Fort Greene Park

Posted on November 2, 2025 by admin

On the morning of October 19, Fort Greene Park in Brooklyn was still pretty green.

Of course, the 30-acre park was named for the talented Revolutionary War general, not for the hues of its 50-plus species of trees, very many of which seemed to be ginkgoes. Whatever the coloration, the park proved to be a nice place for a stroll that day, offering a more manageable size than either Central Park the day before, or Prospect Park would later that day (as great as those two are).

My idea for attending Open House New York was Manhattan on Saturday, Brooklyn on Sunday, planning that took us – by this time, just the two of us – to Atlantic Terminal by way of the LIRR on Sunday morning. From there, Fort Greene Park is a short walk, though once you get there, it’s something of a hustle to climb the park’s central hill. A fort had been on the site, active during the Revolution and again for the War of 1812, for a reason.

As a park, Fort Greene came of age at roughly the same time as the idea of municipal parks themselves, that is during the mid-19th century, with some agitation on the part of Walt Whitman – editor of the Brooklyn Eagle in the late 1840s – helping facilitate its creation.

In 1857, Whitman wrote about the place, known at the time as Washington Park: This beautiful ground is now covered with rich verdure, and is one of the pleasantest resorts anywhere around. On its lofty tops you feel the breeze, and from them behold one of the finest views in the world. Most of the trees are yet too young to cast much shade, but they are growing finely.

We recollect there was a very obstinate and indignant opposition to the securing of these noble grounds, some twelve years since, when the project was mooted before the Common Council and the public. It was argued that Brooklyn was not rich enough to stand the expense of purchase; and that it would be better to let the “old fort” be dug away, and blocked up with buildings.

Fortunately these counsels did not prevail. A more far-sighted policy… carried the day.

Is there any one left of those who so furiously opposed Washington Park, who is not now glad that his opposition did not succeed?

I’m also glad there’s a park, though leaving the ruins of the fort might have been an interesting approach to creating one. As Whitman would surely have appreciated, 21st-century Brooklynites were out in numbers (but not crowds) to enjoy the park on a warmish fall day, walking their dogs and turning their kids loose to play. A scattering of other people had come for Open House.

The green space and trees were only the first layer. Come 1867, Frederick Law Olmsted and Calvert Vaux applied their considerable talents into making Fort Greene into their vision of an urban park, a small-scale version of Central Park or Prospect Park. That’s reason enough to visit.

One of their additions: grand outdoor stairs.

It wasn’t until 1908 that those stairs led to the Prison Ship Martyrs Monument, memorializing the more than 11,500 POWs who died in wretched conditions aboard British prison ships during the Revolution.

The column isn’t usually open, but Fort Greene Park was an Open House site, so we were able to go inside after waiting in line a short time. I was expecting stairs inside. But there was just a rusty iron ladder, which the park ranger who led us into the column called “scary.” I agree.

There had been a spiral staircase in the memorial’s early days, but it is long gone. I wasn’t in a stair-climbing mood at that moment anyway, so for me it was just as well. If the city ever comes up with the scratch, there might be stairs again, the ranger said.

She also told us about the formation of the park, the long delay in setting up the memorial, and the tomb on the grounds that holds bones of some of the prisoners. The tomb isn’t open to the public.

A newer memorial, plaque-on-rock style and in place almost 50 years now, was dedicated by a young King Juan Carlos in memory of the Spaniards who fought for American independence.

French assistance to the nascent United States was mentioned prominently in school but not, that I remember, Spanish efforts, which were nothing to sneeze at. Maybe by 1898, Spaniards who gave the matter any thought considered the U.S. a pack of ingrates, but such is geopolitics. By 1976 and later, it was high time to acknowledge the likes of Bernardo de Gálvez and his men, and I was glad to find out that Pensacola still celebrates Gálvez Day (May 8).

