Tag Archives: Spain

Spain 8: A Grotto and a Cider Tasting

Travel date: Thursday, September 18, 2025 (Part 2)

(A note to those who receive my posts by email: please visit the blog itself for better views of images.)

We left Bilbao at around noon on Thursday, September 18 (2025). Our destination for the day was the city of Oviedo, and the highway curved around the Bay of Biscay, which extends across the northern coast of Spain. Within an hour or so, the Picos de Europa came into view. This limestone mountain range is small by mountain-range standards – about 650 km2, and only about 40 km east to west and 12.5 km north to south. The Picos (Peaks) include three limestone massifs, the most rugged of which reaches an elevation of 2650 m. The Picos de Europa, which are mostly contained within a national park of the same name, attract thousands of hikers, kayakers and other outdoors enthusiasts every year.

Since the highway taken by our tour bus followed the coast of the Bay and the Picos are about 20 km south of the coast, we did not have a chance to see the breathtaking vistas of the range that are described in the travel guides – high meadows where cattle graze, lakes that sparkle, and rivers that plunge down rock faces etched with gorges as they fall toward the sea.

After driving past fishing villages and market towns along the coast, we reached the sanctuary of Our Lady of Covadonga, which features a beautiful cathedral and an intriguing network of caves. The “Lady” to whom the name of the site refers is the Virgin Mary, who is the patron saint of the autonomous region of Asturias where the sanctuary is located. The Virgin Mary and the Immaculate Conception are also the devotional focus of the “Marians” a fraternal order that was established in Poland in the 17th century, and now has communities around the world, including in Covadonga.

The Basílica de Santa María la Real de Covadonga was designed in the Neo-Romanesque style, and the exterior is pink limestone. It was completed and consecrated in 1901. It is lovely, and its elegance is amplified by its beautiful mountain setting.

According to legend, in 722 AD a Visigoth nobleman named Don Pelayo (Pelagio of Asturias) and a band of Christians set out to vanquish the Muslim overlords who ruled the area at the time. A massive Moorish force was sent to defeat them and the small group of rebels ended up in the caves at Covadonga. There, they found a statue of Mary that a hermit had hidden. Pelayo prayed to her, and as a result of her intercession, the arrows and stones the Moors were aiming at the small Christian group started to turn around and hit the attackers instead. As a result of this battle, Asturias became the only region of Spain that was able to remain independent of Islamic Rule.

The Holy Cave is a grotto carved into the cliffside where the miracle-making statue of the Virgin Mary (which has a pet name of “La Santina”) is housed. Visitors are not permitted to take photos inside the grotto, but as you will guess from the photos I did take, it is a lovely, peaceful experience to walk past the hundreds of votive candles lining the walkway and deeper in the cool cave area that leads to the statue. Several sections are outfitted with pews and other kinds of seating to accommodate small services and individual meditations.

Our final stop of the day was at a cider mill owned for nine decades by the Castañón family. There, we were treated to a tour of the facility, a cider tasting, and a lovely regional-traditional meal including fava beans, chorizo and cheese.

The area’s Tourism information site humbly (?!) declares that “Asturian cider isn’t just any drink, it’s the lifeblood of a culture, the pulse of a land. Its low alcohol content and its totally natural fermentation make it a drink of conviviality, with a strong social and gastronomic spirit that has taken it to the top of the Asturianía. When it’s poured, we’re witnesses to a hypnotic choreography. And as the stream crashes against the glass, the cider comes alive, and there’s no turning back. We drink without hesitation… it’s light, effervescent, and fuels conversation, joy and laughter. From this point on, time’s marked by empty bottles.”

I was intrigued by what we learned and saw on our tour of the facility – from the correct way to pour cider (from a height), to the harvesting and fermentation process (which involves no added sugar) and the enormous vats of cider, from which the cider is bottled and shipped to markets all over the world. The Castoñons’ is one of the largest mills in the region.

After dinner, the bus at last took us to our hotel in Oviedo. It seemed a very long time since we had left San Sebastian headed for the Guggenheim in Bilbao, but it had only been twelve hours!

Spain 7: Gehry’s Guggenheim at Bilbao

After a laid-back couple of days enjoying extraordinarily beautiful seascapes, we were challenged with a jam-packed itinerary on September 18 that took us all the way from San Sebastián to Oviedo, also on the Bay of Biscay. We did so much on September 18 that I’ve divided the day into two posts.

