The Road to Kona

I made the recommended stop at the Punaluu Bakery in Naalehu, famed for their Hawaiian Bread. I bought a couple of Malasadas (think dough bombs liberally coated with sugar) and coffee for breakfast. 

I should have listened to the counter girl when she told me they make all their baked goods with whole milk (“It’s what makes them soft”). Not a happy tummy down the road.

south coast parking solution

Determined to find one beach where I could access the water without shredding my sandals and feet (beaches here have a lava rock barrier of several feet out into the water), I turned down a few roads to the coast, only to find no parking at the smaller beaches.

Frustrated, I decided to go to church.

St. Benedict Roman Catholic Church in Honaounau is on the National Register of Historic Places. Known as “The Painted Church”, it was built between 1899 and 1904 by the Belgian Priest John Veighe. Since he spoke no Hawaiian, he built a miniature Gothic cathedral, painting the interior walls and ceiling himself as a teaching tool until he could learn the language to preach. 

The congregation, made up of families in economic transition, could relate to St. Benedict, a sort of “all-purpose” saint, patron to poison victims, agricultural workers, civil engineers, the dying, those afflicted with fever, those with gall stones, those with inflammatory diseases, those with kidney disease, members of religious orders, monks, schoolchildren, and spelunkers (cave explorers).

It's a pretty little church, easily explored in a few minutes. 

Joe's farm manager and tour guide

 

 

A little way down Painted Church Road is Joe’s Macadamia Farm, big macadamias at better-than-store prices and a free tour on request.

While your arteries harden at Punalu'u bakery, you can enjoy the gorgeous garden

I got a text that my stay in Kona was ready, so I made my way to the aptly named Surf Hideaway

Off to the Sun: The First Mission

Much as I love the historical aspect of visiting the missions, I have strong mixed feelings about the role of the Franciscan Fathers in California's past. It's no secret that indigenous people were mistreated by many in the Mission system, and San Diego de Aclala was no exception. Founded in 1769, it was  moved to the present site in 1774 for better access to water and farmland. By 1775 the Mission had so angered the locals that they attacked the grounds, burned the buildings to ash, and beat the presiding Padre to death (Padre Luis Jayme subsequently became the first Christian martyr in California - no surprise there)

In 1776, Junipero Serra (who took over the missions after serving the inquisition in Mexico by naming a few high-flying witches) took the site in hand, rebuilding it with a fortified wall to repel further attacks. He met with considerably more success, baptizing over a thousand converts by 1797, and expanding the site to include 20,000 sheep, 10,000 cattle and 1,250 horses.

image courtesy of Carol Squire

The Mission fell to ruin during the independence of Mexico from Spain and after the war between the U.S. and Mexico a few years later. Returned to its former glory in 1976, it was named a minor basilica (a church with certain privileges related to the Catholic canon), and remains to this day an active parish for the Catholic community. This little sweetie pie on the right was being baptized during our visit.

Image courtesy of Carol Squire

As was the habit of Spanish explorers, the bay of San Diego was named for the Catholic saint whose name day it was - Saint Didacus (Diego) of Acala - by Captain Sebastian Viscaino upon his arrival in 1602. Didacus, a Spanish Franciscan who became a healer during the 15th century,  was canonized (named a saint) in 1588.

The grounds of the Mission are pleasantly planted and the museum on the grounds is worthy of a stroll.

Big Church, Good Eats, Clowns (Yikes)

Partial ceiling, Sagrada Familia

Up early enough (I thought) to avoid the long lines at Sagrada Familia, the cathedral Gaudi considered his master work--I was so wrong. In this case, it pays to buy ahead online. The line to buy tickets took an hour and a half. I didn't have breakfast, so a pear brought from my daughter’s tree in California saved me, along with some almonds. Inside, the wait was worth it ... extraordinary, and very, very special. 

The detail! Plenty of religious references, especially for a lapsed Catholic like me, truly inspired soaring spaces, and plenty of the ornate detail for which Gaudi is known. 

As in medieval times, the cathedral is a work in progress and is not expected to be finished for many years. It was begun in 1882 under another architect, and taken over by Gaudi in 1883. After his death in 1926, his vision has been carried out by others. It’s built entirely from contributions (“made by the people and mirrored in them”, as Gaudi said), and is expected to be finished some time in the first third of the 21st century.

Later, I came back to the area of my hostel—the neighborhood known as Eixample (after one metro misdirection--wrong train) and met my friend Patti and her bro for the best tapas lunch ever,  at Catalana (236 Mallorca Street). The joint was packed, so we had a 15-minute wait, but so worth it. We ordered a bunch of tapas, and the favorite was a fried egg mixed into crispy potatoes and carrots (the veges were deep fried); it was spectacular.  

