tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23916550649042953452023-11-16T18:24:58.915+00:00grousers snapshotsGrouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-32836561653415128212008-08-02T10:10:00.008+00:002008-08-03T12:00:51.106+00:00Ozymandias<span style="font-weight: bold;">Bulkeley Estate</span> <p class="MsoNormal" style="font-weight: bold; text-align: justify;">Baron Hill</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">We are on holiday on the island of Anglesey in Wales. Having walked in to Beaumaris<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>we stroll along the front. After checking out a boatyard at Gallows Point we decide to try and make it a round walk. On the map we can see a bridge that goes over the road past the cemetery with an un-metalled way marked on it.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>Climbing up the hill we find the bridge and an unfenced track that takes us to the bridge above. To the left the track goes off for a couple of clicks to the coast road and later the penny drops that at that far end is where some very ornate gates are. Our way is to the right. After about half a K down a good path through dense woodland we come to a second bridge over another public road. Just before it is a ruined stone house built into the hillside. The front is of dressed stone with a rough stone extension at the back. The roof is gone as are the interior timbers leaving its three story height open to the elements. Trees are encroaching on the walls, roots finding their way through the stonework.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYrVbacmSAxy9z5jVZgd5kQOuJGr2MTEEaDSK5avUsI__ru_WiaewzvLzyC8VWO5esuWd8_sblX1IS3MvVqCjnMQt7M5nERVWahnOxvGijAXeZc-JP9Xg9KjG1JJRZSK1HBSdGByBxx1Or/s1600-h/BaronHill2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229861743579226658" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYrVbacmSAxy9z5jVZgd5kQOuJGr2MTEEaDSK5avUsI__ru_WiaewzvLzyC8VWO5esuWd8_sblX1IS3MvVqCjnMQt7M5nERVWahnOxvGijAXeZc-JP9Xg9KjG1JJRZSK1HBSdGByBxx1Or/s400/BaronHill2.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">After a brief exploration of the gutted building we press on over the bridge and shortly afterwards notice a flight of wide shallow steps to our right. Some way down the steps, near their bottom and in the centre, a narrow entrance contains a steeper flight of stairs descending into darkness. We feel our way down cautiously and come to a T-junction. At either side are exits bathed in gloomy green light. We take one each and find ourselves on either side of a semi circle of stone columns. Beyond is an arrangement of low stone walls. Rhododendrons of huge size are everywhere creating an impassable jungle. We are looking at the remains of what was a formal garden and the stairs we descended lead from what was once a viewing point. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">We retrace our steps and continue along the track. After a short distance the way bends to the right, then left again and we are confronted by the remains of an enormous house, looming out of the dense woodland, Like the first building we came to, the roof is gone, together with all the interior timbers. In the centre there are traces of an older stone house but the majority of the building would seem to be Victorian. Here and there are traces of the house’s former glory, some flaking, moulded plasterwork, a beautifully jointed, but now partially collapsed, stone staircase and pieces of slate baluster.