I’m sitting in a laundromat watching my clothes spin in the washing machine like it is the most mesmerizing thing in the world, but I realize that after so much stimulation this past week — seeing wonders of the world and spending a lot of time with some of my favorite people in the world — maybe the laundromat is the perfect place to decompress.
Barcelona, wow what a whirlwind of a city you are. As much as I hate to admit it, it took me a while to warm up to Barcelona. Not literally — it’s hot and sweaty all day and most of the night — but figuratively in that for some reason I was expecting Barcelona to be laid back, easy to get my bearings, chill. I wouldn’t describe this city as any of that, but I will keep in mind that I am here at the height of tourist season and Barcelona has many faces. Additionally, a lot of friends and family converged on the city to celebrate Ian and Sean’s birthdays (brother and brother in law), which added an element that was so fun, I didn’t dig into the city as hard as I usually do — yet. Fortunately, I still have a few days here.
Yes! What a reunion, what a party, what a time. Ian and Sean are essentially the reason I came to Europe in the first place. When they sent out the invites for a 40th birthday bash in Barcelona, I didn’t hesitate to RSVP with an enthusiastic yes. I also didn’t think that I would book a three month trip, but flying a quarter of the way around the world for a week isn’t really my style, either. And having the luxury of time and the freedom of no obligations, why the hell not? Most of the people (ok all) who attended the fiesta have some sort of commitment or obligation in their respective lives, be it jobs in academia, medicine, social work, science… the impressive guest list goes on and on…
Happy birthday! ….in November
Anyway. I digress. The first night I arrived in Barcelona I met up with my parents, aunts, uncles and cousins for dinner. After spending a lot of time with newer(ish) friends from far flung places, this felt like home, in an exotic way. We had a delightful time eating tapas and catching up on each other’s lives, planning what to do for the next week and really just reveling in each other’s company, not to mention a foreign country. Ian showed up to dinner unexpectedly and we all sang him happy birthday (even though his birthday is in November) because it is technically his birthday party, which became a theme for the week. The servers even brought him a flaming birthday cake, which we all thought was hilarious and sweet.
That night, after dinner, the cousins split off and went for some late night drinks. Around 2am my sister arrived in the city and met up with us for a tapa and a beer, before we were kicked out of the cafe. They all went one way to their hotels, but mine was in the opposite direction and I opted to attempt to walk home, with a dying phone, at 2am, in the rain. I walked for about 20 minutes before I realized that I had no idea where I was, and better hail a taxi before my phone dies. We’re obviously not in Sevilla anymore. I finally made it to my hotel around 3am and collapsed in my bed.
The next day a bunch of us had booked tickets for the Sagrada Familia. As it turned out, I accidentally booked my ticket for the following day, but one of our group had gotten a stomach bug, so I was able to use their ticket. It all worked out but it was a bit of a shit show, with no help from the seasoned traveler I consider myself to be. The Sagrada Familia, however, was the most serene basicilla (not a cathedral) I’ve ever been to. Usually, when I walk inside churches I get the heebie jeebies, but not this one.
First off, even from the outside the Sagrada Familia looks more like a cosmic castle meets a fairytale than a scary, imposing church where you will be damned to eternal hell for all your sins. Inside, the soaring arches of the ceiling and its pillars are made to look like trees, and I always feel more comfortable in nature. The abstract stained glass windows, which are cool blues and greens on the east side and bright red and orange on the west side, cast an illuminating glow into the church.
Nothing on or in the Sagrada Familia is painted. Every stone, tile, glass, whatever, is the true essence of its form, which Gaudí was insistent upon, as a tribute to the perfection of nature (and thus god but I’ll keep it at nature). The spires of the church, once finished (who knows when), will make it the tallest church in the world, but not taller than the highest hill in Barcelona, because he didn’t want to one up god.
Gaudí, the architect of the Sagrada Familia and most of (if not all) the other interesting buildings and spaces in Barcelona, was a religious zealot but in a way that differed from previous church architects that I am still trying to figure out. The guy was obviously a genius and well ahead of his time, even today’s time I would say. He saw the absolute perfection of nature, math, physics, chemistry and the sciences in general, and attributed these to god. It’s a good thing he wasn’t born a century or two earlier, because he certainly would have been burned at the stake. I mean, who knows. Who knows what went on in his head. A lot of people make conjectures, but nobody will ever know. I’d recommend swinging by the Sagrada Familia, taking a look, and deciding for yourself.
Ah my laundry is ready to be switched, which makes this feel like a good place to end for the time being.
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