Our first stop was the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao. Seeing Frank Gehry’s masterpiece has been on my “bucket list” since I first heard about it, decades ago, and is one of the reasons we went on a tour of Northern Spain rather than Southern Spain (or anywhere else) last year.

Bilbao, in the Basque autonomous region in the northeast of Spain, was once a thriving centre for the metallurgical and naval industries, but it fell into economic decline in the 1980s due to the petroleum crisis and the trade dynamics created by Spain’s having joined the European Union. Bilbao, Spain’s fifth-largest “municipal agglomeration,” is located on a tidal estuary formed where the Nervión and Ibaizabal rivers join – 16 km inland from the Bay of Biscay. Major flooding of the estuary in 1983, combined with social unrest and a dwindling population (from 433,000 in 1981 to 372,000 in 1991), led to the Basque Administration’s search for strategies to revitalize Bilbao. The members of the Administration conceived the idea of requesting assistance from the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation in New York City to build a contemporary art museum that they hoped would turn the fortunes of the city around, by attracting tourists and commerce.

Within six months of receiving approval for the museum’s construction, the Administration and the Guggenheim Foundation had selected Frank Gehry as lead architect for the project. Gehry (1929 to 2025), a Canadian by birth, was already well respected as an architect before he started work on the Bilbao project, and following that achievement he created several magnificent structures in other places (including the Dancing House in Prague, the Marqués de Riscal Hotel south of Bilbao, and the Walt Disney Concert Hall in Los Angeles). However, the museum in Bilbao is considered by many to be his master work.

.

What is distinctive about the Bilbao Guggenheim is its very complex shape, which is as much a work of art as it is a functional building. Due to Bilbao’s location and its industrial history, Gehry formed the gallery from shapes that are reminiscent of sailing vessels and evoke the area’s history with the metallurgical industry. He used titanium to finish the exterior curved walls, and limestone for the vertical walls. He also made extensive use of glass and steel.

Gehry designed the many curves of the building using a computer program called CATIA, which until then had been used primarily in the aviation industry. The choice of titanium – non-corrosive and light-weight – for the “skin” allows the curvilinear aspects of the building to glow with light and glint like the scales of a fish, even on the gloomiest days. Overall, thirty-three thousand very thin titanium panels, each 80 x 115 cms, overlap like the shingles on a house.

The interior of the museum is remarkable as well – due primarily to its wide open spaces. The walls themselves have been created to bear the weight of the building and its roof, which obviates the need for complex support systems. There are three floors in the museum and 20 galleries, including one of the largest exhibition spaces in the world – the ArcelorMittal Room, which is 2,768m2 and is designed for huge art installations. Some of the smaller galleries are conventional in design; others are irregular. The highest and most notable feature of the museum’s interior is the Atrium which, due to the ingenious use of glass and skylights, is filled with natural light.

The Guggenheim Bilbao took four years (1993 to 1997) to build, and the Basque Administration’s strategy actually worked: the museum transformed the city. The galleries offer visitors works by world-renowned contemporary artists (Jean-Michel Basquiat, Yves Klein, Jeff Koons, and Andy Warhol are among those in the permanent collection), and attracts more than a million tourists a year. Most visitors, if they are anything like me, come to see the museum itself perhaps even more than they do the art within. Today Bilbao is a major tourism and commercial centre, and Frank Gehry’s magnificent facility has attracted many other world-class architects to build other unique structures in or near the city.

We had only a couple of hours to tour the magnificent facility and while we did a quick overview of the inside galleries and some of the art, we spent most of our time outside, and in the Atrium, admiring Gehry’s astonishing work of architectural genius. I would have relished another few hours or even several days in Bilbao, but I’m delighted I got to see the facility at least once!

Spain 5: Oh, how I loved San Sebastián!

The next destination on our Northern Spain tour was San Sebastián (“Donostia” in Basque), where we would spend two nights. My mind was already immersed in the area because as the bus carried us from one city to another, I’d been reading Homeland by Fernando Aramburu, translated from the Spanish (in which language the novel is called Patria) by Alfred MacAdam. Set in an imaginary small Basque town in the hills near San Sebastián, Homeland’s other major setting – the city itself – provides a real-life anchor for the novel.