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">At the end of the south wing are Kitchens, servant’s quarters, the boiler house, stables, coach houses and a large greenhouse frame. At the front of the house above the main entrance is a big balcony, which once gave views across formal gardens, down over parkland to Beaumaris Castle and the strait beyond. Low walls and staircases remain poking out from the jungle of trees and shrubs that becomes impenetrable within a few metres of the house.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">In the green gloom and light drizzle the mood, although tinged with excitement at the enormity of the find, is one of melancholy decay. How the mighty are fallen.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSLCyyOB3mv984EBxs15UQHb5rnBjCvHBNsSuTBn5bkEEx-UnGtSf0s-DUqTQ5W1TyWFMfqjdU567eXXMZREsnMexGJt9RopD1-rp6ZYpycwQju2czBV4T9W3NIxXEsvQXd9kB1-4qwMC/s1600-h/BaronHill6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUSLCyyOB3mv984EBxs15UQHb5rnBjCvHBNsSuTBn5bkEEx-UnGtSf0s-DUqTQ5W1TyWFMfqjdU567eXXMZREsnMexGJt9RopD1-rp6ZYpycwQju2czBV4T9W3NIxXEsvQXd9kB1-4qwMC/s400/BaronHill6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230259847755129970" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">Later on a little digging around reveals that it was the Bulkeley family estate. Not far away on a hilltop that can be seen for miles is an obelisk, which is the Bulkeley Memorial and in Beaumaris Church is a heavily graffitied<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>alabaster tomb from about 1490 containing the remains of a William Bulkeley and his wife.<b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-size:78%;"></span></span></b> </p><hr style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="50%"><br /><div style="text-align: center;"></div><p style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I met a traveler from an antique land,</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">And on the pedestal these words appear:</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Nothing beside remains. Round the decay</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare</span></b><br /><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">The lone and level sands stretch far away.</span></b></span> </p><div style="text-align: center;"></div><p style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY</span></b></span> </p><div style="text-align: center;"></div><p style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">1792-1822</span></b></span></p><p style="text-align: center;font-family:arial;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><b><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span></b></span>Not quite sands here but you get the point.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO2bXLZIhhFusMKzvk6dN1E4w3-ceTD4vErOPDB6DL5mrYA1sifTqqPcZsKuQiti7jysFhkGNg_S3AHopCAa-tD2cDIgPK8QD1Nsm387VXzl_vwPDZvs9MexQVmp90ImxlRhxBZdofpwRG/s1600-h/BaronHill4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229861260680235234" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer; text-align: center;" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhO2bXLZIhhFusMKzvk6dN1E4w3-ceTD4vErOPDB6DL5mrYA1sifTqqPcZsKuQiti7jysFhkGNg_S3AHopCAa-tD2cDIgPK8QD1Nsm387VXzl_vwPDZvs9MexQVmp90ImxlRhxBZdofpwRG/s400/BaronHill4.