15 Euros (Online booking price)Sagrada Família, Barcelona
Jutting out of the Spanish sky like a blind child’s attempt at a lego and popsicle stick tower covered in melted wax is the famed Sagrada Família. Located in Barcelona the Basílica i Temple Expiatori de la Sagrada Família Templo Expiatorio de la Sagrada Familia Basilica and Expiatory Church of the Holy Family is a masterpiece in biting off more than you can chew.
Still incomplete and with cranes stationed around, presumably for show as they never seemed to move, I researched into what it was all about before deciding to venture inside. From what I skim read, this project got started a long time ago and still hasn’t been finished due to all sorts of shit – I’m not Wikipedia, so that’s all you’ll get from me.
I asked one of the staff members outside the perimeter wall what to expect inside that how long I should block out of my day for this holy adventure and he insisted on at least an hour inside to absorb knowledge. I spent an hour inside wondering why the hell people would spend an hour in there, so I guess he was right.
With practically nothing to do or read in there, I wandered about and took pictures of people taking pictures. The main area was akin to being inside of a Minecraft beginners rendition of a hollowed out explosion. Sculptures, walls, pillars, were all made in sections and glued on top of the previous piece like some cheap and shitty prefabricated amusement park. I was not amused. Why had I paid money to see something that is possibly years from completion? It’s like ordering a burger and having the chef send out a plate.
Basking in the filtered glow of the admittedly impressive stained glass windows, I decided to search around on Instagram for Sagrada Família and quickly scrolled through hundreds of selfies with most of them thanking the perfect timing of the sun pouring through the glass for that perfect #nofilter look. I looked at the windows on all sides and on all of the walls, noticing the lovely sunset light seeping through at the gorgeously low angle…at midday…through every window…on every point of the compass. It’s not hard to realise that there are lights behind every piece of glass but judging by the hundreds of captions I skimmed through, maybe I’m wrong and the midday Spanish sun does actually split into several smaller orbs and hover just outside anything resembling a window, surrounding the building like the beginnings of a fiery SWAT raid.
After learning precisely nothing about the history of this place, I ambled about looking up at the wonderfully mental design ideas, all battling each other for your focus. Each nook and cranny was vying to get you to whip out your camera and snap a pic that is replicated a trillion times on Google Images; every wall seemed to be designed by someone during every stage of every drug, legal and illegal, ever but the lack of cohesion was charming in a ‘do a drawing with your crayons and I’ll pop it on the fridge’ kind of way. I’m sure somewhere there’s joke about siestas and not getting anything done here, but I love the idea of a siesta and thus will never joke about them.
All in all, it was an inspirational place. It inspired me to write a post about how uninspired I was by the whole ordeal.