After a reluctant good-bye, I returned to the Casa Batllo and bought a ring I couldn’t get out of my mind, then took the metro to la Bouquerilla market in Cuitat Vella, the old Gothic quarter—I scored some bread right out of the oven and a little salty Serrano ham. That and some figs came in handy later when I picked up the car at 5:15. Still jet-lagged, I had the urge to eat at the most peculiar times.

I pulled over to hook up the GPS system I had bought for this trip and circled the area to find my hotel, then parked across the street to load my goods. I was not there more that 15 minutes, but I violated some law or other during my brief driving sojourn in Barcelona--I discovered a notice on my windscreen the next morning in Figueres. Whoops. The rental car company, Europcar (highly recommended, easy to deal with) kept my credit card number in case of any misdemeanors (with a...gulp...charge of 60 Euros for a ticket plus the cost of the ticket). I hope it was just a warning, but I couldn’t find someone who could tell me what the notice was about, other than I was required to report to the Bureau of Transportation in Barcelona. Not going to happen.

After an uneventful hour-and-a-half drive on Spain’s superb toll roads, I arrived in Figuères in the evening. The  GPS was accurate, and a real blessing navigating the unfamiliar roads. The voice I chose—a South African radio personality named Beauty—was amusing (“Toll road! Oh, why do things have to cost things!”). It took me a while to find Hotel Plaza Inn (14 Pujada del Castell), as it was in the middle of an old town with streets so narrow they looked more like alleys in the dark.

Clowns are not my favorite thing, and to be greeted by a life-size plaster one in the doorway was a little disconcerting--however, I recognize that the hotel wanted to distinguish itself in some way. The peculiar mismatched artwork everywhere—a Tahitian scene next to a Parisian flower shop painting--was obviously purchased from the Spanish equivalent of garage sales, but it was amusing rather than off-putting. The room was fine and somewhat noisy, facing the street --plenty of traffic, with an active construction site across the way. Parking, though free for the night, was a couple of blocks away. The most disconcerting thing, however, was when I stepped out onto my balcony: on the balcony to my left was a human-sized blow-up rabbit, and to my right, another plaster clown. And there I was, stuck in the middle. I hoped I didn’t fit in.

Antonio + Joanne, True Love

Mosaics on the patio of Gaudi's Casa Batllo

Barcelona airport, El Prat, was easy to navigate, and finding the the train into Passig de Gracia train/metro station in the middle of Barcelona was quick; not a lot of drama finding the hotel.  The nasty surprise when I got there was the ... and I'm being generous...spartan room at Somnio Hostel (251 Diputacio, 2nd floor).

The location was excellent, near public transportation, shopping and restaurants in a good part of Barcelona close to everything. The staff couldn't have been nicer or more helpful. However, I discovered very quickly that there are dozens of hotels in this area that cost just a little more money and offer a lot more.

At $108, this stay was WAY overpriced. This is basically a hostel, and I've stayed in other hostels that offered much more for less money.The room, about 12-foot square, consisted of a double bed and four white, featureless walls.  A couple of hangers on the door sufficed as a closet. The shower was so small an average-sized man couldn't turn around—and I paid for a room with a bathtub. A lot was lost in translation, and Booking.com got flamed for this one.

Casa Batllo at night

Since I arrived at 9AM, I immediately walked around and took in a few Antonio Gaudi properties—one of my main interests in Barcelona, along with my love for the book “The Shadow of the Wind” by Carlos Ruiz Zafon, which is set in the old city just south of my hostel. The wait to enter La Pedrera (known locally as “the quarry” for it’s blocky gray presence), an apartment house famed for it’s rooftop sculpture garden, was more than an hour, so I took a tour of Casa Batllo (BAT yo), once a private home for a weatlthy Barcelona family. The house burst with Gaudi's ornate natural themes of ocean life, dragons, curves. What an inspiration!

Gaudi was not formally trained as an architect, and built everything using plumb lines and models; his works will live forever because of their incredible whimsy mixed with practicality. Everything, down to the shape of the door handles, was carefully thought out and handcrafted. Genius! 

The multimedia presentation on the top floor was mind-blowing. There were no credits given, but what a beautiful tribute to an amazing design--the video is projected on top of a five-foot-tall model of the house. See it at Vimeo.

Roof of Casa Batllo

Gaudi's deep Catholic faith was evident in the crosses he placed here and there on the property, and the small family chapel off the main sitting room. 

That evening, I walked the length of beautifully lit Passig de Gracia, admiring the graceful buildings and ironwork. Barcelona is one beautiful city; even the sidewalks are beautiful.

Sitting room ceiling and light fixture

The servants quarters on the top floor were light and airy

The sidewalks of Barcelona; great to look at, hell on suitcase wheels