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:0;"> </span></p>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-70591168615620786172008-03-02T12:01:00.003+00:002008-03-02T12:09:03.277+00:00Driving in India<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqte7yZuanLEM-SO5AwUS4_TYzLae-6BWM_RInDlBqvyZsrfAPVME9GwOxAL4fA1k7UFT94_uJMZ-W1F9vpKRLwkaLI_duNstyfAlFe3H1b0oby3FBzfjfkgyJUZyn_nGIFsKyGSEK9xfJ/s1600-h/TruckDemon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173113901956388818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqte7yZuanLEM-SO5AwUS4_TYzLae-6BWM_RInDlBqvyZsrfAPVME9GwOxAL4fA1k7UFT94_uJMZ-W1F9vpKRLwkaLI_duNstyfAlFe3H1b0oby3FBzfjfkgyJUZyn_nGIFsKyGSEK9xfJ/s400/TruckDemon.jpg" border="0" /></a>At first glance it is utter chaos, however after being driven around for a while a number of things become apparent: <p class="MsoBodyText" style="FONT-FAMILY: arial">Rear view mirrors are not used unless the driver’s attention is alerted by a horn blast. Overtaking may take place in any lane, including the verge. Going round roundabouts clockwise is optional. When turning right on to a busy street, if turning right again after a short while, it is acceptable to drive up the road on the wrong side rather than crossing the traffic. Traffic lights are for guidance purposes only. When turning right or onto a main road it is not necessary to wait for a break in traffic. Communication with other vehicles and pedestrians is by horn. For example a short beep means, “Hello, I’m behind you, please get out of the way so I can come past.” A longer beep means “Look I asked you once nicely, will you move over now.” A prolonged blast means “Are you fecking deaf or what, get out of my way you bastard.” The equation would seem to be that the better the driver, the less he will need to use his horn.</p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="FONT-FAMILY: arial">Traffic control is achieved by the occasional policeman with a whistle, random crash barriers across half the road, road works, potholes and unmarked sleeping policemen. These last are often placed just before junctions to give other traffic a fighting chance of joining the flow.</p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="FONT-FAMILY: arial">Random hazards are bullock carts, pedestrians, cows, goats, monkeys and the occasional elephant. </p><p class="MsoBodyText" style="FONT-FAMILY: arial">Having said all this there is a great disincentive to causing an accident. Should you kill or injure somebody you run a great risk of being attacked by an angry mob. While we were in Bangalore a careless bus driver ran into the back of a motorcycle, killing the rider, who landed on his head. The enraged populace burnt out three buses from the same bus company, although they did allow the passengers off first. Given that most motorcyclists ride without helmets, many have their wives sitting sidesaddle on the back, and sometimes a couple of small children on the petrol tank the possibilities of serious injury, when in collision with a bike, even at slow speeds, are pretty high.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Yet despite the fact that most buses, some trucks and cars look as though their bodywork has been shaped with a sledgehammer in many days of driving we only passed the aftermath of one serious accident, where a bus, probably heavily overloaded, had rolled down an embankment at the side of the road.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifAICuVIGxh0AYL3qCq0hht7RcoAl0wccsyEwtnV-GBtp-cOlYhEEEMwAW8rR-92ZePl0L5aIClWV3FbrZp417M0BFUoEaXr_YJY3RvJ0vGvCakbl6_AhE_v33rL_WwyloXxpRdXcNgElU/s1600-h/Autorickshaw.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173113536884168642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifAICuVIGxh0AYL3qCq0hht7RcoAl0wccsyEwtnV-GBtp-cOlYhEEEMwAW8rR-92ZePl0L5aIClWV3FbrZp417M0BFUoEaXr_YJY3RvJ0vGvCakbl6_AhE_v33rL_WwyloXxpRdXcNgElU/s400/Autorickshaw.jpg" border="0" /></a>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-71765870651668677102008-02-23T11:39:00.008+00:002008-02-23T12:00:57.688+00:00Itinerant Builders and Roadworkers in Bangalore, Southern India<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNa4MQjcI0_1LYleOwNgk8ssswKH0UZF4uLCD3bYiYBVNisvWsbxaNoe1qiT6enNLlk4k5VlS86BsDVQLVhRqinzCfp7uSaDJg94b_ksI6ng5gDqyAX0WUFRUhspAaj2pbGTbr1mo6-xf0/s1600-h/Roadworker"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170142217048770434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNa4MQjcI0_1LYleOwNgk8ssswKH0UZF4uLCD3bYiYBVNisvWsbxaNoe1qiT6enNLlk4k5VlS86BsDVQLVhRqinzCfp7uSaDJg94b_ksI6ng5gDqyAX0WUFRUhspAaj2pbGTbr1mo6-xf0/s400/Roadworker'sFamily.