couple of booths where people were on hand to explain the options for getting to Montserrat.

We chose the cable car as opposed to the mountain railway, declining the hair-raising flying daredevil-in-a-wingsuit approach:



NO THANKS! Trains leave hourly and we had missed one by 15 minutes, giving us time to head back upstairs to the bull ring shopping centre for coffee and croissants in the basement cafe. Returning to the platform, we joined the other tourists who between us ended up taking nearly every seat on the train. No doubt it is a crush during rush hour or summer. The train was slow, staying underground for the first half dozen or so stops. Once overground it seemed to stop every 5 minutes so we never built up any speed and it was quite awhile before the jagged peaks of Montserrat came into view. The train line followed a wooded river valley and we hopped off at the station for the cable car over an hour after leaving Barcelona.

The air hitting our faces was cool and fresh, giving us an extra kick to our step as we trotted along to be among the first 30 or so tourists boarding the cable car waiting for us. The monastery clung to the side of a cliff thousands of feet above us...

...and not long after boarding the cable car we were soaring into the air heading towards it like eagles catching a breeze. Here's my video (note the lack of any wingsuits):


Arriving at the monastery was like walking into a small town: almost every available inch of open space in this  mountain cleft has been paved over so that the millions of pilgrims who throng here each year can be fed, watered and ministered to.

Visitors walking around the sprawling complex will find monastic quarters, a famous school of music, an art gallery, shops, restaurants, a hotel and apartments plus an underground train station and car park which have been drilled into the side of the mountain itself. The basilica itself with its holy relic is sheltered inside the fortress-like building above; step into the courtyard of this plain monolithic edifice and you'll see this highly decorated archway and clock tower.

We joined a queue coming out of one of the doors for the church, thinking it was the way in, but instead it turned out to be the line for cuddling up to the effigy of the Virgin Mary. No ta. We entered the gaudy interior through another door and took a seat to soak up the atmosphere. It was a bit difficult to admire the stained glass and murals on the ceiling what with all the cameras constantly flashing and clicking.

Why does the statue attract such devotion? St Peter apparently visited Spain and decided to hide a statue of the Virgin Mary which had been carved by St Luke himself. Years later some monks find the statue, which they name La Moreneta ('the little tanned one'). Each time they try to take the 'Black Virgin' with them somewhere, the statue disappears and returns to where they found it. Heavenly music and miracles also accompany the relic, so the monks give up and build their monastery around it.

Although the original monastery was established over a thousand years ago, the basilica is a comparatively modern construction dating back to the 1850s. Some of the decor was not completed until nearly the turn of the century so there are strong modernista influences in the designs. The reconstruction project coincided with a surge in Catalan pride, sealing the monastery's role as a symbol of pride and identity for the region. Along with St George the Black Virgin of Montserrat is a patron saint of Catalonia.

Along either side of the nave is a virtual conveyor belt of pilgrims paying their respects to the statue. Newlyweds in particular flock here. All the touching and kissing of the relic didn't strike me as being particularly hygienic.

We had a half hour before the renowned boys choir were due to come out for their daily number, so we returned to the sunny courtyard and ate the sandwiches we'd bought earlier. The crowds were building up so we squeezed back inside the basilica to catch the boys choir as they filed in. A priest gave a welcome message in about six different languages, then he handed over the floor to the boys for their piece. More and more people were crowding in and the service was soon drowned out by cameras clicking and beeping.

What better time to visit the monastery's art gallery & museum?? Sure enough, we had the whole place practically to ourselves with its two floors of art and artefacts. Their Caravaggio was out on loan, but it was one of his many St Jeromes and I'm sure we've seen a version or two already. El Greco found us yet another saint with glossy eyes staring up into a black sky; the works by Monet were also quite stereotypical and not particularly memorable.

I was surprised to see that much of their collection was made up of secular art, with plenty of Catalan artists, including a few by Picasso such as a realistic portrait of an old fisherman which proved he knew how to paint 'properly' before moving on to Cubism. We admired several portraits by Ramon Casas, whose work we'd first encountered in MNAC on Montjuic; his depictions of well-dressed socialites amid the local cafe culture reminded me of Manet. It was also interesting to recall his self-portrait we'd seen at MNAC and to compare it against the one here, done when he was much older.

In addition to the paintings there are several rooms of icons and Holy Land artefacts like Mesopotamian tablets and Egyptian mummies. It took about a half hour to walk around the exhibits so it was a bit overpriced at €6.50 each, but it was a quiet diversion from the circus taking place at the same time in the basilica.

Time to enjoy the number one attraction of Montserrat: the mountain itself! Click back next time for a lovely walk and magnificent views.

IF YOU GO Although it is possible to drive the 30 miles out to Montserrat and there are plenty of coach tours leaving the city, the train is more comfortable and relaxing. Whether arriving by car or train, you have two options for ascending the mountain, either by cable car or mountain railway.