I liked Homeland very much (more on both it and the Basques below), but it did not prepare me for the beauty of the city.

Our first stop was the Monte Igueldo Amusement Park, which overlooks San Sebastián from atop a high hill to the east of it. The park opened with a funicular and a ballroom in 1912, and it has been offering rides and other family-friendly activities ever since. We arrived before the park was open for the day, so it was wonderfully quiet. We were able to hear the breaking of the huge waves from the Bay of Biscay on the rocks below.

The Bay of Biscay below Monte Igueldo
Panorama

Thanks to Aramburu’s novel, I did immediately recognized the lovely curve of Playa de la Concha, the shell-shaped beach that is one of San Sebastián’s most celebrated features and, not far from shore, Santa Clara Island, which provides the city with shelter from ocean storms.

The city and the beach are as lovely close up as they are from far above.

One of the most cherished figures in San Sebastián history is Maria Christina Henriette Desideria Felicitas Raineria of Austria (her family called her Christa; 1858–1929). As the second wife of Alfonso XII (1857-1885), she became queen consort in 1879. She had two daughters almost immediately (1880 and 1882), but she was encouraged by her husband and his family to try again in the hope that she would produce a son. This she did, but the boy was not born until after his father died – at the age of only 28 – in 1885. Maria Christina was queen regent from the time of Alfonso’s death until her son (Alfonso XIII) came of age in 1902.

Maria Christina was a member of the Habsburg dynasty, the huge and ultimately massively inbred family that reigned in one way or another from the middle ages to the early modern era over more land than any other royal family in the world has ever done. (I am now reading a book about them. One thing always leads to another.) Their domain included massive territories in Europe (including the Holy Roman Empire and Spain) but also several countries in the New World. Maria Christina, who apparently – unlike many of her cousins – did not suffer from any of the disabilities that can arise from all that inbreeding, gave up her Habsburg rights upon her marriage to Alfonso, who was more interested in producing his own heir than in extending the Habsburg line.

Like me, Maria Christina fell in love with San Sebastián the first time she saw it. She ultimately purchased seafront property and had a summer residence built there, named Miramar, to which she returned for 40 summers. Since the city fell in love with her, too, a hotel, a bridge, and a lot of other things are named after her. (That last part did not happen to me.)

One of the signs at Miramar says:

“[…]They enjoyed their stay in San Sebastian to such an extent, with sea air and country strolls, Jai Alai games and fireworks, and especially the tranquillity of a city with scarcely any protocol, that she expressed interest in returning the following year.” […] “Her affable nature earned her the affection of the city’s inhabitants and she even grew familiar with the Basque language. She was the best ambassador the city could have, and there was no cause in San Sebastián that she did not support in [the capital] Madrid.”

“Euskadi” is the official name for the Basque Autonomous Community in Spain, which includes the provinces of Álava, Biscay, and Gipuzko. San Sebastián is the capital of the province of Gipuzko. Approximately 500,000 people live in the metropolitan area of Donostia (San Sebastián), 180,000 in the city itself, and approximately half of these people identify as Basque.

For centuries, the Basques had a distinct culture in parts of Spain and France, with their own customs and language; in fact, the Basque language has no known connection with any other language in the world. The Basque region was independent until the 19th century but as the governments of France and Spain attempted to suppress and assimilate the group, Basque resistance grew. During the Franco regime, the situation intensified when the dictatorship focused efforts on complete elimination of the Basque language, culture and political activity. (“During the Spanish Civil War, Nazi German Luftwaffe carried out the bombing of Guernica (Gernika) on behalf of Franco’s forces in 1937 — a traumatic event that symbolized the brutal repression of Basque identity.” Wikipedia)

I had heard of the Basques on the news during the long period of conflict between the Basque National Independence Movement (Euskadi Ta Askatasuna, or ETA) and the governments of Spain and France. The period of active resistance lasted from 1959 through 2011, and resulted in the deaths of more than 800 people. (Visit Wikipedia for information.) The ETA was declared a terrorist organization for many years by several countries due to its armed guerrilla tactics. It was not until democracy had come to Spain that Basque Country was granted the status of “nationality,” in 1978. On 20 October 2011, ETA announced a “definitive cessation of its armed activity.”