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQl70221RDa9X0zOxeKRv_KgC4rvGbTyglP3szzYgq41c9mVeRRkRdniwV1myaqUVceEkTWIsjvidG6LsuPzyJSwWVbY_Qzy60aFvQPD_OYz21dtiJ6hMXFDAYyjjwUh5x3Vw7uUA5hiI/s1600-h/RoadworkersFamily3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170141327990540146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQl70221RDa9X0zOxeKRv_KgC4rvGbTyglP3szzYgq41c9mVeRRkRdniwV1myaqUVceEkTWIsjvidG6LsuPzyJSwWVbY_Qzy60aFvQPD_OYz21dtiJ6hMXFDAYyjjwUh5x3Vw7uUA5hiI/s400/RoadworkersFamily3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Scattered here and there, in small and large groups, on bits of waste ground where building or road works are going on, are encampments of ragged tents and crude temporary structures. They often take the form of a bamboo framework constructed of a row of half circles linked by horizontal purlins. This is covered with odd bits of plastic sheeting, usually blue, and occasionally with dried palm leaves, to make a small low room directly on the bare earth. Each one of these is home to a family while the work lasts. When the road or building is finished the workers and their families must pack up and move on.<br /><br />We are visiting in the cool of winter when the daytime temperature reaches 29C. I cannot imagine how the people tolerate these abysmal living conditions without rising up in angry revolution, yet the families we pass are invariably cheerful. The parents wave and smile while the children, who should be in school but aren’t, rush up laughing, keen to be photographed.</div><div>“One photo, one photo Uncle.”</div><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilZbEW4nlPqoBgCj_JKKaa-fl651D3S2Essj8SM2owQExn06jbRIppXxOl17Uf4HFJFHPciNsAfM1lcNsxVxHHRi1xPnIOtzl0HMt0DQidWqa7aWE37ZKpn2Ersb-4Vxzi0_3Plxqb8W_x/s1600-h/RoadworkersFamily2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170140662270609250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilZbEW4nlPqoBgCj_JKKaa-fl651D3S2Essj8SM2owQExn06jbRIppXxOl17Uf4HFJFHPciNsAfM1lcNsxVxHHRi1xPnIOtzl0HMt0DQidWqa7aWE37ZKpn2Ersb-4Vxzi0_3Plxqb8W_x/s400/RoadworkersFamily2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimTQS2mn-Vlt1mWiINrL23ir6AJPe3I2CUa3v98MktyRN4VqYl0MWXKqix4nKvkGfmQhFUeCl2B647vjTMJNpJ2QYLEtlmIXTvwBBRkO3ZadySyA5Odf7tKFI6ntRDbqvTuwtEU2ZKZmHx/s1600-h/RoadworkersFamily.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170140155464468306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimTQS2mn-Vlt1mWiINrL23ir6AJPe3I2CUa3v98MktyRN4VqYl0MWXKqix4nKvkGfmQhFUeCl2B647vjTMJNpJ2QYLEtlmIXTvwBBRkO3ZadySyA5Odf7tKFI6ntRDbqvTuwtEU2ZKZmHx/s400/RoadworkersFamily.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVXz1Y0p5mNn8O08HBkClsUjRWE9xPhnQPK7dFHS5XAfAP73zf4EU8QtmOvzYRnkaamfdRcNVu2YypwjdXcxfs1f65-tmw3B6bpmAnPZzoRdMh3dSqajxXgHL0DUuLf6p2VwZYB3vWYusd/s1600-h/BuildersFamilies.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170139914946299714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVXz1Y0p5mNn8O08HBkClsUjRWE9xPhnQPK7dFHS5XAfAP73zf4EU8QtmOvzYRnkaamfdRcNVu2YypwjdXcxfs1f65-tmw3B6bpmAnPZzoRdMh3dSqajxXgHL0DUuLf6p2VwZYB3vWYusd/s400/BuildersFamilies.