The most famous is a broad, tree-lined avenue packed with tourists that leads from the Christopher Columbus monument at the harbour to the Placa de Catalunya. But "rambla" is Catalan for a type of avenue, generally tree-lined, with a park for promenading in the centre and streets on either side. And there are plenty of them in this city fond of strolling. It's a valuable thing to know when your taxi drops you off at 108 on the touristy Rambla when you actually need the Rambla de Catalunya.
That's a 40-minute walk, which gave me plenty of time to observe that the bones beneath Barcelona's hip, modern vibe are mostly 19th and early 20th century. That's when the industrial revolution, mining and other factors conspired to make this a very wealthy city. It still feels it today. A regular grid pattern of long, straight avenues between gracious architecture, surrounded by mountains and facing the sea.
The poster child for that modernity mixed with 19th century affluence is Antoni Gaudi. His is the name and the artistic influence you can't escape. Nor should you. His buildings are fantastical, fairy tale-like dreams, seeming to have grown out of the Earth rather than come from the hands of anything as pedestrian as builder or architect.
His work is all over the city, but by staying in the Eixample district, just off the posh shopping street of Passeig de Gracia, we were within an easy stroll of three of his blockbusters: Casa Mila, Casa Batllo and the Sagrada Familia. If you only have time for one, do the last, as the other two are arguably more impressive (and much cheaper) seen from the street than inside. But it's the interior of the last that needs to be seen to be believed.
It's as if you've walked into a stage set from Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings films; if Rivendell had a cathedral, it would look like this. Magical, otherworldly, gleaming white, gold and gem tones. All sinuous curves and organic materials, based on medieval forms but inspired by sophisticated modern geometry, it's unlike anything I've ever seen. Take just one example: The dome above the altar is a parabolic one, covered with glass tiles laid on a base of polished copper and white wood, rising more like a rounded cone than the traditional shape, to a clear window. The vortex of golden light swirling down into the cathedral is jaw dropping in its intensity.
Go when the church opens (9am in winter) to get ahead of the crowds; it was getting uncomfortable as we left. Plan on at least two hours and take your time. In addition to that marvellous interior there's the fecund, stone foliage covered East front that tells the story of Jesus' birth; the brutal, cubist West front laying out the Passion of Christ under a canopy of giant bones; and a cloister that will eventually circle the whole church rather than being off on one side. We paid to take the lift up one of the towers, where you get an excellent look at the vivid mosaics and the colourful finials of giant fruit and grains that are topping various spires, along with a magnificent view of the whole spread of the city, its surrounding mountains and the sea. (If heights bother you, take the lift down rather than walking the stairs, which spiral down those honeycomb-like towers around a dark, nerve-jarring cavity.) You'll also want to pay extra for the audio guide, which provides context and details that add to the wonder of the place. You'll now be nearing 20 euro laid out, and you haven't even been in the gift shop; another reason to leave enough time to linger.
Casa Mila, also known as La Pedrera (the quarry) is in the same price bracket for admission and audio guide, and well over 20 if you stop for a coffee in the elegant upper-ground floor cafe that overlooks the Gracia boulevard. There's much less to see here, and I must say we felt a bit ripped off, but entry does give you the chance to compare Gaudi's domestic work to the church. Everyone heads for the roof here, with its strange chimneys and undulating lines. But for my money the inner courtyard was the thing to see, with its tropical vegetation, curving staircase and delicate frescos. If an apartment building could spontaneously generate from the jungle floor, you'd get this. There's an interesting museum up in the attics, which are architecturally significant in themselves with their rising and falling brick arches. The justification for the big ticket price, however, is the apartment that's been restored to give a picture of what living in a Gaudi building was like.
It's interesting to see how the curving lines and figure eight of the floor plan (the building has two light wells) works with domestic architecture, and fascinating to realise that even in a relatively small family home a big chunk of floorspace went to "below stairs" servant's rooms. But the place didn't feel complete; I suspect there should have been more furniture, rugs, wallpaper and other decorative objects in the real thing. And I was disappointed that the restored apartment was up on the fourth floor, presumably the least expensive during the building's active use. Why not restore the first floor rooms of the Mila family, who built the place? I suspect the answer is that the owners, local bank Caixa Catalunya, kept the best rooms for themselves, and that the way to really see the interiors is to get invited to their corporate hospitality.
I'm left to wonder if the interiors down the street at Casa Batllo would have been more interesting, but we ran out of time. So our best views there were at 1 in the morning, appreciating the tasteful lighting on the building's blue and green accents while the crowds on the Gracia hummed around us.
That's a 40-minute walk, which gave me plenty of time to observe that the bones beneath Barcelona's hip, modern vibe are mostly 19th and early 20th century. That's when the industrial revolution, mining and other factors conspired to make this a very wealthy city. It still feels it today. A regular grid pattern of long, straight avenues between gracious architecture, surrounded by mountains and facing the sea.
His work is all over the city, but by staying in the Eixample district, just off the posh shopping street of Passeig de Gracia, we were within an easy stroll of three of his blockbusters: Casa Mila, Casa Batllo and the Sagrada Familia. If you only have time for one, do the last, as the other two are arguably more impressive (and much cheaper) seen from the street than inside. But it's the interior of the last that needs to be seen to be believed.
It's as if you've walked into a stage set from Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings films; if Rivendell had a cathedral, it would look like this. Magical, otherworldly, gleaming white, gold and gem tones. All sinuous curves and organic materials, based on medieval forms but inspired by sophisticated modern geometry, it's unlike anything I've ever seen. Take just one example: The dome above the altar is a parabolic one, covered with glass tiles laid on a base of polished copper and white wood, rising more like a rounded cone than the traditional shape, to a clear window. The vortex of golden light swirling down into the cathedral is jaw dropping in its intensity.
Go when the church opens (9am in winter) to get ahead of the crowds; it was getting uncomfortable as we left. Plan on at least two hours and take your time. In addition to that marvellous interior there's the fecund, stone foliage covered East front that tells the story of Jesus' birth; the brutal, cubist West front laying out the Passion of Christ under a canopy of giant bones; and a cloister that will eventually circle the whole church rather than being off on one side. We paid to take the lift up one of the towers, where you get an excellent look at the vivid mosaics and the colourful finials of giant fruit and grains that are topping various spires, along with a magnificent view of the whole spread of the city, its surrounding mountains and the sea. (If heights bother you, take the lift down rather than walking the stairs, which spiral down those honeycomb-like towers around a dark, nerve-jarring cavity.) You'll also want to pay extra for the audio guide, which provides context and details that add to the wonder of the place. You'll now be nearing 20 euro laid out, and you haven't even been in the gift shop; another reason to leave enough time to linger.
It's interesting to see how the curving lines and figure eight of the floor plan (the building has two light wells) works with domestic architecture, and fascinating to realise that even in a relatively small family home a big chunk of floorspace went to "below stairs" servant's rooms. But the place didn't feel complete; I suspect there should have been more furniture, rugs, wallpaper and other decorative objects in the real thing. And I was disappointed that the restored apartment was up on the fourth floor, presumably the least expensive during the building's active use. Why not restore the first floor rooms of the Mila family, who built the place? I suspect the answer is that the owners, local bank Caixa Catalunya, kept the best rooms for themselves, and that the way to really see the interiors is to get invited to their corporate hospitality.
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