I recommend buying the TransMontserrat ticket which includes 1) a return ticket on the Barcelona metro for connecting with the train at Plaza Espanya; 2) your return train journey to Montserrat and back; 3) a return trip on either the cable car or mountain railway up the mountain; 4) unlimited use of the funiculars while on the mountain and 5) entry to a slideshow presentation (more on that in my next post). Tickets currently cost €26.60 and can either be bought in advance from the link above, or purchased on the day in the ticketing hall of Plaza Espanya train station. Staff representing both the cable car and mountain railway run booths in the ticketing hall handing out leaflets and answering questions, while someone is also stationed next to the ticket machines to make sure you are buying the correct ticket.

When buying the TransMonsterrat ticket you have to decide before joining the train whether you want to ride the cable car (AERI) or take the mountain railway (Cremallera). You cannot take one up and the other down. For the cable car, alight at Montserrat AERI station, which takes 1h5m from Barcelona. For the mountain railway, stay on the train another five minutes or so until reaching Monistrol de Montserrat station.

Not sure which one to take? Don't take the cable car if you are claustrophobic or afraid of heights!

I also thought the cable car had better connections. It meets trains as they arrive and should descend from the mountain about 15 minutes before the return train pulls in. Leaving Barcelona on the 10.36am train, we arrived at the cable car around 11.40 and were stood in front of the monastery 15 minutes later, meaning we only had a half hour to wait for the choir service. In high season though you might be left waiting for a cable car at the station unless you hustle off the train, although as one cable car goes up another should be coming down.

The last cable car heads down at 5.30pm in low season, which still left us with a full afternoon to see the monastery, art gallery and slideshow plus a ride up on one funicular and a walk back to the monastery.

You can also buy a Tot Montserrat ticket which includes all the perks of the TransMontserrat ticket, plus admission to the museum & art gallery and lunch in the cafeteria. At €42.65 each, you're better off with buying the TransMontserrat ticket, packing a picnic lunch and paying €6.50 for a museum ticket if you're interested in seeing the artworks.

A third option is to buy a train ticket at Plaza Espanya, booking your cable car or mountain railway connection at the same time, although this means buying separate tickets for the Barcelona metro and Montserrat funiculars. See if you can figure out the fares and savings on the local travel website?! Thought so. Stick with the TransMontserrat ticket!

In order to find the ticket hall and trains under Plaza Espanya, follow signs for what looks like a sideways S (see left): the route is called the R5 and trains are bound for Manresa. You don't necessarily have to to join the train at Plaza Espanya as the train calls at a number of suburban stations, but even on a mid-morning weekday departure in November the train was nearly full when it left Plaza Espanya.

Bells, bells, bells, what a world of happiness their harmony foretells!

Did you hear about the man with no arms who applied for a job as a bell-ringer? The cathedral had just lost its hunchback when an armless man showed up asking for the bell-ringing job. 'This I gotta see,' the bishop said and the pair of them climbed up the bell tower. 'Go on then,' the bishop said, 'show me how you plan on ringing the bell.' With that, the man ran with no arms took a flying leap towards the bell, smacked his head against it and promptly bounced out of a window and down to the ground over a hundred feet below. Once the loud peal had died down, the bishop heard a shout from the crowd who had gathered around the body: 'Do you know who this is??' And the bishop shouted back, 'No, but his face rings a bell.'

These days, bell ringing is a hunchback-free affair. We have been to York many times and over the years have become acquainted with one of the chaps who plays the York Minster carillon. He promised us a behind-the-scenes tour of York's cathedral and what better time to call in the favour then when a couple of friends from the USA happened to be in the country?

So for our final day of our Yorkshire trip we left sunny Middlesbrough in time to meet our friends from America who had come up for the day from London.

First stop of course had to be brunch at Betty's, the famous cake shop and tea room. Next, we had a look around the city's art gallery before taking the steps up onto the old walls which encircle much of the historic centre. It was another warm and sunny spring day, the perfect weather for gazing down into gardens and peeping through leafy trees on either side of the fortifications. York is a lovely city crammed with many medieval churches, fine old houses and ancient monuments like Clifford's Tower.

Back down on the ground and it was time for our friend John to sneak us in the back door of York Minster, the enormous Gothic cathedral which is the town's greatest landmark. I say sneaking in, it was more of a case of 'they are with me' as we nipped in through a side door past a warden. 

John took us on a circuit of the cathedral. As I said, we've been several times before and to be frank, York Minster is one of England's more plain cathedrals once inside. 

There's no denying the beauty of its lines, the light filtering through some of Europe's oldest stained glass, plus the sheer scale of the space - but it feels a bit sterile. There aren't many quirky features to catch the eye, except for the Doom Stone down in the crypt which shows demons feeding sinners into the jaws of hell. 

Speaking of feeding, those scones of Betty's weren't that filling and we were ready for a late lunch, but first John made good on his promise of showing us the bell tower up close. The southwest tower of the cathedral has many dozens of steps spiralling up it which took us well over 150 feet up into the air. Once we caught our breaths, we admired the view in all directions: over to the art gallery...

across the heart of the historic centre...

a unique viewpoint of the cathedral's upper heights...

a dizzying perspective of the floor far below us...

and an almost-so-close-you-can-touch-it look at the stained glass Heart of Yorkshire.