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div></div></div></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-12127677817588315202008-02-19T12:42:00.014+00:002008-02-19T13:12:25.585+00:00Mamallapuram<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhlTzGL9jSxdhhr6Z60AwcUlEqlP6KweBVzSLoMPLSXHiXKeXQywcmvl41rYkwuW62EyqMqSc-lPz2ykBU8U9AsB21pIn_NohyphenhyphenUBXHEVF9bSxknZkaTtRv2lZxa0Fvv_tC6wIOXxwgNRM/s1600-h/Arjuna"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168677169344366370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAhlTzGL9jSxdhhr6Z60AwcUlEqlP6KweBVzSLoMPLSXHiXKeXQywcmvl41rYkwuW62EyqMqSc-lPz2ykBU8U9AsB21pIn_NohyphenhyphenUBXHEVF9bSxknZkaTtRv2lZxa0Fvv_tC6wIOXxwgNRM/s400/Arjuna'sPenance1.jpg" border="0" /></a><em> Arjuna's Penance</em></div><div align="center"><br /></div><div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlCv8p7sidtjxvl6EFjN5yfT9xtewB82nQYWOYXpmoL54T5nryExI5cuwG-mhN4VZZ7YPNI1QPFfmTkGxqKn0LOxICsboiaYzMidOglSooBz0K54-11U-KP-wNEuteZZU5_6AYWZuvFahW/s1600-h/ShoreTemple1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168671998203741858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlCv8p7sidtjxvl6EFjN5yfT9xtewB82nQYWOYXpmoL54T5nryExI5cuwG-mhN4VZZ7YPNI1QPFfmTkGxqKn0LOxICsboiaYzMidOglSooBz0K54-11U-KP-wNEuteZZU5_6AYWZuvFahW/s400/ShoreTemple1.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">The Shore Temple</span> </div><div align="left"><br /></div><p class="MsoBodyText" align="left">I first visited this southern Indian coastal town twenty-three years ago. It was a quiet place made remarkable by the stunning shore and rock cut temples, huge relief carvings on the granite boulders, together with a school for sculpture and a town full of practising sculptors working in stone.<br /></p><p class="MsoBodyText" align="left">The intervening years have transformed it to a noisy, bustling, tourist hustling destination. It is now 5$ US for foreigners to visit the Five Rathas and the Shore Temples, which incidentally are no longer on the shore.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>A rocky promontory has been built separating them from the sea, under the auspices of UNESCO, ostensibly to protect the stone and foundations of the temples from salt-water erosion. They are indeed badly eroded, however as they were built 1300 years ago this is hardly surprising. The altered setting puts the temples some distance from the sea and has deprived the buildings of a considerable amount of drama, but made it easier to enclose them and thus charge for entrance. (Is this cynicism on my part? Treatments exist to seal and protect stone; surely this, together with rocks to break the force of the waves, would have been an aesthetically better solution.)</p><div align="center"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify" align="center">Having said this it is still a rewarding visit. The rock cut temples are extraordinary. The Five Rathas were created around 630 AD and are a set of monolithic, carved granite interpretations of the major wooden temple styles of the period. The mind boggles at the amount of work required to realise these buildings, especially in such hard and intractable stone. There are other rock cut and cave temples around the town together with relief carvings, including the magnificent ‘Arjuna’s Penance’ depicting the descent of the Ganges. The riverbed is represented by a cleft in the rock surrounded by people and animals, including some beautifully carved elephants. The Shore Temples are from a slightly later period, around 700 and are made from dressed blocks of granite.</p><div align="center"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Three of the Five Rathas</span> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify" align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizgmYCwvLzq9Y3bGjgxJcHaHJRT-GyzUBj1JmK0Vr4g2hUML8q2iVM5yidkVABFyJUDSGuAVrEtJqILlhi2HQeZeZQmyutPtbRQVjaUWvyFc6mT5ovn5sWiUhI29QSxTpVkelxgzmi_0vB/s1600-h/5Rathas6.