Barcelona Scraps

Posted on June 29, 2023 by admin

One of these days, we might have a string of holidays and quasi-holidays from Juneteenth to July 4, the warm equivalent of Christmas to New Year’s Day. Anyway, back on July 9 or so.

Not as much smoke today, though it is still an air pollution action day, according to the NWS. Curious term. You’d think it would be an inaction day, at least as far as outdoors activity is concerned.

Barcelona city trucks. Specifically, neteja (cleaning).

The Temple d’August, which is tucked away on a narrow street in the Gothic Quarter.

The only Roman ruins we saw on the trip. Toyed with the idea of going to Tarragona to visit its extensive ruins, but that didn’t happen.

“The uniform columns of the Temple of Augustus inside are 9 metres tall and comprise an imposing relic of one of the temples from Barcelona’s Forum, which stood on a corner site at the rear,” Visit Barcelona says. “The temple was built in the 1st century BC and, as its name suggests, it was dedicated to the worship of Emperor Augustus…. The temple was reconstructed by the architect Puig i Cadafalch in the early 20th century.”

La Rambla, near one end. The end near the ocean.

Columbus still looks out to sea at that point, as he has done since 1888. Monument a Colom, the maps call it, and efforts to take it down have been unsuccessful so far.

There was also a lot of construction in the area, with blocked off sections. I can’t see a sign like that in Spain and not be reminded of no pasarán!

The context is just a little different in this case, however. “Do not pass,” the dictionaries tell me, as opposed the more emphatic will not pass!

I expected to see fast food in Barcelona, but Five Guys was nevertheless a surprise, across the street from Sagrada Familia. Five Guys’ web site tells me that there are currently seven locations in the city, and 28 in Spain all together, with 13 of those in greater Madrid.

Model of Jesus’ head, on display in the small museum in the basement of Sagrada Família.

Cava sangria.

“This variation of sangria called Sangria de Cava in Spanish is made with the sparkling wine Cava, which can be white or rosé,” says Allrecipes. “The name Cava is a protected designation of origin in the European Union, which means that only sparkling wine produced in certain areas of Spain may be sold under that name. To make Cava Sangria, you can use another sparkling white wine instead. The rest of the ingredients is pretty similar to sangria. Cava Sangria often includes orange liqueur.”

Stickers on a wall in Barcelona. A common thing to see. No Buc-ee’s sticker. Not yet.

I took a picture of someone taking a picture of seemingly uninterested musicians, in Parc de la Ciutadella.

Sometimes you’d see the independence flag. Not that often, however. The latest effort at independence fizzled, after all.

Near Palau Güell, you can find the Gaudi Supermercat, Art Gaudi Souvenirs, and the Hotel Gaudi.

Not everything in the area had Gaudi’s name slapped on it. If we’d been hungry, we might have bought kebabs from this fellow.

Elsewhere, more Barcelona flowers.

Finally, manhole covers. Like Dublin, Barcelona had some good manhole covers.

Which is tapa de clavegueram in Catalan, at least according to automated online translation. Now you know.

Ramon, I Hardly Knew You

Posted on June 27, 2023 by admin

Going to a place like Spain reminded me of how ignorant I am of a place like Spain. How is it I knew little to nothing – except maybe the name, and that he was a painter – about Ramon Casas before I encountered his work up on Montserrat?

Which speaks of another spot of ignorance. I knew there was an art museum as part of the Montserrat complex, but I didn’t know anything about it. When I found out that our combination ticket included admission to the museum as well as the basilica and Our Lady of Montserrat, I figured we’d find a good collection of medieval art reflecting religious themes, as medieval art tends to do.

I was wrong. The Museum of Montserrat does indeed display some medieval works, but only in the first rooms, as well as a collection of varying images of Our Lady of Montserrat, plus Byzantine and Slavic icons. But there is also pre-Christian ancient artwork, and European paintings and sculpture from every century after the Middle Ages petered out, including the 21st. All together, about 1,300 pieces.