The bell-ringing room itself is a cozy affair, with the carillon keyboard set right up against one of the tower's many Gothic windows.

John treated us (and anyone else within earshot outside) to a couple of lovely church tunes, then let us each have a bash. It's much like playing the piano, except you need to use your fist to strike each note. Apologies to anyone who had to endure my off-key rendition of Joy To The World. Aside from the 'knuckle song', it's the only piece of music I know how to pick out on a piano (the opening is just one key after another, played in order from highest to lowest).

Before heading back down, John noticed it was coming up on four o'clock and asked would like to hear the marking of the hour? Here's the clip I made. TURN DOWN THE VOLUME ON YOUR SPEAKERS OR ELSE IT WILL BE DEAF O'CLOCK!

To round off our day in York with out friends we had a delicious meal at a place called Rustique. We chose it on a whim, only because their low-price set menu offer caught our eye. It turned out to be one of the best meals we'd had in ages, all fine French food at a very low price (three courses for less than £15). Without any advance planning, we had stumbled into what Tripadvisor reviewers rank as one of the best restaurants in York. It's not many camping trips that end with five-star French cuisine!

Liverpool 'flickvid' 2

Another stop-action 'video' from a day out to Liverpool.

A kinetic sculpture by Richard Wilson called 'Turning the Place Over'... a digger demolishes an old block... and new flats rising behind an old church.

Liverpool 'flickvid'

This is my first stop-action 'video' which was made by stringing together photos taken on my Olympus still camera in quick succession.

Join me for a ride on the train and a walk down to the waterfront with its 'Three Graces' plus the new Museum of Liverpool and ferry terminal.

Hadrians Wall Country 6: Chesters Roman Fort

Back downhill from Housesteads, it was time again to catch the AD 122 bus heading eastbound. The sky was clearing and the summer sun was burning through at last, but I was a bit depressed by the lack of good light I'd had so far on this trip. Even a sunny day does not necessarily mean good photo opportunities, especially at midday when there aren't many shadows and colours are bleached out.

Chesters Roman Fort was only a few miles down the road, but the landscape changed quickly from exposed grassy moorland to enclosed glades and wooded riversides. Chesters guarded the Roman bridge over the north branch of the River Tyne.

From this map you can see the river crossing and you'll notice a country house now overlooks the site. The house is the ancestral home of the Claytons. After buying the estate in 1796, the family patriarch treated the Roman fortress in his garden as a bit of a nuisance which was levelled out and grassed over, with whatever statues and carvings that turned up being tucked away into his private collection. His son John (born 1792) took great interest in these old stones and in later years he took time off from his law practice and position as town clerk for Newcastle to study the local Roman history in more detail.

John Clayton literally put Hadrians Wall on the map. Recognising its importance and realising how much of it had been lost to vandals and scavengers, he set about buying land along the route in order to survey it, excavate it and preserve it. It is thanks to his efforts we can all appreciate such a well-preserved section stretching between Chesters and Housesteads.

He worked on digs well into his 90s, recovering some spectacular statues which are on view at the Chesters museum. Altarpieces, pottery, plus bronze and iron relics are also on view.

Outside and the site has a fantastic riverbank position, which inspired this short videoclip.

One of the best preserved sections of the fort is its bath house, which I was stood overlooking when filming the clip.

Some experts say these niches would have sheltered statues.

The main headquarters buildings still has some of its courtyard flagstones in place and you can clearly see how the underfloor heating operated in the commander's house. Hot air from a fire would circulate around these columns which would have supported the floor.

Sandwiches, ice creams and snacks are served in a cabin nearby where we had lunch. Back out on the main road while waiting to catch the bus I saw this beautiful tree.

Next stop, the abbey town of Hexham!

A change in scenery: Hadrians Wall Country

Now that I've wrapped up the St Augustine portion of my springtime road trip through Dixie, I think it is time for a change in scenery.

Another recent destination from my travels was Hadrians Wall, parts of which stretch from coast to coast across the north of England. Last August we travelled by bus, by train and on foot from Carlisle to Newcastle following the foundations of this ancient marvel of Roman design.

The Romans never managed to subdue the barbaric Pict tribes in what is now Scotland, so Emperor Hadrian decided in the year 122 to build a series of forts and watchtowers linked by a wall. He felt his armies were in danger of being over-extended after decades of continual expansion and conquest. Hadrian saw the need to consolidate his forces and establish a strong military presence along the Empire's frontiers.

In only about six years, all 76 miles of the wall were complete, although the wall narrowed as it headed west and after awhile stone was abandoned in favour of just high mounds of earth.

That means towards the western end the wall is scarcely visible any more. It hasn't helped that the quarried blocks were perfect for building churches, houses and sheep pens!

The first sight of the proper wall is still impressive as I hope this short clip gives some idea.

Apologies for the noise from the wind tearing across the place. Just think of those poor Roman soldiers, sat there with nothing to look forward to except a cold bowl of gruel.



I also experimented with the zoom function on my little digital camera, but I don't think I'll bother in future.

Over the next couple weeks I will describe the trip in more detail.