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168673492852360914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizgmYCwvLzq9Y3bGjgxJcHaHJRT-GyzUBj1JmK0Vr4g2hUML8q2iVM5yidkVABFyJUDSGuAVrEtJqILlhi2HQeZeZQmyutPtbRQVjaUWvyFc6mT5ovn5sWiUhI29QSxTpVkelxgzmi_0vB/s400/5Rathas6.jpg" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikeHri73Hxim052Iw4KUMb1RY98JC_W3AbflN2sUg3R6LbuFBoY3IrEppChxC8aY74UzDO8xvvSdeKyz2LPx8VBcg1a5Zc7SZ5op8CoWN0DaJt1TSZ-wrY5dSM_25AfFm7SQQKha9EQ3Tx/s1600-h/5Rathas4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168673939528959730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikeHri73Hxim052Iw4KUMb1RY98JC_W3AbflN2sUg3R6LbuFBoY3IrEppChxC8aY74UzDO8xvvSdeKyz2LPx8VBcg1a5Zc7SZ5op8CoWN0DaJt1TSZ-wrY5dSM_25AfFm7SQQKha9EQ3Tx/s400/5Rathas4.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">Rock Cut Shiva Temple</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7C4j61WvNBSYPGZ-_BHBXfMkXnsgkT17OrPa-QG01wMY0JEk0Tfod3gcfgF-KoR2nxzUqX65P5Mj_DlVe2KRijpoAVRIC_qyLak7IRAN77koVjX7_S3qC1IS_jaYVscwkdQsAKyAihjz/s1600-h/RockCutSivaTemple.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168674729802942210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7C4j61WvNBSYPGZ-_BHBXfMkXnsgkT17OrPa-QG01wMY0JEk0Tfod3gcfgF-KoR2nxzUqX65P5Mj_DlVe2KRijpoAVRIC_qyLak7IRAN77koVjX7_S3qC1IS_jaYVscwkdQsAKyAihjz/s400/RockCutSivaTemple.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><div align="center"><br /></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify" align="center">Although large-scale tourist development has invaded the town with many hotels and shops flogging stuff from all over India, there are still plenty of sculptors at work there, some of them producing extremely fine work. The large-scale pieces are predominantly in granite, with smaller work in softer stone that allows fine detail. There is also bronze casting using the lost wax method and the school of sculpture continues to thrive.</p><div align="center"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZRPf4eKyeyNsfagYxiNdae7nzzgmdhHt8zWv_Y6Qos2Ic68W_sPbjaISp0fi7zLjB8MFDIaK4XZoa4vmK9DN-lqpPmCeEBtHaXcFGxmy2ZhW0GgiuiFBlTBJe51dk5FRmcYb4UOqXPRs/s1600-h/Stonecarvers1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168671525757339282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyZRPf4eKyeyNsfagYxiNdae7nzzgmdhHt8zWv_Y6Qos2Ic68W_sPbjaISp0fi7zLjB8MFDIaK4XZoa4vmK9DN-lqpPmCeEBtHaXcFGxmy2ZhW0GgiuiFBlTBJe51dk5FRmcYb4UOqXPRs/s400/Stonecarvers1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"></span>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-84849739450615206222008-02-17T19:06:00.009+00:002008-02-17T19:25:18.345+00:00Naga Puja<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAlPZZe-AjKAy5z4qafFNAKIdNBLdruVjGfoMZguz2wggMb78qYtWpPPGGTExSQRo7hTYHPNS5XEVZNaee0_DMH0VBf9IXNMTmhuPkC9zncFT9fRSvsM8M6XhLKALf-z7m5mGSpio2vhjL/s1600-h/NagaPuja7.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168031068824094322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAlPZZe-AjKAy5z4qafFNAKIdNBLdruVjGfoMZguz2wggMb78qYtWpPPGGTExSQRo7hTYHPNS5XEVZNaee0_DMH0VBf9IXNMTmhuPkC9zncFT9fRSvsM8M6XhLKALf-z7m5mGSpio2vhjL/s400/NagaPuja7.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEug6AENCu4cEAovH-VIwKg4rEQFAN_c0Z526uNRwxHVcXg9L9TErcO11eXvQthoeaxUCEzI__gBKTsdopkW1dk5W8CxszptKTlxlfgYmF2hycWJk3zqxg-l4SJb0rYb_ulI4Bl1jTXfg/s1600-h/NagaPuja2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168029733089265218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieEug6AENCu4cEAovH-VIwKg4rEQFAN_c0Z526uNRwxHVcXg9L9TErcO11eXvQthoeaxUCEzI__gBKTsdopkW1dk5W8CxszptKTlxlfgYmF2hycWJk3zqxg-l4SJb0rYb_ulI4Bl1jTXfg/s400/NagaPuja2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1r91GTAVefFLXYQU0TObSO5lw_gtFKgveexdsIq7MMrCOY6Tudk7yt-U7FbosfsqfpDGnxE5wIPObSpCoLdL7jV3mfKLW33ZDA-UqkF_HcooV4a9MSs2PPEKni6r7VBlAVNuBZqi6F_m/s1600-h/NagaPuja10.