Wandering in the Barri Gòtic

Just outside the cloister of the Barcelona cathedral is the Monument to the Martyrs of Independence. The five depicted men, waiting for their execution, were garroted (i.e., strangled) because of their resistance against Napoleon's conquering of Spain. The monument's placement here, adjacent to the Catalonian government offices, was deliberate.

Sculpture placed here in 1941, shortly after the communist forces centered in Barcelona fell to Franco's forces in 1939. Franco abolished the Catalan government, suppressed the language and culture, and tried to assimilate -- or Castilianize -- the region into Spain.

A majority of Catalonians favor independence from Spain (and ideally would carve out a part of southern France for their Catalan nation). Referendums for partial or total independence have reached a high of 74% of the population in support. While the rest of Spain somewhat shrugs at these separatist hopes, Catalonia seems genuinely eager to split off and form its own nation within the European Union. Wandering in the Barri Gòtic, you see a lot of Catalan independence flags.

The traditional senyera (i.e., "flag") of four red stripes on a field of gold, derived from the former King of Aragon, is transformed into a separatist flag by imposing L'Estelada Blava (i.e., "blue star"), a lone star signifying independence.

By comparison, Scotland will vote on independence next year in a referendum but polls show less than 50% support. Although a majority of Scots favor some further autonomy -- usually called "devolution" -- they do not (yet?) want full independence from the United Kingdom. It's a political question that I'll be following closely over the next year.

Just down the street from the monument and cloister is a neo-Gothic bridge connecting the Catalan president's official residence with the Catalan government building. Though it looks old, it was built in the 1920s.

Neo-Gothic bridge in the Gothic quarter of the city.

Though very few vehicles drive in these narrow lanes, some of them are designated one-way. They don't display the usual "no entry" signs, but instead have ornate "Entrada" and "Salida" signs.

Entry to a one-way street.

This is the exit for the one-way lane, so don't turn down this street from here.

Down the street in the other direction is the Catalan College of Architects, an ironically ugly building in a city of gorgeous architecture. It gets a bit of attention, though, because of the Picasso frieze that wraps around three sides. This is late Picasso, well outside of his Blue or Rose or Cubist periods. Charitably, it's called "childlike."

If it wasn't Picasso, it would be crap.

The confluence of the government buildings, cathedral, Picasso, and monument brings a steady flow of tourists. So, of course, it's a great place to set up as a street musician. The acoustics are quite good, too. When traveling, we try to stop at a fair number of buskers for a breather and to give Jackson some entertainment during our touristing.

These guys were good.

Though the Barri Gòtic is the medieval heart of the city, there's a sprinkling of sights from other eras, as well. For example, the Viceroy's Palace displays a Renaissance courtyard and a wooden coffered ceiling, and holds King Ferdinand's and Queen Isabella's 1491 contract with Christopher Columbus.

Renaissance courtyard within the Viceroy's Palace.

Coffered ceiling above a staircase.

You can see a church pockmarked from shrapnel during the Spanish civil war:

Church of St. Felip Neri.

You can visit Els Quatre Gats ("The Four Cats"), a hangout of Picasso and the first place where he publicly displayed his art. Established in 1897, the building is a rare piece of Modernista architecture in the Barri Gòtic. The restaurant got its name when the owner told friends he would stay open 24 hours a day, and they said that no one would come and it would be just him and four cats (apparently, Catalan slang for crazy people).

Els Quatre Gats.

The prices for a meal weren't bad, considering its draw as a tourist attraction.

Stonework over the front door.

Or if Roman ruins are your thing -- they're definitely my kinda thing -- you can visit the Barcelona History Museum to see an underground sprawl of ruins. Instead of the usual Roman temple or theater or government building, these ruins are of everyday life in Barcino. You see the remains of a winemaking facility, fish processing plant, sewers, clothes-dyeing plant, and other artisan workshops. It's by no means Pompeii or Ossia Antica, but you do get a glimpse of the average person or artisan from these ruins.

The Roman ruins lie beneath the Royal Palace (left) and 14th century Chapel of St. Agatha (right).

The ruins are from the 1st through 6th centuries AD.

A walkway guides you through the ruins.

Wine was processed and aged in large pottery casks. Honey and sea salt were sometimes added for flavor.

You're not allowed to go down this hallway, which meant, of course, that I really wanted to go down that hallway.

A little bit of the tile floor in this building remains.

Not a lot of art or decoration has survived, but bits and pieces of things have persisted, like part of this fresco.

This bust is from the 2nd century AD.

We were able to see all of the major Barri Gòtic sights within a four or five hour period, including a stop for lunch. Then we pressed on into the other major neighborhood of the old city, called El Born. It was the kind of day that left us tuckered out but satisfied with our touristing prowess.

Lunch with a view of the back side of the cathedral.

Tuckered out for a (too late) nap around 4:00 pm.

