Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Barcelona
Greger found some old air-miles which had to be used up by the end of the year - so off we went to Barcelona. He suggested a drive down to the Ebro Delta for the second day, so I resolved that while we were in the city I would concentrate on culture and ignore the birds.
It was difficult, however, to ignore the monk parakeets that buzzed us as we walked down the street.
No visit to Barcelona is complete without at least a look at La Sagrada Familia. This newer end with its cadaverous figures by Josep Subirachs is quite moving, even when you're not religious. And at the older, Gaudi end, I was simply gazing up along with dozens of other tourists at the crazy facade when a peregrine happened to alight on one of the phenomenally tall cranes that are still building the church - so naturally I had a good look at it. (Other websites have much better pics of the Sagrada peregrines than I could manage.)
We went next to the Arc de Triomf and the Parc de la Ciutadella. The Lonely Planet guide to Spain explains that the park is on the site of an old political prison. This became a symbol of everything the Catalans hated about Spanish rule and was eventually demolished.It was interesting stuff - but could I help it if a Sardinian warbler practically danced along a branch right above the path and distracted me?
Greger gave up and sat on a bench in the sun. Other birds in the park included chiffchaffs, grey wagtails, spotless starlings and black redstarts.We then wandered off and found a nice restaurant where we had a leisurely lunch and shared a bottle of red wine. But the day was spoilt on the train back to the hotel when Greger realised his mobile phone was missing. Either he'd left it somewhere (unlike him) or he'd been pickpocketed in the crush of the metro.
The following morning we travelled back into town to retrace our last steps - but to no avail. The Ebro Delta being now out of the question, we drove instead to Montserrat - the "serrated mountain" - about 50km north-west of Barcelona.
We took the rack train to the Benedictine abbey of Santa Maria de Montserrat - the photo is from the train window, looking back - and then the funicular railway to the base of the spires.
We set off along a broad track with a dozen crag martins wheeling above us. Climbing a flight of uneven steps, we negotiated a narrow path which led underneath an overhang and into an exciting cleft - but then the path seemed to come to an end at an impossibly steep section. Returning the same way, we heard and then saw a small flock of birds - one of which perched on the wall ahead. The sun was in the wrong place, but Greger managed a shot of our first Alpine accentor - with the polite co-operation of a jolly Spanish (or perhaps Catalan) family coming the other way.
We didn't bother with the funicular railway on the descent, but walked down to the abbey to catch the train back. The wind began to get up, reminding us that despite all the infrastructure, we were high on a fairly substantial mountain. A firecrest was seen briefly in low scrub at about 1,000 metres.
There are strange little dwelling places here and there, previously the abode of reclusive monks and now apparently abandoned - although this one looks tended. I like mountains, but this kind of retreat somehow doesn't appeal.
On the last day, I had a look round the hotel garden. We were out of the city in an industrial area, and the garden consisted of a strip of grass with some bushes and trees. Nevertheless on this morning it held robins, blackcaps, blackbirds, chiffchaffs, pied wagtails, a Sardinian warbler and a black redstart.
On the flight into Barcelona, I had looked down as we came in to land on a place to make a birder's heart beat faster. A couple of lagoons lay like jewels in parched and scrubby ground, while a river ran through it to the sea. With some hours to spare before the flight home, we looked on the map now and realised it was a nature reserve.
The Llobregat Delta is a small area hemmed in by industry, residential streets - and Barcelona airport! This lagoon held a large number of cormorants, several little grebes, a few grey herons and two mergansers.A zigzag boardwalk made the old house into a novel hide, giving views of reedy pools and marshes as well as over the beach and the sea.
There is also a ruined barracks, where a picturesque flight of steps was made even more interesting by a black redstart.
The weedy courtyard of the barracks and the land around was alive with small birds - but they were very wary and kept flying into tall reeds by the old walls. Meadow pipits, serins and stonechats were certainly present, and a Dartford warbler was seen.
It would have been great to linger all day and look for some of the more special birds, but our flight home called. Walking back along the river we saw several little egrets and heard numerous Cetti's warblers. Near the car park two serins were feeding on the ground. I'm afraid my attentions flushed them.
The flight home was half empty and so quite relaxing. Being a cheapskate, I suggested getting a bus instead of a taxi, and walking up to the village from the A4. As we approached the Marsh Lane bus stop, Greger looked at his watch and pointed out that the journey from Heathrow to Taplow had taken at least half the journey time from Spain to Heathrow!Setting off in the dark and just past the police headquarters, we found the road under the railway bridge flooded and had to take the footbridge across the station. Greger strode ahead very fast wheeling the suitcase while I brought up the rear with an old "freebie" trolley which made an incredible noise. I think he was trying to pretend he wasn't with me.
I had also caught a cold. But despite this and the loss of the mobile phone, it was a great weekend.
// posted by Christine @ 3:29 AM 