Basques (most of whom were not involved in actual revolutionary activities) continue to take deserved pride in their language, cuisine and culture, their heritage and history. The language is now taught in schools and it is estimated that nearly half of the residents of the Basque region speak it, often fluently.

The primary characters in Homeland are Bittori and Txato, a couple living in a small Basque town who are lifelong friends with another couple, Miren and Joxian. The bonds between the families are torn apart when Txato is murdered by the ETA, an organization that Miren and Joxian’s son Joxi Mare has recently joined. These four characters are all sympathetic and wonderfully delineated, as are Bittori and Txato’s adult children Xabier (a doctor in San Sebastian) and Nerea, a business woman who has lived for several years in London, and also Miren and Joxian’s younger son, Gorka. All of their lives and relationships have been badly damaged by the murder, and their situation and its implications demonstrate the kind of effect the conflict had on actual families who lived in the region during the uprising.

Now that I’ve read it, I have recommended Homeland to others several times, and for a variety of reasons. On one level it is a domestic drama set in a time of political conflict, and its specific insights into the uprising in the region at the time. Homeland was a best-selling novel in Spain and was made into a very popular tv series. The novel was described by the Dublin Literary Award, for which it was nominated in 2011, “A work of nearly unbearable suspense […] a searing examination of truth, reconciliation, and coming to terms with history.”

Spain 3: The Abbey of Santa Maria in Montserrat and the “Black Madonna”

Traces of sunlight through mist and fog put the magical final touches to this excursion. At first we were disappointed to drive into low-hanging clouds as we ascended the mountains northwest of Barcelona toward the Benedictine abbey that was our destination. But in the end, instead of forming an opaque blanket, the clouds fell into shifting curtains of mist  that revealed what was ahead of us, behind us, beside us for a few moments or minutes, then hid it away again. It was a haunting, almost otherworldly experience.

Montserrat (“serrated mountain”), the site of the Benedictine abbey Santa Maria de Montserrat, with its famous “Black Madonna” statue, is located in the Catalan Pre-Coastal Range about 45 km northwest of Barcelona. It is composed of a type of sedimentary rock called “pink conglomerate” that is formed from a mixture of hard and soft fragments including pebbles, gravel and sand, held together with a fine-grained binding compound. Over millennia, erosion – or, more specifically, the ability of this particular rock combination to partially resist it – has given Montserrat a stunningly distinctive appearance, more evocative of the limbs and digits of huge living creatures than of the jagged rock formations they actually are.

“Montserrat Mountain […] gives the appearance of being higher than it actually is, due to the fact that it rises straight up from the Llobregat River. There are no other mountains in its vicinity that come close to its height – making it look very distinctive in this part of Catalunya”  (From the very useful Montserrat Tourist Guide).

The Funicular at Montserrat

It is believed that it was during the ninth century that a group of solitary monks – of the variety that don’t talk to one another – started building the chapels that formed the foundations of the Santa Maria Abbey. Little of their work remains, although one of the original chapels – St. Iscle – can still be visited. (I just found this out today, so I didn’t get there in September. Adding it to my list of things to go back and see next time.)

Between the eleventh and thirteenth century, the monastery was officially established with the construction of a church in the Romanesque style, and pilgrims began to come to Montserrat. In 1492, one of the monks from the abbey went to the New World with Christopher Columbus, which is how one of the islands in the Lesser Antilles came to be named “Montserrat.”

The history of Montserrat Abbey is not entirely one of a peace cloaked (like the mist on its mountains) in silence and prayer. In 1811, Napoleon’s army destroyed the abbey; subsequently all of the monks but one left when the property was confiscated under new legislation. Reconstruction did not begin until 1858.

The monks were forced to leave again during the Spanish Civil War (1936 – 1939), and during this period 23 monks were killed. The Catalonia government protected the Abbey as much as it could during this period, and after the war, the monks returned and reconstruction continued. The church now standing on the site is Gothic in design.

The Black Madonna, or “Black Virgin” as it is also known, has helped to make the Abbey at Montserrat famous.

The statue, which is carved from wood, is located high above the chancel of the abbey. We did not have time to go up to see it, but we caught a glimpse from the main floor. The online tourist guide tells us that the Madonna figure “sits behind a sheet of glass, but one of her hands that is holding a sphere (which symbolises the universe) is not behind the glass. It is tradition for you to kiss or touch the Virgin’s hand whilst opening out your other hand to Jesus.”

