(Missed yesterday’s post? Take a look at Day One)
I’d decided on a 6:30 start for my first full day in Spain. I’m not entirely sure why as I wasn’t planning on getting the train to Montserrat until after 10:30. So after a short lie-in, during which time the news had told me I was in for a dry – if not sunny – day, I headed out, camera in hand, to see what I could snap.
The area around the hotel which had seemed so rough-looking and quiet the day before suddenly sprung to life. Traffic tooting at each each other in that very European sort of way, pedestrians snaking their way through stationary vehicles and workmen returning to continue with the large-scale construction projects which were dominating the neighbourhood. Health and safety clearly isn’t a big thing in Spain, with tower cranes loading from the street and those of us on foot being diverted into live traffic to get around the closed pavements.
Getting to Plaça d’Espanya wasn’t an issue and I collected a leaflet on Montserrat whilst there. It confirmed what I’d read on the Internet and in my guide book about the Tot Montserrat ticket. This gets you to Montserrat, up the rack train and cable cars, entry into the museum and even provides lunch. All this for only €36, which I thought was a bargain. As had seemed to beset this trip from the off though, something else occurred to temporarily darken my day. The ticket machine at Plaça d’Espanya wouldn’t give me the ticket I wanted. Again and again I got an error message to inform me that I needed to speak to a member of staff (I should point out that there are no kiosks at Plaça d’Espanya and all tickets are purchased from machines). I located a chap in a burgundy jacket who told me which ticket I needed to buy. It was €15 and would only get me there and back, with a journey on the rack railway to elevate me to the monastery. As my Spanish is almost non-existent and his English wasn’t too great either, I decided to just go for it. Only it wouldn’t take my €50 note. There was a little light informing me that they were indeed accepted, but no, it wasn’t to be. I needed to find a cash machine and left the station in search of one. It was only a few minutes walk before I came across a Santander. Which gave me another €50 note along with my €20. It seems that if you want money you can use in ticket machines in Barcelona you must deliberately take it out in small amounts.
On the way back to the station I noticed a tourist information kiosk, so stopped to ask about the Tot Monserrat ticket. Fortunately the woman at the desk spoke very good English and informed me that the ticket was currently unavailable because the cablecar was broken. It wasn’t the answer I really wanted, but at least now I knew.
Back underground at the station the machine took my €20 note and I hopped on the R5 to Manresa, which stopped at Montserrat en route. A very useful announcement in English informed those of us who could understand it that a further announcement would be made when the train was approaching the station where we needed to alight.
The rack railway train was awaiting us at the station when we arrived, which then proceeded to take us up the side of the mountain. And what views through the window of this modern, yet still rickety, vehicle! As we climbed, the valleys and hills beneath us began to grow in size and number. The shear drop just outside would be enough to turn any vertigo sufferer mad.
At the top you’re treated to a superb view off into the distance, broken up by the frankly phallic-looking rock formations which so define Montserrat.
The first task was to take a couple of pictures, as this was kind of the point of travelling there in the first place (though up until that moment the camera hadn’t been out). After a fifteen minute walk I decided a spot of breakfast was in order and so headed back to La Cafeteria where I wolfed down a large custard croissant and washed it down with two very milky cups of coffee (which I was becoming very partial to by this point). Before I could get there though I was accosted by a woman selling cheese, who was so intent that I should buy some, she made me try every single type that she had on offer. Not that I’m complaining mind – I do love a good bit of cheese. And these were some very good bits of cheese. In the end she twisted my arm into buying a large wedge of sheep cheese, which was very strong and ever-so flavoursome (what little remains is sitting in my fridge. I think I shall finish it off after I’ve written this post!).
A set of stairs then whisked me up to the monastery, which is a very striking, very large and very square building perched on the side of the mountain. It’s sort of the exact opposite of La Sagrada Familia down in Barcelona (see part three of these posts for that). It was also a lot newer-looking than I’d expected and it’s 18th century facade doesn’t seem at all to be succumbing to age. The same can’t be said for all of the statues however, with many missing noses or hands. I took a few pictures as well as some within the courtyard of the building itself.
Then it was over to the museum, whose entrance is situated on the same level as the main monastery building. Amongst the art and antiquities on display, the museum also housed only three patrons whilst I was there. And one of them was me. I found this rather surprising as on top of the huge number of paintings of Montserrat, religious iconography, Mesopotamian sculpture and Egyptian artefacts were a number of paintings by artists even I’d heard of; Picasso, Dali, Monet and Caravaggio. Unfortunately photography wasn’t allowed in the building, as the other two visitors discovered when chased down by a security guard who’d been watching them on the CCTV.
After my little foray into all that culture it was back to the cafe for a rather suspicious-looking giant sausage. In the words of Blackadder’s Mrs Miggins, “he’s made that horse’s willy last all morning”. Anyway, moving on…
Once lunch was out of the way I decided to climb a bit further up the hill. The Funicular of St Joan would normally have taken me right to the top, but it wasn’t currently operational due to its annual maintenance cycle. So another reason I couldn’t purchase that Tot Montserrat ticket. This meant the views from the side of the hill would have to suffice. I did manage to take some pictures of the statues that line this route though, which I would have missed had I taken the funicular.
Looking down into the valleys below, one can see that although there are vistas here of staggering beauty, the area is still very industrial. Road and rail wind their way between factories and warehouses. A crane is a sign that more building is to come, likely to be another of the large apartment buildings which dominate the once picturesque towns below.
Before I headed back down to get the train for my return trip to Barcelona, it was back to the cafe for one last cup of coffee and a cake, and a trip to the gift shop to buy something for my tat collection. I make a point of buying something cheap and tacky whenever I visit somewhere new. Something that represents the place I’ve been, but something that is also cheap and awful; something you would never, ever want to put on display in your home. I opted for a little statue of the Virgin Mary and baby Jesus. My, my, it really is tacky (as this picture will no doubt demonstrate)!
The journey back to the hotel was generally uneventful, although I did notice that there was an extraordinary amount of graffiti. Not just on along the side of the railway as you’d see in England, but all over the houses and flats we passed. Whether the graffiti artist is more prevalent in Spain than in England, or if we’re just more adept at cleaning it off, I don’t know. There were also a large number of run-down villages and some which appeared to be completely derelict. Houses without roofs, old factories being used as makeshift homes, road projects apparently abandoned. Unless someone knows differently and can offer an alternative explanation, it appears to me that the area surrounding the seemingly rich Barcelona is extremely poor and desperately in need of investment.
Once at the hotel I decided I wanted to what the world go by. This wasn’t possible from my room as the window opened out onto the side of a factory. So I bought myself yet another coffee and found a seat in the cafe / bar / reception area with my book. I say I found a seat, but there were around a hundred to choose from and they were all unoccupied.
As a slight aside, I happened to spend ten minutes (and €2) accessing the Internet from Travelodge’s kiosk. It was using an archaic version of Internet Explorer – possibly even predating IE6. If you’re staying there and want to use the Internet, be warned that it doesn’t handle modern websites very well at all and that you may well be wasting your money if you’re after doing anything from the Web 2.0 era and beyond.
So that was day two. Montserrat really was lovely and seen in almost perfect weather. That morning’s news report had been clearly wrong and the sun they said would not make an appearance was out in full force. Hardly a cloud in the sky, and although a coat was a must, it was just the right temperature for a day’s walk.
The photographs from day two are now on Flickr and in the Photo Gallery.
