Our Lucky Day

Where to begin?

Let me start by saying a couple of things:

1) It's hard to find time to write and upload photos when there is so much to see and do. Sorry, we'll try to do better.

2) I have videos of what I'm going to describe. We'll try to post one here or on our photo site but still shots may have to do for now.

Maybe the best thing about traveling are those "you've got to be kidding me" moments. You know, when you stumble across some super-beautiful plaza or building you've never heard of or when you get into a city in a foreign country and see a poster advertising one of your favorite bands playing that night or when you rent a scooter and drive miles from the tourist area to find a pristine, mile-long stretch of beach populated only by fishermen and their families. To some extent, we all live to experience those moments whether on a vacation or just on a weekend trip with your friends. The necessary routine of work and daily life keep us from pursuing them constantly but those moments of joy are what motivate us. Every once in awhile, though, you happen to be in the right place at the right time and something happens that is totally unexpected and undeniably cool.

A few days ago, Tami and I visited the famous cathedral by Antoni Gaudi, La Sagrada Familia. Gaudi's architectural legacy is reason, in and of itself, to visit Barcelona. He worked there in the late 1800's into the early part of the twentieth century. His works are large, livable sculptures as much as they are buildings. That modern architects like Frank Gehry get so much press for, in many senses, re-working Gaudi's themes, testifies to how profound his impact has been. Of the 650 or so cultural monuments on this planet designated as UNESCO World Heritage Sites , seven works (taken collectively as one group) belong to Antoni Gaudi. His still unfinished masterwork is La Sagrada Familia. Construction on it began in the late 1800's. I will consider myself very lucky to be alive to see its estimated completion date of 2050. Pretty much everyone I've ever talked with who's been to Barcelona counts a visit to this building as the highlight.

We came to Barcelona to do and see a few things: sample the late-night life, wander the medieval alleys of the older parts of the city and see buildings by Gaudi and other 'Modernisme' architects. We'd visited and photographed several by the time we got to Sagrada Familia. We purposefully saved that one for the climax. No building from this period is anything like Sagrada Familia in terms of size and scope. Gaudi's other buildings, remember, are counted among the most noteworthy on the planet. This one, though, was one man's attempt to design a cathedral on a scale with the greatest cathedrals of Europe. Though the builders still have a few decades to go, many would agree that Gaudi fulfilled that goal completely. I've visited quite a few epic churches around the world. Sagrada Familia is unlike any other. I could go on and on. Suffice it to say, these people are building another Taj Mahal.

If the building itself wasn't freaky enough, we had a surreal sky over the city. A large and very dark storm filled the sky to the north and west. As it moved in, the occasional flash of lightning set the stage for a gothic experience straight out of Frankenstein. There was no foreboding. We felt like we were getting a special show.

From the first minutes we were in the building, I had that "you've got to be kidding me" feeling. The support columns were as big as redwoods with flutings and carvings unlike any 'conventional' church. There were oval starbust capitals and fluting that doubled each one fourth of the way up from the floor. As we climbed the main structure then the towers, more and more whimsical and playful details unfolded: huge gargoyle-like decorations shaped like conch shells, a pair of legs protuding from a wall above a stained glass window 150 feet above the street, peephole views of Barcelona through eggplant shaped openings. Gaudi set up lots of little landings and balconies so climbers could stop and enjoy different perspectives. At each one, people lingered and snapped photos like crazy. We did the same.

At the highest point, some three hundred and fifty feet above the city, you cross out between two towers on a small bridge. From here, we could see well out across Barcelona and the Mediterranean. As I looked to the east I saw something on the far horizon that I recognized but didn't register as real because I'd only seen things like it on video. The edge of the storm clouds were rimmed by a clear, evening sky but, just in front of the edge of the clouds and stretching from them to the ground was a long, slender....bending....dark line. Bending. At first, I didn't even pay attention. I had to see it a second time before I even questioned what it was.

Growing up in the Midwest, tornados take on a mythic aura. The twister from Wizard of Oz seems much more real when you've had to head to the basement during summer warnings. The potential for harm notwithstanding, I'd always wanted to see a tornado in person. Now, from this most romantic (and exposed) of perches, I was not only seeing a tornado but one that was hovering over the Mediterranean just off the coast of Barcelona....and coming slowly our way. Not only was this a tornado, this was a water spout giving its shape clear definition against the twilit sky. Talk about luck. It was still a good six or eight miles away so we couldn't hear it but there was no denying what we saw. As other people walked out on the little bridge to view the city, we pointed the twister out to them. They all either fell silent or murmured a few words and hurried down. We stayed and watched (and videoed) for a good half hour.

Something like that could have been anywhere and it would have left me dumbfounded. That it happened when and where it did gave me a little nod and wink of approval that we are on a good trail.