Less surprising is its large collection of Catalan art, and in one of those rooms I made the acquaintance of Casas. I could hardly miss him. Here’s a detail from the first painting I saw of his, “Madeleine” (1892).

Wow. The museum has this to say (mechanically translated) about its Casas collection: “More than twenty works by Ramon Casas (1866-1932) are preserved in Montserrat… His works convey the atmosphere of Paris, with portraits in interiors where Casas focuses on the detail in the female figure, immersing the viewer in the actions and attitudes of the characters. On the other hand, they also reflect the painter’s taste for the folklore of the time, with ladies wearing mantellines, combs, shawls, and where bull races are frequent….”

I decided to take a few more detail shots of Casas’ work. In order: “La cigarreta” (1906), “La religiosa” (ca. 1920), and “Júlia” and “Cordovesa,” both undated.

More specifically, I wanted images of his female faces, of which he seems to capture their essential allure.

Basilica of Montserrat

Posted on June 26, 2023 by admin

On our way to the Basilica of Montserrat last month, I was pretty sure I’d found evidence of a Spanish post office nearby.

The post office wasn’t on the same level as this bronze lion, but up the stairs next to the lion, then to the right. I got lucky, arriving 15 or so minutes before closing. I knew the word for postage stamp (segell) and some numbers, and encountered one of the few retail clerks on our trip who knew little English, but we soon worked things out, helped along (I think) by her good mood at being so near to quitting time, or at least office-closing time, and my good mood at being at the site of a centuries-old abbey in the mountains of Catalonia.

Also, I’d already addressed the cards, so it was easy for her to see where they were going. Soon the cards were winging their way to Texas, Illinois, New York and Tennessee. I wonder whether you can still send a telegram. My guess would be no.

The basilica’s front entrance.

Visitor tip: if you didn’t make a reservation ahead of time, you need to go back downhill to the tourist information office, where you can pick your package and times. Our Monday strategy – that is, not visiting Montserrat on the weekend, but Monday – worked in our favor, I believe, since we didn’t have to wait long to get into the basilica proper, or the sanctuary where the Virgin of Montserrat, or Our Lady of Montserrat, resides.

The entrance leads to a resplendent courtyard. Resplendent pretty much describes to the entirety of the basilica, which is mostly a 19th-century reconstruction of the earlier structure burned by some of Napoleon’s soldiers.

Interiors.

Access to Our Lady of Montserrat is via a staircase that leads to a hallway that curves behind, and above, the altar. A small window shows the statue in its sanctuary and, as they come and go, visitors to the statue.

We took our turn visiting the statue. It is behind glass now, but otherwise we saw what countless others have for centuries.

From 1911 Encyclopaedia Britannica: “Nuestra Señora de Montserrat, Patrona de Cataluña (Our Lady of Montserrat, Patron Saint of Catalonia), is one of the most celebrated images in Spain, and her church is visited annually by more than 60,000 pilgrims. The image is small, black, and carved of wood, but possesses magnificent robes and jewels.

“In September 1881 it was solemnly crowned by Leo XIII., who sent a crown from Rome for that purpose. As the celebrity and sanctity of Montserrat increased, so did the number of devotees. Ignatius Loyola (1491–1556) laid his sword upon the altar of the Virgin, and, placing himself under her protection, started from Montserrat to begin his new life.”

Montserrat: Camí dels Degotalls

Posted on June 25, 2023 by admin

Serrated mountain. Yes, we could see that. And by that, I mean understand why Montserrat is called that. Actually seeing the serrated peaks rising over the Santa Maria de Montserrat, a Benedictine abbey some 30 miles northwest of Barcelona, was a little difficult on late morning of May 22.

Seeing the countryside below was no mean feat either.

Still, the abbey complex was visible enough. Besides, the clouds burned off as the day went on.

During our look around, we made an acquaintance with these figures.

We found a path, more-or-less level, that wound away from the complex. Along with the clouds were cool temps, a little below 20 C., making for a pleasant extended walk. With views.

