Revolt Of The Nuns

Forget the incense and the hushed cathedrals for a second. If you want to find the real soul of Barcelona’s spiritual history, you don’t go to the Gothic Quarter; you put on some boots and sweat your way up into the Collserola hills. The Revolta de les Monges—the Revolt of the Nuns—isn’t a museum or a curated experience. It’s a clearing in the woods, a set of ruins, and a story that feels more like a punk rock manifesto than a religious footnote.

In 1946, while Spain was still reeling under the grey, suffocating thumb of the post-Civil War era, a group of nuns from the Order of the Immaculate Conception decided they’d had enough. They weren’t protesting the theology; they were protesting the comfort. They wanted a life of primitive austerity, a return to the dirt and the silence that the church hierarchy wasn't providing. So, they went rogue. They fled their convent and set up a makeshift camp right here, on the slopes of the Serra de Collserola. They lived in the elements, praying under the stars and thumbing their noses at the Bishop until the authorities finally dragged them back.

Getting here requires a bit of effort, which is exactly why the tourist buses don't bother. You take the Funicular de Vallvidrera up from the city, feeling the temperature drop as the urban heat gives way to the pine-scented air of the mountains. From the top station, it’s a trek along the PR-C 35 trail. The path is dusty, lined with Mediterranean scrub and the occasional mountain biker screaming past, but as you approach the site, things quiet down.

What’s left today are the skeletal remains of their stone shelters and a commemorative plaque that marks the spot of their defiance. It’s a humble place. There are no gift shops, no velvet ropes, and no one trying to sell you a miniature plastic nun. It’s just you, the wind, and the heavy silence of the woods. You sit on a stone, maybe crack open a liter of water, and look down.

This is one of the best hiking spots in Barcelona for a reason. The view from this particular ridge is staggering. You can see the entire grid of the Eixample, the towers of the Sagrada Família looking like sandcastles, and the Mediterranean shimmering on the horizon. From this height, the city looks manageable, almost peaceful. You start to understand why those women chose this over a stone cell in the city. They wanted the perspective that only comes from being high enough to see the world but far enough to ignore its noise.

Is it worth the hike? If you’re looking for a 'must-see' landmark to tick off a list, probably not. But if you want to stand in a place where people actually risked something for a belief—however strange that belief might seem now—then yeah, it’s essential. It’s a reminder that Barcelona has always been a city of rebels, even under the habits. It’s a place for the hikers, the history nerds, and anyone who needs to escape the claustrophobia of the Ramblas for an afternoon. Just bring decent shoes and don't expect a café at the end of the trail. The nuns didn't have one, and neither should you.