Montserrat

On Sunday, Cody, Beth, Brian and I took the train out of Barcelona to Montserrat. Montserrat refers to a mountain range that has jagged (or serrated, see "seurat") peaks. A monastery is nestled in there as well. Its name might be Montserrat as well. I am not sure, as I remained willfully ignorant about both the mountains and the monks.* It took about an hour and a half but once we were there, I felt like the long travel time was totally worth it. The view was beautiful, and after a week of visiting congested tourist spots, it felt great to be in a tourist spot where the tourists were more widely dispersed.

When we got there, the other three were starving so we stopped at the Montserrat cafeteria. I didn't feel particularly hungry, but that didn't stop me from getting a plate of grilled vegetables, croquettes (Spanish for deep fried cheese balls), and a large serving of a flan-like pudding. We took a funicular up to a trail (the St. Joan's funicular for those of you who might visit Montserrat), and hiked on its trails for about an hour and a half.





We arrived back in Barcelona with plenty of time to make our all aboard time. Unfortunately, the port bus that takes us back to the ship had slowed down its service, so we had to take a cab. When I've taken a cab back to the ship in Italy, I've felt like I was in a Loony Tunes episode, since the taxi is often on its side wheels for most of the ride, all in an effort to get you back to the ship on time. This driver took a more leisurely approach, and stretched a seven-minute drive to twelve, so we had to book it up the gangway. I was the last crew member checked in for the day, and still had forty-seven seconds to spare, so I felt pretty good about myself.

When we got back to the ship I saw Al, a guitarist who had encouraged us to visit Montserrat. I told him we had been there and had had a great time.

"Did you hear the boys choir?" he asked. "They sing at one on Sundays."

I told him we hadn't, and admitted that we hadn't even visited the monastery. Al took a deep breath, as if he had just been told that a loved one had died or that his son hated flamenco music.

"What, may I ask, did you do up there?" His face was getting a little red. I sometimes have a hard time taking Al seriously, because I think he looks a little like Eugene Levy doing a character. His Levy-similarities increase the more upset he gets. "That's like going to the Miss Universe Pageant and not looking at the girls! I mean, you seem like a nice kid, but come on!"

I told Al that I had liked Montserrat so much that I wanted to go back and assured him that I would visit the monastery when I did. That seemed to placate him a little, but he has eyed me suspiciously every time he has seen me since.

*After checking Wikipedia, I learned that Montserrat is host to the Benedictine Abbey, Santa Maria de Montserrat. I also learned that Montserrat is featured in the “Lionheart” video game.