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.

Less than eight hours

Our sunlight is disappearing.

Today is the last day we'll have at least eight hours between sunrise (8:01 am) and sunset (4:03 pm). Fortunately, it's not pitch black before sunrise or after sunset. Here's our backyard at 8:01 this morning:

Our backyard, on the western(ish) side of the house, at 8:01 am this morning.

We moved to Glasgow from Raleigh, North Carolina. Today, folks in Raleigh have 10 hours and 10 minutes between sunrise at 6:55 am and sunset at 5:05 pm, about 25% more sunlight than in Glasgow.

We Glaswegians won't have 10 hours and 10 minutes of sunlight again until February 22 next year.

Of course, the winter solstice on December 21 will have the shortest daylight hours: sunrise at 8:46 am and sunset at 3:45 pm, a little under seven hours of daylight. That means 17 hours of mostly darkness outside. For comparison's sake, on December 21, Raleigh will have 9 hours and 44 minutes between sunrise at 7:21 and sunset at 5:05.

The loss of daylight affects our daily patterns. For me and Jackson, it means almost all of our outdoor activities are geared for the morning. Since he usually naps for two to three hours in the afternoon, it's now getting dark by the time he wakes up from naptime. We might still make a foray to meet Mommy on the way home, or perhaps run around in the playground near our house, but for the most part it's indoor play after lunch.

Kate sees even less sunlight. She often leaves the house before sunrise and walks home in the dark.
Fortunately, she has big windows in her office, and she can sometimes take a walk at lunchtime. She does like that the early darkness makes her evenings at home feel longer.

The flip side for our currently dwindling sunlight is the bountiful sunlight we get in the summer. On June 21 next year we'll have 17 hours and 35 minutes of sunlight, from sunrise at 4:31 am until sunset at 10:06 pm. By contrast, Raleigh will enjoy 14 hours and 35 minutes of sunlight, from 5:59 am to 8:34 pm.

As I write this post, the light is noticeably fading.

Fading.

Fading.

Fading.

Sunset at 4:03 pm this afternoon.

Fading light at 4:33 pm.

Dark by 5:03 pm.

Our neighborhood in Barcelona

Barcelona had five main areas of interest for us as tourists. First was the Barri Gòtic (i.e., Gothic Quarter), the old Roman and medieval center of the city. Second was El Born, somewhat indistinguishable from the Barri Gòtic but a little trendier for shopping and nightlife. Third was the harborfront and Barceloneta, with its promenades and beaches. Fourth was L'Eixample (i.e., "The Expansion"), a modernista explosion of the city outside its old medieval walls. And fifth was Montjuic (i.e., "Mount of the Jews"), holding an old fort, the city's Olympic stadium, parks, and art museums.

The Plaça of Sant Jaume (i.e., St. James square) at dusk, facing the offices of the government of Catalonia in the Palau de la Generalitat.

Barcelona is a very large city and urban center. The city-limits population of 1.6 million ranks 11th in the European Union, while the larger urban area of 4.6 million ranks sixth in the EU, behind Milan but ahead of Berlin and Rome. (Glasgow, by comparison, ranks 40th in city-limits population with 595,000, and 34th in larger urban area with 1.2 million.)

View of just part of the cityscape from a cable car heading up Montjuic.

We chose to stay in the Barri Gòtic, instead of a fancier or swankier locale like L'Eixample. Why? Because the Barri Gòtic is the heart of the city. Many of Barcelona's tourist sights are situated in it or lie within easy walking distance. It's bordered by La Rambla, one of the city's main promenades. It has several convenient Metro stops. It overflows with restaurants and shops. And if you avoid the costly hotels, it's cheaper than a neighborhood like L'Eixample.

Why did we choose an apartment over a stay in a hotel or a bed and breakfast? The location of the apartment was excellent; if it hadn't been central, we wouldn't have stayed in it. Cost was also a consideration. It was cheaper to rent an apartment for a week than to stay in a hotel, no matter where that hotel was located. Our cheap flights from Glasgow -- only £32 pounds roundtrip airfare for each of us on Ryanair -- had helped us decide to go to Barcelona in the first place, and we didn't want to negate our airfare savings with expensive lodging.