Barcelona cathedral and its (more interesting) cloister

Our first full day in Barcelona, a Sunday, was the busiest day of our trip. That was by design. Since it was our first day, our energy level was high. We also knew many of the tourist sites in the city center were closed the next day, Monday, so we squeezed in a lot of sightseeing on Sunday to make sure we could see as much as possible. And we wanted to make the beginning of the week busy so later in the week we'd have some free time to wander and relax.

We were up at dawn; having a toddler, that's par for the course. In the early morning, the Barri Gòtic is at its quietest. We strolled to the Gothic cathedral at the heart of the neighborhood. It stands on a spot where two millennia ago the Romans built their temple to Jupiter. Several hundred years later the Christians replaced the temple with a church; then a Romanesque church in the 11th century; and then finally the Gothic cathedral in 1450. When Barcelona got rich again in the 1800s, they made a fancier neo-Gothic facade on the western front and completed the 230-foot central spire in 1913. The spiky towers are a late Gothic "French Flamboyant" (i.e., flaming) style, depicting the towers as flickering with spiritual fire.

Western neo-Gothic facade of the Barcelona Cathedral.

"French Flamboyant" spires of spiritual flames rising toward heaven.

View of the central spire from the cathedral rooftop.

We walked into the nearly empty nave, expecting a quick tour through the cathedral. No such luck. A poorly-attended Sunday service was being held, and we could only look at a fraction of the building. No complaints here -- it is a church, after all -- so we resolved to come back later. Which we did, only to find another service being held in the later morning. So we came back yet again, late afternoon, and I finally had a chance to take a spin through the place.

As cathedrals go, it's kind of a dud. There's nothing inherently bad about the cathedral, but there's also nothing especially interesting to see. The architecture is uninspired. For me, its main architectural point of interest is that it doesn't have flying buttresses outside the walls (imagine Notre Dame in Paris), but instead incorporated those buttresses as part of the interior of the building as the ceiling supports for 28 side chapels. The cathedral's decorations (statuary, stained glass, etc.) are fine -- and especially shiny in some of the gold-covered chapels -- but there's no must-see sight in the building. A crypt houses a tomb to the city's patron saint, St. Eulàlia, who according to tradition was martyred in 304 A.D. at age 13 by the Romans after being subjected to thirteen tortures.

Looking down the nave of the cathedral, the view is partly blocked by the stone choir. The cathedral has an "ambulatory" plan, meaning you can circulate around the sides of the nave and behind the altar to visit the various chapels.

Shiny gold -- did I mention shiny? did I mention gold? -- side chapel.

Sarcophagus of St. Eulàlia within her tomb.

Each keystone of the crossing arches features a different saint.

The altar in the apse.

Tomb of St. Raymond of Penyafort, codifier of canon law in the Decretals of (Pope) Gregory IX, and patron saint of lawyers, especially canon lawyers.

Choir stalls for the high nobility, originally painted in 1518 for a gathering of the knights of the Order of the Golden Fleece to honor King Charles V. [Ed.'s note: For those of you concerned with such things, that's the Spanish order and not the Austrian or Hapsburg order, of course.]

See how the figure of Christ is shifted over a little? According to legend, this crucifix was on a ship during the Battle of Lepanto in 1571, and the body of Christ miraculously shifted to its right to avoid being hit by a cannonball. Jesus -- helluva good dodgeball player.

While we found the cathedral to be dull, the attached cloister was charming. Mostly because of the geese.

Geese?

Goose.

Yep.

In a tradition going back more than 500 years, there are always 13 geese -- in honor of St. Eulàlia's age and her tortures -- within the cloister. The geese enjoy a green and fruited garden ringed by a tall-ceilinged arcade. They have a pond in which to float and an endless supply of humans to observe. The humans like to observe them right back. Especially the little humans.

High-arched arcade creating a square around the geese.

For hundreds of years, the geese functioned as an alarm system to honk at intruders. Nowadays, there are a lot of intruding tourists.

Like this intruder, who could slip through the fence.

Hey, buddy, you got any bread?

Once all of the cathedral's 28 side chapels were filled by various wealthy patrons or guilds, they needed more space for further donors. So the cloister served not as a space for monks to ruminate on the daily teachings, but instead as a place for even more donor chapels. Another 20-30 side chapels ring the cloister. One of these spaces is now a tiny museum of three rooms with some altar pieces. And tucked into a corner of the cloister is a fountain topped by a small statue of St. Jordi (i.e., George) slaying the dragon. St. Jordi is one of Catalonia's patron saints, just as he is of England.

St. Jordi slaying a supine dragon.

Drinking from the fountain.

In our travels, we haven't encountered any other cathedrals with animals kept as pets (or guards). Compared to the generic interior of the cathedral, the cloister is a much more interesting and unique spot for visitors. If you were visiting Barcelona and pressed for time, I'd advise you to skip the cathedral altogether and just visit the cloister.

The calm before the honk.