Body heat

Thanks to Christian Ecology Link's Jo Rathbone for this: A suburb of Barcelona – Santa Coloma de Gramanet – contains a cemetery holding the remains of 57,000 people. At a cost of 720,000 euros, the authorities have erected 462 solar panels on its multi-storey mausoleums, generating enough energy for 60 homes and saving about 62 tonnes of carbon emissions a year. Although the scheme was initially treated with derision, families who use the cemetery now support the idea and there are plans to erect more solar panels and triple the amount of electricity generated.

(No solar panels on La Sagrada Famila though, to the best of my knowledge: we didn't make it up onto the roof when we visited last October.)

Spain: Vigo

James and Penny Symington provided all too good a dinner for us in Porto, considering how early our train left the next morning: I acquired a stiff neck, trying to catch up on sleep on the way North, back towards Spain. Not one of our most comfortable trains.

We had a two-hour slot in Vigo, waiting for our East-bound train, but failed to make the best of it. (Vigo, Santander and Lyon were all failures on that score: they all had something to offer, but we were flummoxed by the lack of left luggage lockers and/or our failure to get to grips with the geography. In Lyon, we got as far as the Metro platform, but no trains came! It was Sunday morning. Memo for future trips: do pre-journey prep when you only have a relatively short time to look round somewhere.)

Quite often during our holiday we came across human statues. They are very much part of the scene in Barcelona's Las Ramblas for instance. Sometimes they are caught unawares: Julius Caesar winked at me in Brussels as he (or was it she?) puffed at a furtive cigarette. I thought I'd lined up Charlie Chaplin for a photograph whilst he was waiting to cross the road in Vigo; but - not having been paid - he turned away.

Barcelona: La Sagrada Família

We came away from our two days in Barcelona with so many contrasting impressions that it is hard to choose just one. Having had my rucksack (with cash, credit cards etc.) snatched from beside my seat in a bar, my first thought is of the number of needy people Barcelona must contain, living off unwary tourists the year round. What makes me feel stupid is that several friends had specifically warned me of the risk. But we moved on to Valencia in the same train as members of the Göteborgs Symfoniker, some of whom suffered a worse fate - being personally attacked on the beach after their Palau de la Musica concert the night before.

The good memories far outweigh the bad though: mass in Catalan in Sta María del Mar; drinking cava outside afterwards; discovering - rather against my will - the intimate delights of the Picasso Museum, such a contrast to the Louvre and Musée d'Orsay the day before; walking in Parc Guëll; exploring the Boqueria Market and Las Ramblas - all in sunny, warm October weather.

But the highspot for me was Gaudi's La Sagrada Família, not so much a place of worship as a crowded building site, with workmen smoking, listening to their iPods and chatting on mobile phones as we snailed round the perimeter of the interior. The exterior is another matter altogether: the South transept entrance adorned with quite conventional carvings depicting the Nativity, whilst the other side, the Façade of the Passion, is covered with the most striking Holy Week scenes, culminating in this extraordinary Christ Crucified, and Veronica's veil transformed into a death mask. An indelible impression!

Out of training

Four weeks ago today we were in Paris on the first leg of our InterRail holiday, from which we have just returned. Having embarked at Cheltenham Station, this - our first train - was late, our carriage door was stuck and the loo was blocked. I won't say every continental conveyance - we also had goes on metros, trams, buses and even a funicular - was perfect by contrast. They did all however run to time and were mostly more comfortable than our dear First Great Western.

We are still digesting it all (assisted by 900 photographs). Apart from our 36 trains, we clocked up six capital cities, 11 art galleries, 13 cathedrals, 17 World Heritage Sites - well yes, this does include a couple we saw from the train - and slept in 22 different beds. No opera and only one concert - but what a concert (Dudamel conducting the Göteborgs Symfoniker in Nielsen). Good food (and drink). Meetings with old and new friends, and much kindness of strangers. Hardly any rain, and really warm at times.

Low point: my bag was snatched in Barcelona, complete with credit cards and €100 - boring to say the least, and chastening in view of the specific warnings friends had given us.

More later perhaps, but must now get on with the thank you letters!