Even better, almost no one else was on the path, unlike the fairly crowded abbey complex. After barely any time at all, the path takes you to a memorial to two famed Catalans. I won’t pretend I didn’t had to look them up: Josep Rodoreda and Jacinto Verdaguer. Each had a distinguished career as a composer and a poet, respectively.

They collaborated on a piece called “Virolai de la Virgen de Montserrat” (1880); music by Rodoreda, lyrics by Verdaguer.

Soon, depictions of the Madonna and Child were to be found on the mountain side of the path, at regular intervals.

Tile embedded in stone. Quite a variety. A small sample:

The path, and the Madonnas, keep going for quite a ways.

Eventually, the Virgins petered out. At some point, the path had left the grounds of the abbey, which are quite extensive, and entered Montserrat Nature Park. Or maybe we didn’t get that far, but anyway we turned around about a half-hour in, so that made a full hour.

I didn’t know, until after we’d returned from Spain, that we’d taken a walk on a part of the Camí dels Degotalls. From what I can piece together, it is the starting link in one of the feeder trails into the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage route. How about that. We had no idea that we’d hit the pilgrim trail, though an hour on the trail might better be called a micropilgrimage.

I enjoyed one particular paragraph from a machine translation I got (Catalan to English) for this page.

The itinerary is available to everyone. The Paseo de los Degotalls is very close to the walls that collapse from the plans of the trinity, located 200 meters above the path. Below, with the Pyrenees in the background, the plain boils with vitality.

Recinte Modernista Sant Pau

Posted on June 22, 2023 by admin

And this is?

You guessed it, a former hospital. More specifically, the entrance building to Recinte Modernista Sant Pau in Barcelona (as its web site seems to style it in Catalan). Formerly, Hospital de la Santa Creu i Sant Pau. I defer to the succinct article about the place in Atlas Obscura.

“In the late 19th century, Barcelona was expanding beyond its old city walls, and beyond the Hospital de la Santa Creuwhich had served the city since the early 1400s. In 1896 a wealthy Catalan banker named Pau Gil i Serra died, leaving behind a will that requested his estate be used for a new hospital that would utilize the newest available medical technology.

“Catalan architect Lluís Domènech i Montaner designed the site, which would represent the merging of six of Barcelona’s hospitals… Sixteen of the structures were built in the Modernist style and, though guidebooks and tourists often overlook the site, make up the largest Art Nouveau site in the world.”

“The Hospital de Sant Pau was fully functioning until 2009, when a new building, erected in the northern half of the complex, took over the duties. Several of the historic buildings were refurbished over the next several years. The site, designated as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1997, reopened to the public in 2014.”

A few details.

Not to neglect the detail underfoot.

Murals and mosaics.

In its time as a healthcare campus, each building had a specialty, or set of specialties. The buildings opened onto gardened plazas; windows provided natural light to the building interiors. Many more modern hospitals are still playing catchup in those regards. Restoration work began in 2009 and is ongoing.

Some of the interiors are exhibits, such as a recreation of an early 20th-century hospital room, when the facility was new.

Some wards are unrestored, and there’s scaffolding on some of their outsides.

Other buildings house various international NGOs associated with health, such as the Barcelona office of Eurorids, Rare Diseases Europe.

The front building is event space.

Gobsmacked, I was. The place made me smack my gob. Amazingly unlike any notion I have of a hospital. Guess I have to revise my notions of what hospitals can look like.

Castell de Montjuïc

Posted on June 21, 2023 by admin

Late in the afternoon of our last day in Barcelona, May 22, on the way back from Montserrat, we spotted this building from a distance.

We weren’t sure what it was, and it was too far to wander over for a look considering we’d spent the day on our feet, bringing them to a slow-burn. I’ll figure it out later, I thought, and so I have: it is the Palau Nacional (National Palace). Main site of the 1929 world’s fair and current home to the National Art Museum of Catalonia.