Here is a close-up photo  from the Monastery website.

The Montserrat statue is only one of many Black Madonnas found around the world, but it is one of the most famous. Some believe that this sculpture was carved in Jerusalem when Christianity was new (possibly even by Saint Luke), was later given as a gift to monks in Barcelona, and then was hidden in a mountain during a century of Muslim rule. It was ultimately rediscovered only thanks to a miracle involving shepherds who saw light coming from a cave. The name “Black Madonna” comes from the colour of the wood, which was not dark when the statue was carved, but has darkened over time. (According to The Internet, historical analysis suggests that this Madonna sculpture is Romanesque, from the late 12th century.)

The Enthronement of the Image of the Mother of God was celebrated in 1947, and since then the Basilica’s restoration has been completed, a museum has been added, and the site has been visited by a Pope (John Paul II). Many people come to Montserrat each year for meditation and prayer, and a large hostel is located just below the abbey to accommodate these pilgrims.

My interest in sculptors in general and those from the region we visited in particular was extended when I learned that contributions to the Basilica included the chapel of the Image of the Mother of God, which was completed in 1885 under the direction of Francesc de Paula del Villar i Lozano with the assistance of “a young Antoni Gaudí.” We also saw two pieces by my latest favourite Catalan sculptor, Josep Maria Subirachs.

After we had returned from Montserrat, we and our Trafalgar group headed out for a bus tour of Barcelona that included a walk around the Sagrada Familia. The day concluded with a lovely dinner at a Barcelona waterfront restaurant in which tapas figured largely. During our travels, I became a big fan of tapas, which are called by other names in other parts of Spain. More on that in another post.

Spain 2: The Sagrada Familia, and we meet our travel group

One of our most eagerly anticipated destinations in Spain was The Sagrada Familia, the basilica in Barcelona that was designed and partially built under the direction of the brilliant architect and artist Antoni Gaudi – whose truly distinctive work we had also seen the day before in Park Güell. Gaudi’s designs are also on display in several Barcelona residences, three of which are open for tours (next time!), and other buildings.

The itinerary for the group we were joining later on the 13th for our ten-day tour of Northern Spain would include only a walk-around of The Sagrada Familia, so we booked tickets for earlier in the day so we could take our time and see the interior as well.

Our first sight of The Sagrada Familia when we emerged from the nearest Metro station. In front of us is the Passion Facade, which faces west.

Gaudi began his work on The Sagrada Familia in 1884 and continued until his death in 1926. I was surprised to learn that he was not the first architect to have been selected to design and build the new church. He was appointed to the position only after Francisco de Paula del Villar y Lozano resigned after two years’ work, following a bureaucratic disagreement. Villar had planned a fairly standard neo-gothic church for the site, but Gaudi transformed the project into his magnum opus when he was awarded the position in 1883.

A deeply religious man, Gaudi was already an acclaimed Catalan architect when he took on this assignment. “Gaudí’s work was influenced by his passions in life: architecture, nature, and religion. He considered every detail of his creations and combined crafts such as ceramics, stained glass, wrought ironwork forging and carpentry. He introduced new techniques in the treatment of materials, such as trencadís which used waste ceramic pieces.” (Wikipedia)

Gaudi became so focused on the project that he moved from his house in Park Güell, where nuns had been looking after him, into the cathedral itself. As time went on he increasingly neglected his appearance, his diet, and his hygiene. On June 7, 1926, at the age of 74, Gaudi was walking down a Barcelona street on his way to confession at a nearby church when he was hit by a tram car. Due to his unkempt appearance and the fact that he was carrying no identification, passersby mistook him for a beggar and paid him little attention. Finally someone arranged for him to be transported to a nearby hospital, where he was admitted to the pauper’s ward. It was several days before his assistants at the basilica located and identified him. By then it was too late for him to receive the kind of treatment that might have helped him to survive his injuries, and he died soon after. He is buried in the crypt of his famous cathedral.

