When mommyPrimate and I were in Barcelona, we absolutely fell in love with the place. So in love with Barcelona that we got all up inside of Barcelona. We saw as much as we possibly could, and spent so much time on our feet that we were absolutely exhausted by the time we boarded our bus to Firenze. One day was particularly remarkable though, at least in my memory.
We started the day out by seeing Gaudi’s La Sagrada Familia and after lunch decided we should check out El Barrí Gotic. We walked for hours through the narrow streets of ancient Barcelona, exploring plaças and streets that have been there for a millennium. Towards the end of our walk through the gothic district, we stumbled into Plaça Just, where the church of Saints Just and Pastor sits in a quiet little square.
We went inside, as one does when there is a 14th century church nearby. We sat down. There are holy relics of Sts. Just and Pastor in this church, but we just weren’t there at the right time to seek them out. We didn’t explore much or take many pictures as it didn’t feel like the right thing to do, with their small choir practicing. If I remember right, the choir wasn’t more than four or six pieces, however their voices (in the most perfect four-part harmony I’ve ever heard) filled up the ancient space in a very powerful way. We sat and listened, listened and sat, until our stomachs started “singing” in a very ugly way.
At any rate, rather than write the millionth blog post about La Sagrada Familia or St. Peter’s Basilica today (these posts will get written) I wanted to focus in on the memory of sitting down, feeling my feet get a little rest, and my ears being tickled by the beautiful sound of a choir singing in a language I don’t understand. That was bliss.