Barcelona - 22 March

Thank goodness for the Roman Catholic faith for without it we wouldn't have so many tourists sights to visit.

Today we head out of Barcelona by train for a journey that follows a river valley past industry and townships. The journey takes just over an hour. Exiting from the train we then take a breath taking cable car ride to Montserrate (a very large mountain).

The monastrery at Montserrate nestles under and closely to the weathered granite outcrops that form the fingers of the mountain. It could not command a more breathtaking perch and I guess this is why it was chosen for the sight of the monastery.

The interior of the monastry does not dissapoint as we have become accustomed to expecting to have our breath taken away with the intricate decorations found in almost every house of God that we have entered to date. The decorations behind the alter include six large painted panels that must be at least 8 metres high and reach toward the central dome. The exquisite paintings of shepherds and angels have an Art Noveau look about them which I guess dates them to that era. Centred and about 5 metres above the alter is a balcony where we can see a niche that houses a gold statue of Mary and baby Jesus. This is what many pilgrims come to see and touch. As we watch queues of people stream across the balcony reaching to touch the outstretched hand of Mary. One couple pull their own babies hand toward the hand of the baby Jesus. "No photos please", but this doesn't stop devotees and Mary dazzles as flashes from cameras go off at regular intervals.

Not only have we entered the church to check out the decor but we are there to listen to the Boys Chior that sing at 1pm each day. We settle ourselves into a pew. Ron nips out to the toilet and comes back in to report that the weather has worsened with rain and the temperature plummeting a couple of degrees. Despite the building being lined with marble and stone it is pretty toasty warm indoors. The crowd of 100s of people also there to see the chior adds to the warmth. Ron tells me he is sure we will have to stay for Mass and that could be for at least 3 hours. I take the opportunity to fuel his anxiety. Suddenlty the bells begin to peel and we enjoy them for a few minutes. The bells stop, lights illuminate the dark space of the church, a priest immerges and heads to a microphone. He welcomes us and leads us in a prayer in several different languages. As he finishes the choir fills the space behind the alter and they begin to sing.

Ahhh...beautiful.

However, the hymn that has been chosen for the performance has some sobering and dramatic organ solos (the organ is the size of a large mini bus). This spoils the atmosphere for Ron who then, forgetting that not so long ago he was worried about sitting through a mass, decides that I need to know how dissapointed he is. Thankfully the freezing weather as we emerge from the church stops him from continuing his outrage and we head to a warm cafeteria for lunch.

We had thought to take a couple of the walks on the mountain but it has become far too cold for such outings. I spot a line of food stalls and feeling a little sorry for the obviously cold proprietors, I head over to check them out.

Before you know it I have purchased half a round of sheeps cheese, a round of mashed figs with walnuts and a round of mashed apricots with almonds for a princely sum of nearly 20 Euros ($30Aus). Ron dragges me away before I spent our budget for the week. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would be sitting in my lounge room with a glass of wine eating a product that came out of sheeps udder but that is just what we did having purchased a bottle of red. It was delicious.