This is the view back to where we were at that moment. Ah, well. Metro Barcelona’s a big place; can’t see everything in a few days.

The palace is on Montjuïc (Jewish Mount), a broad hill overlooking the city and the Mediterranean. It is large enough that, when we visited Castell de Montjuïc a few days before, we didn’t realize the palace was up there as well.

Plus a lot of other things: some former Olympic structures; the Magic Fountain of Montjuïc – I assume that’s a fanciful name – Fundació Joan Miró (a museum); a large cemetery including the graves of Miró, doomed Catalonia President Lluís Companys, anarchist Buenaventura Durruti, and about a million other permanent residents; a medieval Jewish cemetery; some botanic gardens and some other museums. Enough sights for another couple of days, at least.

Castell de Montjuïc is a fortress dating from the mid-18th century, though there were earlier fortifications up there. One way to get there is by cable car. I knew that because before the trip my friend Tom Jones had told me about a cable car ride he took up to a cool fortress during his visit to Barcelona some years ago, though he couldn’t remember the name; and then from the roof of Barcelona Cathedral on our first day in town, we saw a cable car running up the hill. We determined to go.

First you ride the subway to a stop at the base of the hill. Then you ride a funicular that is part of the transit system (our five-day cards were good on it) part way up the hill. Then you ride a cable car, which costs extra, to the walls of the former fortress.

The flag of Spain wasn’t to be seen on the walls. That means one thing for sure: Franco is still dead.

Tom was right. It’s a cool old pile of stones.

With a cruel past down the centuries, up to fairly recent times. Republicans and Nationalists both languished in its cells.

A set of reproduced photos notes that Companys was executed in the courtyard in 1940. He got away from Franco for a short while, but didn’t go far enough. Vichy France handed him over.

In our time, the fortress is a peaceful place with terrific views of the city.

And of the sea, which reveals a Barcelona of little interest to most tourists, but of considerable importance to the regional economy.

Barcelona is, and has always been, a port for commerce, and is among the top 10 container ports in the EU. Note also the cruise ships behind the container terminal. I assume that’s where they dock to turn loose their hordes. They’re the reason I had to book the Sagrada Familia ahead of time.

One more thing: a small plaque marking an important spot in the history of measurement. Especially for the French. The castle was one of the few places in Barcelona we saw signs in Catalan, Spanish, English and French. Usually tourist signs were only in the first three of those languages, which might well annoy the French. Heh.

Anyway, this plaque was French only, concerning the history of the meter.

The meter was to be one ten-millionth of the distance from the Equator to the North Pole, according to French revolutionists, but how to determine the length?

“In 1792, astronomers Pierre Méchain and Jean-Baptiste Delambre set out to measure the meter by surveying the distance between Dunkirk, France, and Barcelona, Spain,” explains NIST. “After seven or so years of effort, they arrived at their final measure and submitted it to the academy, which embodied the prototype meter as a bar of platinum.”

The southern end point for their measurements was atop Montjuïc, as noted by the plaque. I’m sure the French scientists did their best, but this was the 18th century, after all, and they didn’t quite measure it right. Peu importe, a meter is a meter. (The length of the path traveled by light in vacuum during a time interval of 1/299792458 of a second; easy to remember, no?)

One of the cooler things to find on this Catalan pile of stones, I think.

Palau Güell

Posted on June 20, 2023 by admin

More Gaudí. More Güell. Visit Barcelona, and they come up time and again. If you have an interest in the built environment, that is, or follow guidebook and web site recommendations.

Gaudí wasn’t always so well known among English-speakers, if my 1929 EB is any indication. He has no entry. Neither does Eusebi Güell, which is a bit more surprising, considering his prominence as a Catalan industrialist – foodstuffs, wine, cement, more – in the freewheeling late 19th century, and indeed as a local politician and one of the richest men in Spain. Of course, we moderns have found skeletons in his closet, or at least the family closet, by modern standards.

