TALES OF THE CITY

Evenings are my favourite time to take a stroll in Barcelona, when the streets are pulsing with the fourth peak hour of the day. I often wander about, discovering cute bars and cafés, stopping to feed the ducks in the park at Ciutat Vella or window-shop in the countless boutiques in the centre of the Barrio Gótico, the Gothic Quarter. All too often I get lost in the labyrinth of tiny streets and stop to pop my head inside any one of the many cathedrals for a quick ‘Oh my God!’ at the sheer magnificence of it all.

I’m not normally one to visit historical monuments, in fact I prefer to happen upon interesting landmarks on my way to other places, but there is one tourist destination that never ceases to amaze me: Antoni Gaudí’s Sagrada Familia.

This sacred cathedral is a truly arresting sight and has all the markings of the eccentric mind that designed it. The base of the church literally erupts from the earth – a molten, arched, sandstone façade that supports eight colossal spires shaped like the crown of a jester’s hat, each tapered prong tipped with a bunch of fruity baubles. The entire edifice is encrusted with baroque motifs, a frozen lava of flora and fauna. All day long, queues of tourists spread out like tentacles from the base, peering up at this theatrical tribute to the Catholic faith while waiting to climb the mile-long spiral staircase to the top – a dizzying and knee-wobbling once-in-a-lifetime must-do.

Rumour has it, the professor who presented Antoni Gaudí with his architectural degree wasn’t sure if his student was a genius or a complete lunatic. Gaudí went on to build a church to prove he was both. But he would only see one of the towers, the apse and the crypt completed before he met his demise in 1926. He was taking an habitual afternoon stroll which unfortunately coincided with an untimely encounter with an oncoming tram. To add insult to fatal injury he wasn’t even recognised as the famous Gaudí, but scraped up and taken to the morgue where he would remain for three days while morticians debated what to do with the dead hobo. Or so the story goes.

The first stones of the cathedral were laid in 1882. Today there are eight monstrous towers piercing the sky but the work is far from over. It will continue until all of the 18 towers and four façades are complete, with a finishing date set around 2041 – when I’ll be well into my seventies and Ruby will be almost 50.

Gaudí had dedicated 44 years to the project at the time of his death. He then quite literally went from being the founder of this grand cathedral to becoming part of its foundations when he was buried in the crypt on the easterly façade. An apt gesture, I believe, and one that brings new meaning to the idea of putting oneself into one’s work.

Barcelona’s breathtaking Sagrada Familia at night in October 2011.