‘Montserrat: The ride to the top was hair-raising, but the view was worth it’

Not to brag or anything, but this is my third visit to Barcelona. My first visit in 2011 was cut short a day by missing our train connection in Avignon necessitating an unscheduled stopover in Montpellier. Then on my second visit in 2015, another day was lost as the wheel on our motorhome needed repairing. So this time around, I booked five nights in Barcelona. Except I spent the first two nights and most of the days confined to my room. Seems I am just not meant to enjoy everything that Barcelona has to offer! I did, however, make use of my two remaining days, visiting places I hadn’t seen previously. Gaudì’s Casa Vicens and the mountaintop village of Montserrat.

I decided I’d walk to Casa Vicens, the first house Gaudì designed as a young architect. On my maps, it was just under an hour’s walk and just under 4 kilometres. Feeling strong, I set off. The early Sunday morning streets were quiet, mostly populated with locals walking their dogs. Scruffy long-haired small- to medium-sized dogs seemed to be the canine of choice. I mentally played the game of seeing how much the owner looked like their dog.

This area of Barcelona is quite peaceful; old and new apartment buildings line the streets. Along the footpaths or in large median strips in the middle of the avenues, hundreds of beautiful tall trees give the suburb a real green, cared-for feeling. The streets are not all parallel and where they criss-cross, the triangle of land is filled with trees and park benches – a great place to take a breather, and your dog! It’s amazing how quickly I’ve lost what little fitness I had developed over the last few months.

Many of the balconies had Catalonian flags draped over the railings. I’m sure some of them are the same ones I saw in 2011. They looked a little worse for wear. Still, the Catalan spirit is alive and well in Barca.

About halfway, there happened to be a Starbucks. Dare I order a coffee? I did, and it was delicious. I haven’t had a coffee since Fes, almost a week ago! I also ate a yoghurt with cereal, which constituted a healthy breakfast. And, coffee in hand, continued the walk. The coffee revived my flagging spirit and I made it to the Casa Vicens in good time.

I almost bought a ticket online yesterday but thought it would be the same price at the entrance. A €7 (AU$11) ticket yesterday was €14 today! I really didn’t have a choice. I paid the attendant and toured the three-storey house and the rooftop terrace. Apart from a few rooms with timbered ceilings, it was actually quite ordinary inside. Maybe Moroccan architecture has dulled my senses. I could definitely see Moorish influences, particularly in the tiles. The spectacular architecture was all on the outside. I did like seeing the original plans with Gaudì’s young signature as the architect.

The house was built in 1883 as a summerhouse for Manuel Vicens in the village of Gracia, which wasn’t part of Barcelona city at that time. The house must not have been to Vicens’ widow’s liking because she sold it soon after his death. Gaudì never lived there himself as I had thought. It was his first major project as an architect and helped establish his reputation. I love Gaudì’s talent so visited the gift shop. I was tempted by a silk scarf, not to wear, but to display on a wall, but the price of €120 was enough disincentive. Even a pencil case was €39. Beautiful, but like the scarf, it stayed on the shelf.

My daughter arrived from Toulouse tonight and I met her at the Metro. I now know my way around quite well so for once, strode out in front and led her back to our hotel. I could see she was impressed. Being a Sunday night, many of the local restaurants were closed so I took her to the café on the corner. We ordered enough food to sink a battleship and ate the lot. The potatoes were particularly tasty. We each had two glasses of the house red, which was surprisingly good.

Our hotel room is the same as any budget hotel room you’d find anywhere in the world, but it has a great shower and gallons of hot water. After my long walk today, I needed it! Tomorrow, we are heading off to Montserrat.

We had to run to catch the 10.26am train from L’Espagna Station. Hot and out of breath, we collapsed into the only two seats we could see, laughing that we had just made it! That adrenaline rush was enough for me for one day, but on reaching Montserrat Station, we learned we were to have to take the cable car up to the monastery. I videoed the 5-minute ride for my sister, who loves cable cars. It took my mind off the actual ride. Not the most pleasant experience, but I did it! I didn’t really have a choice, unless I wanted to haul my butt up the impossibly steep mountain. The funicular railway was out of commission, undergoing major repairs. Our ticket included a tour of the audiovisual exhibit, which we did first, then to the cathedral to listen to the boys’ choir, the Escolania, who sang like angels.

Next, the museum, which was also included on our ticket. More like an art gallery, displaying works of many impressionist painters as well as many Spanish artists, as well as religious relics. There was a guard wandering around guarding what I estimated would be millions, if not billions of dollars’ worth of art owned by the Catholic Church. In the Egypt room, there was even a real mummy.

All of this history, art and culture had made me very hungry so off to the café for the buffet lunch, which was part of the train ticket too. I was looking forward to loading my plate and going back for more, but in actual fact, we were served a bowl of soup, a bread roll, calamari or chicken, with chips or veggies, not both, a piece of cake and a drink. I chose a Sangre del Toro (Blood of the Bull) red wine, which was the best part of the entire meal. I just hope the name of the wine wasn’t literal.

There was one more thing left on our ticket: The funicular railway to the very top of the mountain. And what a view! I made sure we didn’t miss the last train down because we’d have to bushwalk down the steep winding track otherwise. Back in the cable car down to the station and back to L’Espagna Station. I didn’t fancy walking back to our hotel so we caught the metro back to Sants, only two stations away, stopping at an Italian restaurant for a shared carbonara pizza with an egg on top (a new taste experience) and a jug of sangria.

Thoroughly exhausted after walking almost 10km, I fell into a dreamless sleep.