These days, Güell is best known as a patron of Gaudí, who (among many other things) designed him a mansion in the 1880s that is posh almost beyond belief: Palau Güell.

The mansion is just off La Rambla. We strolled for a time down that thoroughfare, as much of Barcelona and its tourists seem to do all of the time, and had jim-dandy seafood al fresco at tourist prices (entirely worth it) at a small joint near the entrance of La Boqueria market, which was closed for Sunday.

La Rambla looked a lot like this, except we saw a lot more t-shirts and shorts.

La Rambla, 1905
Wikimedia/Montse liz

The front of Palau Güell.

The interior, as I mentioned, is posh, and a little hard to photograph. Still, I took some details, such as the basement, where carriages and horses were kept.

Stained glass near the main entrance celebrating Catalonia.

The dining room.

A view of the back, including ironwork on the balconies.

There was a lot else besides, but what I really enjoyed were Gaudí’s rooftop chimneys, which is the last place one visits. Some of the more famed chimneys anywhere, I believe.

They come in singles.

Or groups, depending on how you look at them.

The crowning star.

I was also able to create images of Barcelona rooftops from this vantage.

You know, just like Picasso. I must be in my Blue Period.

Parc Güell

Posted on June 19, 2023 by admin

It has happened to me in a lot of places over the years, and I can’t quite account for it. In various parts of the United States, but also in Europe and Australia – anywhere I might blend in with a crowd, including places where I don’t speak the language. What happens: a stranger asks me directions. It happened in Barcelona, too, during our return from Parc Güell (Güell Park), down a fairly steep slope in the Gràcia district.

This street wasn’t our actual path, but branches off from it and gives some idea of the hill you need to climb – partly assisted by an outdoor escalator at one point – to reach the park.

It was a neighborhood of political graffiti as well. A whiff of old Barcelona, I guess. Much of it in English for some reason.

While coming down the slope, Yuriko had gotten somewhat ahead of me, so I was walking alone for a few moments. A woman with some small children in tow asked me directions to the park in Catalan (or Spanish). I was able to point in the direction I’d come and say “park,” which conveniently is the same in all the relevant languages. She seemed happy to hear it, and I was certain I’d given her some correct information.

Parc Güell is a large place, though only a section of it includes architectural elements by Antoni Gaudí. The city has charged admission to that section for the last 10 years or so.

“[Industrialist and Gaudí friend] Eusebi Güell entrusted Gaudí with the project of making an urbanization [sic, neighborhood] for wealthy families on a large estate he had acquired in the area popularly known as Muntanya Pelada,” the park’s web site (machine translated) says. “Its situation was unbeatable, in a healthy environment and with splendid views over the sea and the Plan de Barcelona.

“In October 1900, the land began to be leveled and the works went at a good pace. On January 4, 1903, a description published in the Yearbook of the Association of Architects stated that the two pavilions at the entrance, the main staircase, the shelter or waiting area, the external fence, the viaducts and part of the large esplanade, as well as the water evacuation system [sic, were complete? Under way?]”

In any case, only two houses were ever sold, so as a new neighborhood, the place was a failure. Eventually Güell’s heirs sold the would-be development to the city. The common-area work that Gaudí did remained, to great acclaim in future years.

A path from the entrance leads to a large esplanade, or perhaps best called a terrace, originally planned as a place for outdoor shows.

An undulating bench marks the edge of the esplanade.

It offers a sweeping view of Barcelona, plus other Gaudí structures in the park.

It’s a popular place.

Gaudí collaborator Josep M. Jujol did the bench mosaics.

Stairs lead down from the esplanade, which is supported by 86 columns that form the Hypostyle Hall. It was supposed to have been a sheltered marketplace.

From there, the Dragon Stairs. The figure is actually a salamander, I’ve read.