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168028951405217298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1r91GTAVefFLXYQU0TObSO5lw_gtFKgveexdsIq7MMrCOY6Tudk7yt-U7FbosfsqfpDGnxE5wIPObSpCoLdL7jV3mfKLW33ZDA-UqkF_HcooV4a9MSs2PPEKni6r7VBlAVNuBZqi6F_m/s400/NagaPuja10.jpg" border="0" /></a>Wandering along a back road in a Bangalore suburb we had passed an old termite mound that had been wound around with string, covered with the scattered remains of flower garlands and anointed with orange and red pigment. I assumed it was sacred for some reason, but thought no more about it until, on February 12<sup>th </sup>when passing that way again, we found the hillock, and another we had not previously noticed, to be a hive of activity. A crowd of women, watched by a man and a small boy were taking it in turns to make offerings to the old nests. They had garlanded them with fresh flowers, coloured powder and made offerings of rice, banana and coconut, stuffing some of the rice into holes, then carefully wound new string round the mounds, completing the effect with bunches of smoking joss sticks. <p class="MsoBodyText">At the second, and more popular, of the two hillocks we were made welcome and given bits of banana and sweet rice to eat. A teenage girl in the group spoke good English and explained that it was the day to make offerings to the snake. We noticed a neatly folded sari on top of the nest and enquired as to its purpose but she was unable to explain, just saying that it was something that had always been done.</p><p class="MsoBodyText">T. Richard Blurton, in his book on Hindu Art casts some light on to what we were witnessing. The Cobra (Naga) is a creature associated with the god Shiva. ‘In the linga form of the god snakes are often shown carved around the shaft or are seen swimming up the path of the yoni. The phallic imagery of such usage is clear.’ He goes on to explain that because of the snake’s links to fertility and due to the fact that they often take over old ant hills for their burrows, these are often made into Naga shrines, which are especially visited by women seeking the birth of male children. They will conduct special pujas there leaving food, milk, glass bangles and miniature cradles. Shiva and the Naga are very popular in this part of India and we had noticed many shrines featuring sculpted cobras, often intertwining. </p><p class="MsoBodyText">A possible explanation for the folded saris on the termite hill is that during the course of a normal puja, the god is often garlanded with flowers and dressed in fine material. It is not really feasible to do this with the mound so perhaps the garments placed on the top are a gesture in this direction.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwqp6irt36oHxGLqTpDzAUoqZhT0b_7p3F2gduQpKj1nUw9nqCby1SIMQTAGtzOuH7mVXWfgEwu7kPemp6Y1z-Ob9kU0I4g4pokss8WW3d_Im9JoQNGkPW8N6p1X_DQs9Fbmqup8r5fYVN/s1600-h/NandiTemple2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168028624987702786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwqp6irt36oHxGLqTpDzAUoqZhT0b_7p3F2gduQpKj1nUw9nqCby1SIMQTAGtzOuH7mVXWfgEwu7kPemp6Y1z-Ob9kU0I4g4pokss8WW3d_Im9JoQNGkPW8N6p1X_DQs9Fbmqup8r5fYVN/s400/NandiTemple2.jpg" border="0" /></a></p>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-11742077639142803352007-11-18T12:23:00.001+00:002007-11-18T12:47:20.582+00:00Devon Snapshots 2<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Otterton Round Walk</strong></span></div><div