In Motion

In Barcelona, we are constantly in motion. We get up, have breakfast downstairs, and then head out into the streets. We walk, we take the subway, we take in the sights. We take as many photos as our camera batteries will allow. We get lost, we get found. It is a blur of color, sound, and movement. Oh, and of flavor. There are bars everywhere, but these are different than the bars in the United States; these bars are all-purpose, serving coffee, food, pastries, and of course, beer and wine.

A few moments of the blur stand out.

First, our prodigal suitcase does, in fact, finally arrive. It shows up a bit late, looking ragged and in general hung over. It refuses to explain itself. We are no longer on speaking terms.

That same night, we hear noises coming from the room next to ours. The voices start loud, then get louder. It is a couple, who at first seem to be arguing, but the loud voices are interspersed with giggles. Lisa and I lay awake, wondering aloud if the night will culminate in a final outburst of passion, but that it not the case. After about three hours of auditory torture, I muster up the most authoritative voice I can at that hour of the morning, bang on the wall, and tell them in Spanish to be quiet. It works.

La Sagrada Familia. This is the still uncompleted masterpiece of Antonio Gaudi. His works use virtually no straight lines; some of his completed works look like they were pulled from the pages of a Dr. Suess book. He worked on La Sagrada Familia for decades, but died before it was complete. The sheer size and scope of the structure make the visit worthwhile.

On the advice of the hotel staff, we decide to visit the Catedral di Barcelona. It is in the Gothic District, which is easily within walking distance. The Gothic architecture of the buildings are in contrast to the energy on the streets below; we pass by a group of South American musicians on samponas, street dancers, and groups of teens and young adults in groups. There are expensive shops with bright awnings. There is an undeniable energy here.

We pay to enter the Catedral, and enter another world. In contrast to the light and music outside, the interior of the cathedral is quiet, cool, and softly lit. Tranquil. Neither Lisa or I are Catholic, so we don't necessarily know the significance of all that we see, but that doesn't take away from our appreciation of the artwork, the architecture, and the sense of sanctuary inside.

There are inscriptions in several of the stones on the ground floor, marking the graves of some of the faithful. Some of the dates are from the 1500s. A plaque on the ground level reads, 'To the memory of the 930 Priests and faithful of this diocese martyred during the Spanish civil war.'

We are ready to leave. At the last minute, however, I accidentally discover that we are allowed to go the the terrace on the roof. We go up, and we are amazed. The view is spectacular; the rooftops of Barcelona are visible clear to the sea, which is also visible. We stay for a long time, taking photos of every conceivable view.

On the way back to the hotel, we stop to have a beer and finally speak what we've both been thinking all afternoon: We will come back to Barcelona again.