Barcelona, Spain

Barcelona has to be one of the most beautiful cities in Spain, and possibly in all of Europe. I have been having a wonderful time walking around this city, and seeing all sorts of marvelous things. As you have probably heard me say before, I don't much care for large cities. I prefer the mountains and valleys and forests. I have to make an exception for Barcelona though. It is one of the most dynamic places I have ever been.

Lets see --- where to start ---

Dragons are everywhere in the city. There is a legend here, going way back to the 1400s or so, that Saint Jordi killed a dragon around here and saved the queen. The English have a similar legend, but they call the man Saint George.

I took that picture of the dragon at a fountain in the park not far from where I stayed while in Barcelona. The park is just down the way from my apartment, just through the Arc d'Trimof (yes, they spell it a little funny here).

Not far from the Arc d'Trimof is the sea. Barcelona citizens really like the sea, and they have about 7 beaches. I didn't spend any time at the beaches, but I did enjoy walking around looking at the sailboats moored there. There are thousands of them, and they come from all over the Mediterranean and the European and African Atlantic.

Some think that Christopher Columbus was born in Barcelona all those years ago. Whether that is true or not, they do think a lot of him here. There is a statue of him, high up on a pedestal, near the Barcelona port. It celebrates his return voyage when he came back to see Ferdinand and Isabella.

And that monument to old Chris marks the beginning of one of the most famous tourist streets in Barcelona. I bought some souvenirs for my youngest grandsons there.

There is a tremendous amount of traffic in Barcelona, and for that reason many people like to ride scooters and motorcycles. Look. I found some.

I left my own motorcycle parked in a motorcycle parking area in front of my apartment building. It is right on the street corner, but it is locked up and I think it is perfectly safe. One thing I definitely wanted to do was go visit the 1998 Olympics site. Here is where the kept the eternal flame burning during the games.

The Olympic Games in Barcelona were held up on a huge hill overlooking the city. I walked around up there, and gradually worked my way down toward the bottom of the hill, passing these colorful pigeons along the way. I don't know who the people in this picture were. I wasn't really interested in them.

From the pigeon place, I had a great view over Barcelona. Can you see the Mediterranean Sea down there?

There is a fountain at the bottom of the hill. When I got down to it, it was getting close to dark. There were a lot of people there waiting for the fountain to start working.

The water started squirting up in the air just a little before dark.

And when it got good and dark, the lights came on and the music started, both Rock and Roll and Classical. The fountain put on a dancing display.

I had parked my fanny in a cafe chair which might have been a little too close to the fountain, because sometimes it looked like a colorful cloud, and then I would get a little wet -- not too much though.

I decided to move away a little to get more perspective on the whole affair. As I walked back up the hill, up toward the Museum of Modern Art, I discovered that the entire hill had fountains on it.

Have you heard all you want to hear of fountains? How about just one more picture, although I have dozens I could show you.

As I was walking around up at the top of the hill, I spotted one of the more modern buildings in Barcelona. It was all lit up. To me, it is a stupid looking thing, but who am I to judge. It was a long way off across the city, so I had a hard time holding my telephoto lens on it.

It was getting a little late for this old man. Time to go back to the apartment to get my beauty sleep. But first, gotta find the Metro station. I had not ridden the Barcelona Metro yet, but I had a map that said there was a stop somewhere down this street. It looks deserted here, but believe me -- there were lots of people out wandering about.

Once I got back "home" and had a quick shower, it was midnight. I fell right asleep, eager to go exploring the world of Barcelona's most famous architect, Gaudi. The first place I went the next day was the Sagrada Familia. It is the most famous building in Spain. What do you think of it?

Keep an open mind as you look at it, because they have been working on it for 100 yers and there are still 20 more to go before they are finished. I thought the sculptures outside were really interesting. The each tell a story from Jesus' life, but I could not remember where in the Bible it talks about an angel playing a big bassoon.

The church is surrounded by small parks on two sides, and buildings on the other two sides. It was really hard to get a good picture.

Personally, I thought the architecture was a little strange, at least to my taste. But inside, the place really comes alive with light from stained glass windows and graceful, tree-like columns.

I have a lot of pictures of the church and other Gaudi buildings, but I don't want to bore you with more of them. Besides, it is almost 1:00 a.m. and I plan to get up early tomorrow and ride Odysseus north to the villages where Salvador Dali, one of my favorite artists, lived.

So, yawn, more later.

Fatima, Portugal

It was very difficult getting out of Llisbon. For some reason the police had a lot of the streets I needed to use blocked off. I never knew why. Maybe they were getting ready for a parade. At any rate, I finally made my way out into the Portugal countryside. All over southern Portugal there are cork trees and I wanted to see them.

Cork is the dead outer bark of all trees, but the "Cork" we use for stoppers and bulletin boards comes from a special tree that grows mostly in Portugal. It is called the Cork Oak, and it happens to have a cork layer that is much thicker than that of any other tree in the world.

They strip the cork off a tree every nine years, revealing the reddish cork cambium underneath. Since cork is dead, it does not hurt the tree any more than you having your fingernails or hair cut hurts you.

My route eventually took me up the west coast of Portugal to a medieval city named Obidos. They dress up in costume and have a medieval fair each June, but I was several weeks to early to see it.

From that city it was only a hop and a skip up to Fatima. This was one of my main goals here in Portugal.

Back in 1917, three young children saw an angel. He taught them to pray, and he prepared them for a visit from Mary, the Mother of God.

They saw Mary on the 13th day of each month for several months. During these visits she revealed three secrets to the children. The first was a vision of Hell. The second was that there would be another war after the First World War and that it would be a greater war. The third secret was one that the Church refused to reveal to the world.

Word soon got out, and people started following the children hoping to see Mary themselves. Finally, Mary promised there would be a miracle on the 13th day of the final month (I think is was the month of October). That day there were 26,000 people there to see the miracle. It was a terrifically rainy day, but at the promised hour the sun broke through the clouds, turning colors and appearing to fall toward the Earth. Petals fell from the sky but never touched the ground. Many of the people there that day were skeptics, and some were journalists. They all saw the miracle, and the journalists reported it. Did it happen? I don't know. I look for scientific reasons for all miracles, but who am I to say it did not occur as reported.

Mary also told the children that the two youngest, a boy and a girl, would die soon. That indeed happened a year or so later. As to the third secret -- the church finally revealed it in the year 2000, almost a century later, and said that it had predicted the assassination attempt on Pope John Paul II which took place on 13 May at 17.17 (They use the 24 hour clock in Europe). Compare the dates with those of Mary's appearances to the children in Fatima (13th of each month in the year 2017). Coincidence? Hmmmm.

The children are buried in the Basilica at Fatima.

 
They lived in humble homes outside the city. Here is Lucy's home. She was the eldest.

And here is a well near her house where the angel appeared to the children on his second visit.

Now their hometown, a short distance from Fatima, is a sleepy little Portuguese village.

This is a bedroom inside Lucy's childhood home. I am not sure, but I think she shared this room with her much younger sister.

I spotted this sheep in the barn and wondered if Jesus slept in a manger like this one.

Thousands of faithful come to visit Fatima each year. Often they light candles in memory of departed loved ones. I lit a couple myself in memory of my father and mother.

I have enjoyed my stay at Fatima. I have been in a very Catholic hotel. There is a crucifix over my bed, and there is a Mass each day down in the hotel's prayer room, and there are religious icons on each floor. There are also many gift shops selling religious items all through the town. There is certainly a lot here for the faithful to see and do.

Tomorrow, I am going toward the north. I wonder what this fascinating country will hold for me up there.

Ron