The Sagrada Familia was only about 25% complete when Gaudi died. Aside from a few years during the Spanish Civil War, work has continued ever since, but the cathedral is still not finished. While Gaudi was alive, most of the work on the “Nativity Façade” on the eastern side of the cathedral was completed, and his wishes for the entire project had been outlined. His creation reveals the unique inspiration he found in natural forms and shapes, in his religion, and in his Catalan heritage. His vision still guides the work, despite the contributions of other architects and artists who have created or supervised the realization of various components over the years.

Like many Christian churches, the basic footprint of The Sagrada Familia is oblong, in the shape of a cross. The congregation sits in rows of pews and chairs down the middle of the nave, with the chancel, including the altar, near the top (north) end. A transept crosses the nave just below the chancel and on the east and western exteriors of the transept are doors, or portals. The main entrance, when it is finished, will face south.

As well as supporting the enormous weight of the spires that rise from the cathedral, the columns suggest trees and are finished in various natural colours.

Gaudí’s original design for The Sagrada Familia “called for a total of eighteen spires, representing in ascending order of height the Twelve Apostles, the four Evangelists, the Virgin Mary and, tallest of all, Jesus Christ. Thirteen spires had been completed as of 2023, corresponding to four apostles at the Nativity façade, four apostles at the Passion façade, the four Evangelists, and the Virgin Mary” (Wikipedia). The Jesus Christ spire is due to be finished in 2026. At 172.5 metres with a cross on top, it will make The Sagrada Familia the tallest church in the world. A couple of the towers are open (for an additional fee) to those who wish to climb them (next time!), at which point (I have read) you are rewarded with great views of the city.

The official name of the magnificent structure is “Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família.” “La Sagrada Familia” means “The Sacred Family.” A “basilica” is a special designation given to a church by the Pope, based on criteria that include its architecture, history and spiritual significance. The Sagrada Familia was consecrated on November 7, 2010 by Pope Benedict XVI, who also designated it a “minor basilica.”

The Nativity Facade was completed first, in 1930. It features three portals (representing faith, hope and love), several towers (representing The Holy Trinity and four of the Apostles), and many decorative carvings and statues. It faces east, in honour of the birth of Jesus Christ, and includes many depictions of Biblical scenes describing Jesus’s early life.

You will notice the sculpture of a cypress tree above the middle portal. It is the symbol of the Tree of Life. A person could spend months tracking down the meanings associated with the adornments that appear everywhere on and in The Sagrada Familia.

Several of Gaudi’s models for the cathedral were damaged and destroyed during the Spanish Civil War. Their restoration was overseen by Francesc de Paula Quintana, who had been one of Gaudi’s assistants. In 1954, Quintana initiated the construction of the Passion Facade, which Gaudi had instructed should be a stark, skeletal contrast to the rich and detailed Nativity Facade. The “look” is indeed different from the lavish detail that distinguishes The Nativity Facade: it is minimalist, abstract, spare and open. Themes of this facade (which faces west) include the Last Supper, the Way of the Cross, the Crucifixion, and other scenes from Jesus’s final days. Towers honour four more of the apostles.

While most of The Sagrada Familia is finally nearing completion, the Glory Facade, which faces south, in which the main entrance will be situated, is not finished. Its design represents the path to eternal glory, including Christ’s final judgement and ascension into heaven. Seven pillars represent the seven deadly sins and seven heavenly virtues.

Subirachs’s sculpture of Saint George

Josep Maria Subirachs (1927 to 2014) was commissioned to create the Glory Portal in 1987, and his distinctive style raised much controversy because his work (expressionist, abstract) is very different from that of Gaudi and the other designers involved with the project. (Note: I have no opinion on whether Subirachs’ designs are appropriate to The Sagrada Familia, but I did develop a great fondness for his work as we travelled through the region and saw several pieces he had done. Dark, haunting and evocative, his work is definitely nothing like Gaudi’s. Watch for his Crucifix in the next post.)

Plans for the construction of The Glory Facade are in conflict with the wishes of Barcelona residents who live nearby – approximately 3000 of whom will need to be relocated if the current plans are executed. With zoning issues as well as construction of the portal still ahead, a completion date in 2026 sounds somewhat optimistic.

The entry fees charged to the 4 to 5 million visitors who visit The Sagrada Familia each year are what pay for the construction. Due to the basilica’s popularity, it is wise to purchase tickets (online) several months in advance of a visit, as they are usually unavailable at the site. (One person told us that if you go to a Sunday morning service, there is no admission charge. But don’t quote me.)