More importantly, however, was the freedom it allowed Jackson. He had room to roam, with a living room, hallway, and two bedrooms. He had his own bedroom, which made it easier to put him to bed and more comfy for all of us than sharing a single room in a hotel. He could make noise, run, eat at his own pace, open and close the door to the Juliet balcony, and so on. It's hard to impose on a B&B (and its other guests) with a rambunctious toddler for a week. Getting an apartment also gave us more freedom for meals, making our own breakfast and a couple of dinners, as well as shopping for things like milk, eggs, butter, fruit, bread, etc.

Outside the door to our apartment building on Carrer Obradors.

Living/dining room in our apartment. (Photo courtesy of tournights.com.)

Small kitchen in the apartment. (Photo courtesy of tournights.com.)

Bedroom for me and Kate; we pushed the beds together. Jackson's room had a bunk bed, but we only allowed him to sleep on the bottom bunk. (Photo courtesy of tournights.com.)

Bathroom in the apartment. (Photo courtesy of tournights.com.)

View from our little balcony.

In the Barri Gòtic, all of your senses are actively stimulated by the urban environment. Everywhere you look are narrow lanes, often with shops on the ground floor and three or four floors of apartments above them. It's perpetually dim; many of the streets are so narrow that sunlight seldom if ever directly hits the ground. Your ears hear a constant din of conversation or impassioned arguments or shopkeeper entreaties. Though the quarter is primarily pedestrian and few vehicles are allowed onto many of the lanes -- mostly taxis and municipal service vehicles -- a single scooter or a garbage truck can reverberate for blocks.

This photo was taken near midday; no direct sunlight reached the ground on this day.

The smells can be powerful and unexpected. Since Barcelona is generally warm (it was mostly in the low 70s Fahrenheit during our trip in early November), windows and doors for homes and restaurants stand open to passersby with the smells of cooking. Unfortunately, one of the most common and pungent fragrances we encountered was urine. In a dense urban environment like the Barri Gòtic, with virtually no grass to be found, dogs pee on the streets and the sides of buildings. Well, we assume it was dogs, though we didn't see all that many of them. The smell of urine was a frequently recurring motif during our trip. Battling the smells are early-morning battalions of powerwashing and streetsweeping, leaving wet flagstones that often don't dry completely before the next washing.

Hmmm, which of these stones should I pee on?

Your sense of touch is constantly engaged with the jostling and maneuvering amongst the pedestrians. Your footing is mostly secure, though some uneven roads and the endless puddles (hopefully water, but not always) can prompt an extra jolt in your step. The width of some lanes is so small that you can nearly reach out and touch the buildings on opposite sides.

Finally, you have a constant invitation to taste, with abundant choices not only from tapas bars but also dozens of ethnic varieties nearby. Just within a couple hundred feet of our sidestreet apartment were an Italian restaurant, a French patisserie, a coffee shop, a Greek restaurant, two or three tapas bars, an ice cream shop, an Irish pub, and two convenience stores.

A narrow lane in the Barri Gòtic. Just beyond that archway, in a tiny courtyard, are a few pillars left over from a Roman temple of Augustus.

Corinthian columns for the temple worshiping Emperor Augustus as a god, erected in first century B.C. when the town was called "Barcino."

This lane is in the Jewish quarter called "El Call," which literally means "narrow passage" or "alleyway." Prior to a 1391 massacre and forced conversion, around 4,000 Jews were forced to live in a handful of these narrow alleys.

Though we currently live in a city, Glasgow, and previously lived in the city of Raleigh in North Carolina, the houses where we have lived are more suburban than urban. During our visit to Barcelona, it was a nice change of pace to live in a densely urban environment with its attendant noise and bustle and activity. While we can and do walk to many more places in Glasgow than we did in Raleigh, the shops and people and restaurants and tourist attractions are not right on our doorstep like they were in Barcelona. I don't know if I would want to live in such an environment long-term -- we wouldn't do so without a decent yard for our dog -- but shaking up our usual routine was fun and invigorating.

The main drag bisecting the Barri Gòtic, Carrer de Ferran, perhaps the widest street in the old Gothic quarter.