At the base of the stairs is the Porter’s Lodge, which houses exhibits about the 19th- and 20th-century history of Barcelona. Its interior walls are bright colors.

Other parts of the park include the paths and viaducts that Gaudí designed. We did some wandering.

I was reminded a bit of Brackenridge Park in San Antonio, but the similarities aren’t really that deep.

Lush bursts of flowers adorn parts of the park.

Springtime in Barcelona. There’s a romcom in there somewhere. Probably not a very good one, but how many are?

Sagrada Família

Posted on June 18, 2023 by admin

In a (mostly) low-rise town like Barcelona, high-rises stand out. Even unconventional high-rises. Even one of the world’s most unconventional high-rises, Sagrada Família.

You can see the basilica and its modern construction cranes from the roof of Barcelona Cathedral.

Or from Parc Güell.

From the Montjuïc Cable Car.

Or from the entrance of Recinte Modernista de Sant Pau, looking down the fittingly named thoroughfare Avinguda Gaudí.

In full, the structure is Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família. Lauded around the world these days. Not everyone has had praise for basilica down the years, however.

George Orwell was not, of course, a tourist in Barcelona in 1937, but he did visit the Sagrada Família at one point, which he mentions in Homage to Catalonia.

“For the first time since I had been in Barcelona I went to have a look at the cathedral – a modern cathedral, and one of the most hideous buildings in the world. It has four crenellated spires exactly the shape of hock bottles. Unlike most of the churches in Barcelona, it was not damaged during the revolution – it was spared because of its ‘artistic value’, people said. I think the Anarchists showed bad taste in not blowing it up when they had the chance, though they did hang a red and black banner between its spires.”

Sage about much, but Orwell wasn’t right about everything. Still, before I visited Barcelona, I was a little skeptical myself. Something that receives that much praise inspires a bit of skepticism, or should, and the many pictures I’d seen didn’t quite convey greatness, at least to me. Oddness, yes. Maybe strangeness for the sake of strangeness, as envisioned by Antoni Gaudí and carried on for decades by his successors down to the present day, but not to completion just yet.

So on our first morning in Barcelona, May 18, after a pleasant breakfast in the hotel, and a walk of only a few blocks, we approached Sagrada Família from its western corner. Despite its height, basilica emerged into view only as we rounded the last neighboring block. Then it was time to gawk.

Often enough images don’t do a place justice. That is really the case for Sagrada Família. Whatever skepticism I had evaporated. It has a presence, rising there in front of you. It is still quite a strange church, but a great strangeness — a strange majesty? — expressed in innumerable details.

Naturally, despite realizing that seeing the structure with my own eyes is the best way to experience Sagrada Família, I proceeded to take a lot of pictures. We passed by the structure more than once, so I captured it at different times of day.

As I said, innumerable details.

One side is the Nativity Façade, mostly completed while Gaudí was still alive. He was fatally struck by a streetcar in 1926 at age 73, and is buried in the basilica’s crypt, which was closed when we visited. As you’d expect, that side celebrates the birth of Jesus.

The other side is the the more austere Passion Façade, a more recent completion, though expressing Gaudí’s ideas.

I didn’t know who Japanese sculptor Etsuro Sotoo was. Yuriko did, and she was keen to see the large door to the basilica that he designed, which is in the Nativity Façade. The door’s leaf motif not only includes many leaves in bronze and glass, but also some creatures that live in the underbrush.

That was the door through which we entered the basilica on the afternoon of May 19. These days, you have to book a tour to do so, which I did weeks before we arrived in Barcelona – the only thing I booked ahead of time for the trip besides the visit to the Book of Kells and the Long Room.

In we went.

Too many distinctive features to name, but what struck me most of all were the columns supporting the ceiling, which branched like trees toward the top.

There was no shortage of other tourists admiring the place, but the vast space inside held them all pretty well.

Everyone takes pictures.

I wonder how many tens or hundreds of thousands a day. Or an hour.

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling

Tag Archives: Spain