After we returned to the hotel from The Sagrada Familia, we enjoyed a well-earned nap and then, at 5:30 p.m., we met with the others on our tour for the first time, in the hotel’s breakfast room. The group of about forty-five people included four or five other Canadians, a lot of Americans, two people from the UK and a family from the Philippines. Our tour guide’s name was Celia. Originally from Madrid she was extremely knowledgeable, well organized, attentive and personable. I can’t think of how she – or our driver Paolo – could have done anything better than exactly how they did it.

After some introductory remarks (such as a warning that we heard over and over again to keep an eye out for pickpockets in Barcelona), we were handed the headsets that we would use to hear our guides throughout the tour, and our luggage tags. (Our suitcases were collected from outside our room each travel day, loaded onto the bus, and delivered back to us after we arrived at our next destination. The system worked perfectly.)

Then we climbed onto our bus and were driven through Barcelona to a restaurant on a hill above the city. The restaurant where we ate is a community initiative sponsored by the Fundacion Mescladis, that works to train people in vulnerable situations (particularly immigrants) and to prepare them to enter the workforce. The staff was attentive and the food was delicious.

Update: in today’s news (October 31, 2025):

Spain 1: Arrival in Barcelona, and Park Güell

Last month we went to Spain. Now I’m going to tell you about our trip. It may take me a long time to do all the posts, because the longer I draw out this account, the more time I have to relive each stop we made along our way. Also, I want to get it right, because I have just realized that one or more of my grandkids might be reading these accounts someday, and I want them to know what I saw and what I thought. So I thank you in advance for your patience. (You can subscribe to this blog for free if you want to get an email when each new post appears, although I recommend you come back to the blog site to read it, as the photos show better here than they do in the emails.)

Spain has been on the list of countries I have wanted to visit for many years, probably since I started studying Spanish when I was in my first year of university. As my interest in art and architecture matured, I wanted to see Antoni Gaudi’s famous (so far uncompleted) cathedral, the Sagrada Familia, as well as the Guggenheim Museum at Bilbao and the Prado in Madrid. A number of years ago, I became fascinated by Northern Spain thanks to a book called Roads to Santiago by Ceec Nooteboom, and our trip took us to many of the places he’d written about. A friend who travelled widely and had lived in Europe for an extended period of time once told me that Barcelona was the most beautiful city she’d ever seen. I loved Don Quixote. I needed to see the plain where the rain stays mainly. In short, I had numerous reasons for wanting to visit Spain.

On no count was I disappointed. This was one of the best holidays ever – and all of our trips have been excellent so that’s really saying something. (Of course it helps to have a congenial travelling companion like Arnie, who seems to have grown used to my need to peer around every corner to make sure we’re not missing anything.)

This time, rather than travelling independently, we joined a tour. More on that later. But it was the right way to do Northern Spain as we saw places we would never have sought out on our own, and learned about the cultural (and historical, and culinary, and many other) aspects of different regions from people who actually live there.

We even went to France for half a day.

We arrived in Barcelona at about nine in the morning on Friday, September 12, after an uneventful direct flight from Toronto that had lasted approximately eight hours. In order to give ourselves an opportunity to explore a couple of places in Barcelona that the tour wouldn’t take us – specifically Park Güell and the interior of the aforementioned Sagrada Familia – we had booked an extra day and a half for ourselves before the group’s first meeting. Since I have a theory about jet lag that involves not sleeping on the plane, and then adhering to the local time for meals and naps and full-night sleeps (an approach that seems to work for me), after making our way by public transit and on foot to our hotel, we checked in, and then set out to have some lunch and then to find the famous Park Güell.

One of the first things we noticed about Barcelona was the number of motorcycles. According to surveys, Barcelona has the most motorcycles per inhabitant of any European city, with more than 500,000 motorbike registrations for a population of 1.7 million people.

We also noticed that Barcelona, or at least the parts of it we saw, was remarkably clean (much cleaner than Toronto, for example). This may be due in part to the fact that the standard of living in Barcelona is so high that most people can’t afford to live there: many of those who do own real estate are making a killing renting out space to tourists. So maybe they can afford to clean up after everybody else.

