At the Basílica de la Sagrada Família Me heid sweeman a bit eftir twa tins At midday, I paid the five Euro sum, tackled the steps tae the triforium, strugglan wae the local vulgar Latin. Less like a northern kirk this couldna be: a daft dream o spires wraxan tae the sky, yellow sculpted seeds, cool angels forby; tae Earth Christ mibby cam - but no for me! But doon in Gaudi’s crypt a silence fell. I shuffled fae the buddom o the stair, me belly fill o gassy San Miguel, and lit a peedie candle. Holy Hell! Whitwey can Catholic kirks caa a runt prayer fae godless Presbyterians, like mesel?
brisknortherly 