Monserrat, the have-to-see monastery

The monastery of Montserrat, set in dramatic mountain surroundings an hour's drive from Barcelona, takes the idea of pilgrimage to its logical conclusion by melting sightseeing tourism with the holy journey to a place of worship.

In most guidebooks Montserrat is listed as the one-day outing from Barcelona visitors should'nt miss. so early Monday morning we set out by metro and train for the visit.

Describing Montserrat as a 'monastery' is a little bit of a misnomer. Even though the cable car only ferries 35 people at a time from the railway station in the valley up five hundred metres into the mountain enclave where it's located, the complex is a hive of tour groups, school outings, and a throng of elderly Spanish there to pay respects and be blessed by the community's monks.

But at least, especially from down in the valley, the buildings have the look and visual appeal of a monastery, with dusty pink, artistically sparse structures that are camouflaged into the surrounding boulders and rocky ridges of the mountain. One doesn't have to read the guide books to realise that long, long ago there was a human being with a longing for solitude in majestic surroundings who was inspired to create a monastic community who could follow a path of spiritual contemplation and instruction that has lasted despite wars (the monastery was badly damaged during the Civil War) and natural disasters (the mountain often sees floods and rock falls).

Right after attending Mass in the monastery's richly adorned basilica (the world 'opulent' is not out of place) we start queuing to see the statuette of the black Mother and Child that sits high above the apse, reached by climbing a narrow staircase. Judging by the length of the queue it's clear that the icon is highly revered among Roman Catholics, especialy the local, older people. Be, who form the larger part of people in the queue. However right behind us is a young Asian girl, probably from the Catholic communities of the Phillipines or Taiwan, patiently waiting her turn. We stand in line for about half and hour before reaching the icon, housed in a small, splendidly decorated enclave. She reverently kisses the statuette's dark outstretched hand, before standing back, holding out her small digital camera and taking two seconds to aim and snap, flash thoughtfully switched off, before hurrying along with the queue.

A moment of revenance, a Kodak moment. Her pilgrimage moment.

Later, stting across from the monastery's 'shopping complex' I watch a priest in the long, black robe of the Jesuit monks leave the gift shop, a small plastic back and his camera in hand. He walks in the direction of cable car station, stopping to consult a layout map of the complex on the way before heading further. Religious tourism, or pilgrimage?

The gift shop as well as the monastery's well-stocked cafeteria and R80-a-ride funicular probably goes a long way to helping the monastery balance the books, in addition to income from CDs and tours by its internationally renowned boys choir.

We find the real Pilgrim's Moment two hundred metres above the busy monastery, high up in the peaks of the mountains that we reach after a five minute ride on the funicular. Outside the funicular station we step into quiet, chilly mountain air, where various footpaths winding along the perimeters of granite peaks take the pilgrim into the solitude of nature. Our only companions on the footpath we choose are two or three hikers, who are generally not talkative folks. We hear nothing more from them but a shy 'Hola' as they pass us.

Back at the monastery, where it's now just before dusk, the tourist buses have departed and there's only the last few tourist stragglers left making their way to the train station below. We promise ourselves that, should we visit Barcelona again, a stay at the monastery's hotel, and a day or two of hiking in the mountain would be the perfect pilgrimage in which to find the solitude space Monserrat has - at least before and after the tourists leave.