Overtourism is a major problem in Spain generally, and Barcelona in particular. Obviously, tourism is an important part of the economy, and they don’t want to get rid of it completely, but the effects are currently overwhelming. An article from EuroNews says that almost 66.8 million international tourists visited Spain in the first eight months of 2025 – 22.3 million of them during July and August, which is almost a million more than visited in those two months in 2024. As our tour guide confirmed later, not only has overtourism driven up prices and driven out locals, the hordes of visitors are undermining the culture and damaging the environment. Cruise ships are particularly resented as passengers typically eat and sleep on board, and don’t put any substantial amount of cash into the local economy. The graffiti we saw in English that told tourists to go away represents the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Spaniards’ unhappiness with the situation. Plans are underway to create legal and financial barriers that will at least reduce tourism in future.

I was glad we were visiting in September, when the crowds of tourists were still considerable but not as bad as they would have been in spring to late summer. Shopkeepers and people on the street whom we asked for directions were very helpful and kind, and we noted no (obvious) irritation or resentment anywhere. However, the number of times we remained lost after asking for directions did made us wonder if a few locals had deliberately sent us in the wrong direction. I actually wouldn’t have blamed them if they had. Aside from all the threats to Barcelona’s economic balance and way of life, it must get very tiresome to answer all those questions, mostly in English, asking for directions to tourist attractions, or wanting to know what the words on the menu mean.

Park Gūell is a large property that overlooks the city of Barcelona. A wealthy industrialist and art patron named Eusebi Güell bought the land to build an exclusive housing development, and then hired the already highly regarded Catalan modernist Antoni Gaudi to design the parks and gardens, walkways and carriage paths that would form the backdrop for the luxury estate.

While he was doing his design work on the park, Gaudi lived in one of the two “model homes” in Güell’s development. This building is now a museum, where furniture, ornaments and other household and small industrial items designed by Gaudi are displayed. Gaudi had moved into the house with his father and his niece after his sister died, but then his father and then his niece also died. After that, he lived an ascetic life alone, his few domestic needs attended to by nuns, until much later when he moved into the Sagrada Familia itself to focus his attention on that project. As well as being deeply religious, Gaudi was a very disciplined artist. He got up early every day and worked until late into the night. Like so many people all around the world, I am a Gaudi nut, so I am very grateful that he accomplished so much in his lifetime that we and future generations can enjoy. His work – which includes several buildings in Barcelona in addition to the Sagrada Familia and Park Güell – is distinctive and remarkable.

Park Güell was constructed between 1900 and 1914, and the stairways, viaducts, terraces, and gardens were designed to embody political and religious ideals and to reflect Gaudi’s interest in the geometric infrastructures of natural forms. His work has been described as being rooted in the Baroque, while also being much more expansive and open than the work of other artists from that era.

It is very difficult to do justice to the Park Güell with words, as is true of so much we saw in Spain, so there are going to be a lot of photo “galleries” in this series. As I mentioned above, if you’re reading this in an email message, you might want to click through to the actual blogsite in order to see the photos more completely.

In addition to the walkways, pillars and viaducts, a focal point of Park Güell is a terrace at The Nature Square that is bordered by a long (110 metres) curving bench shaped like a serpent. Designed to be comfortable as well as visually appealing, the bench was designed by Josep Maria Jujol, who was mentored by Gaudi. Its mosaic decorations are distinctive, as is the entire installation.

As it turned out, only the two model houses in Park Güell were ever built. Ultimately declared a UNESCO site, the park became a public space that is one of Barcelona’s most photographed tourist destinations. (Book weeks ahead if you want to see it!) While there is a visitor charge for tourists (and an additional fee to see the Gaudi house), locals are able to enjoy the park at no cost, anytime they want.

We were very very tired by the time we finally put our heads down on our pillows that night at our hotel in Barcelona. In addition to not having really slept since the morning of the day before in Toronto, we’d seen quite a bit of this beautiful Spanish city, travelled on the transit system, visited one of the city’s most famous destinations, seen plants and trees that were unfamiliar to these North Americans (see below), and sampled some Spanish food. We had wandered more airport concourses and city streets than we’d ever intended, hoped or wanted to wander in one day. As it turned out, aside from the lack of sleep, this would be a solid preparation for the physical demands of the following ten days.