The Charterhouse

Of Granada, that is, not of Parma! La Cartuja is the old monastery of the Carthusians, noiw a museum. Humberto strongly recommended it, and he wasn't wrong. 

This order was one of the first offshoots of Benedictinism, more than a thousand years ago. St. Bruno pioneered a way of life that was coenhobitic (monks in community), combined with rather strict eremitism. The monks lived in little apartments witht heir own garden, workroom and oratory. Their meals (including one alcoholic drink of the region – beer in the north, wine in the south)were passed through a little door from the corridor. There was also a small entrance-reception room, called an Ave Maria, where they could receive guests, with th permission of the aboot. Once a week they would come out for Sunday Mass and a communal dinner in the refectory. All of this depended on the commitment of lay brothers, who did all the work. And once a month or so, they would engage oin the ascetic practice of peregrination, which was a long walk with one other monk, assigfned by the abbot, during which conversation was permitted. This assured that all the monks would actually know one another. The most famous charterhouse is, no dou9bt, La Grande Chartreuse in the Alps, where the monks invented the green liqeur that has their name.

The charterhouse of Granada is an 18^th C. baroque extravaganza. Some details:

• The tibia of some local saint is displayed in a crystal reliquary in the high altar   (between the two columns of the baldachino to the lower left, at about 8:00)

• A gilded baldachino over a statue of Our Lady, where the high altar used to be before it was pulled away in accordance with Vatican II reforms.

Above is visible the 20-foot wall of old glass panes behind the baldachino At first I thought they were mirrors, but  they look into the Sancta Sanctorum, where stands an enormous Sacrament house

 – all ornate pink marble and gilt – rising above the tabernacle, which stands on a slender pillar, so that it appears to float in the middle of the display. Low in the wall on either side is a circular glass window, for adoration and vigils, I guess. the whole room is crowned with an indescribable cupola:
     
                                 

• ·         The sacristy is a wonder. About a dozen individual dressing tables, built into the wall, with marble tops and Florentine inlaid drawers beneath. 

• An altar at the end opposite the door to the sanctuary is fully vested, though I think it was never used for the Mass. The piscina is right next to it, and I think it was used for preparations and ablutions only. Maybe as an altar of repose on Good Friday. The wainscoting and altar  are covered with the most amazing, strawberry-and-chocolate-sundae marble. The effect is joyous.

• All the ceilings are gilded. sacristy ceiling above. 

• The claustra is a pleasant, simple colonnade, with a central garden and fountain. unlike Cistercian cloisters, these columns are of uniform design.

• ·         The little parvis in front has an interesting feature. The Spaniards like pavements of smooth pebbles, set in masonry in a kind of terrazzo.Lots of sidewalks like this. Usually they make some kind of patterned design. Here they have added polychrome accents, by sorting the stones according to color. The designs are representational – large depictions of figures in battle, maybe American Indians. The art is further set off by green moss, intentionally cultivated between the stones, where the design calls for framing or background. Quite ingenious.

This is my last stop in Granada. On to Barcelona via the Gibralfaro Tren-hotel. A couple of hours to kill at the unprepossessing station, so9 I found a little bar across the street. Typically friendly. Woorking-class clientele, in addition to tourists. I ordered a racion of pork and beans. The Andalusian version uses big, greenish beans and some of their ubiquitous Iberian ham.  With bread, it was heartyand a perfect supper..

The sleeper was quite comfortable. Very solicitous young steward. Good lighting for reading, and enough electrical outlets to charge everything. Sleep was light, due to the gentle rocking, but constant, and I awoke rested, at Barcelona Sants, where I was able to reserve an earlier train for Montpellier, eat some tapas, and buy a universal charger for my camera battery.

Sants has a special VIP lounge, to which I am entitled as a first class passenger. The only problem is that from here to the border, where I change to the TGV, there IS no first class. Still, I was able to talk my way in and use the facilities.

It’s December 22, so there is lots of traffic here – looks like a long line for the baggage control. Spain was the country that suffered a terrorist attack on a train, years ago. So, now there are airport-style luggage scanners (no personal ones, though) and big guys walking around in uniform with dogs. I am assured that they are looking for bombs, not drugs.