align="center"><strong><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></strong> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">This is a round walk of about 6 miles, depending on what point you chose to leave the Coast Path. The walk begins in the village of Otterton, on the west side of the bridge, following the river and heading south. Cross the river at the road bridge near the river's mouth, where there are good views across to Budleigh Salterton. The path curves left and rises to the cliff tops and the panorama of Lyme Bay and the English Channel. It is worth walking as far as the beach at Ladram Bay, through the rather ugly caravan park, as there are striking sea stacks there. The route then turns inland via small roads and back to Otterton.</span></div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgntHj-Fh3-c0dxun53na_4NPCHAVKmbgyuBNrUSzCm0y4qldCHyP8CbOSMSTLW04hkQG8QnbAlp23T_v11sSb5dMf1VNukTgYoM9LhJPi3zxqOhQIj0BAUup9L6Io2NUN5sR5grviSrGNq/s1600-h/Otter21.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134156140613682594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgntHj-Fh3-c0dxun53na_4NPCHAVKmbgyuBNrUSzCm0y4qldCHyP8CbOSMSTLW04hkQG8QnbAlp23T_v11sSb5dMf1VNukTgYoM9LhJPi3zxqOhQIj0BAUup9L6Io2NUN5sR5grviSrGNq/s400/Otter21.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:arial;">The Bridge at Otterton</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V8XDDYgzNqLwjnLzTF_5px5eYRxOHw_tufj5fnFQWPpCCsxrYzRU91S1xYM4dBU56XDvUs1ypuToohdfUEdAoDHj3sS5WzeceV3DHcfSJs3FdXpWD-0QT-mh9FA0mPPdvxx7iq4HeWW6/s1600-h/Otter9.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134155771246495122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7V8XDDYgzNqLwjnLzTF_5px5eYRxOHw_tufj5fnFQWPpCCsxrYzRU91S1xYM4dBU56XDvUs1ypuToohdfUEdAoDHj3sS5WzeceV3DHcfSJs3FdXpWD-0QT-mh9FA0mPPdvxx7iq4HeWW6/s400/Otter9.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:arial;">The Mouth of the River Otter</span></div><div align="center"><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3T2HFH6ojbdqWdhv-LCIEYoBcrxL0RY1M9C7_Cy49ZUiIKSLP93wOGt_kA6IhdL4S3L7CArfdy_wOlPo5mUlWUOiz4YGEoaM3DS8BxB6MvGqZH7uBtFisiTK9PttMB-LLvgGmUhdAvXCI/s1600-h/Otter11.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134155483483686274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3T2HFH6ojbdqWdhv-LCIEYoBcrxL0RY1M9C7_Cy49ZUiIKSLP93wOGt_kA6IhdL4S3L7CArfdy_wOlPo5mUlWUOiz4YGEoaM3DS8BxB6MvGqZH7uBtFisiTK9PttMB-LLvgGmUhdAvXCI/s400/Otter11.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:arial;">The Coast Path</span></div><div align="center"><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhHmwX9JaJLnOWw35OMDm1keydoxater67PHj8kwLQ8KVliAjqwCcYcphGRDEhFwnn1xtAUHMSyg6NVOsTr6UBUFxUDoSwKDVplyw8n0mYbbHSVurgFzMpNpeeafsb6l8bwFJs1PSzjfq/s1600-h/Ladram9.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134155152771204466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwhHmwX9JaJLnOWw35OMDm1keydoxater67PHj8kwLQ8KVliAjqwCcYcphGRDEhFwnn1xtAUHMSyg6NVOsTr6UBUFxUDoSwKDVplyw8n0mYbbHSVurgFzMpNpeeafsb6l8bwFJs1PSzjfq/s400/Ladram9.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:arial;">Ladram Beach</span> </div></div></div></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-48958348510478126472007-11-16T11:06:00.001+00:002007-11-17T10:56:40.033+00:00Devon Snapshots 1<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Branscombe to Beer</strong></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;">This short walk is one of the most beautiful on the South East Devon coast path.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;">It can be done as a circular walk and is best done by walking the undercliff coming from the Branscombe direction. Take the overcliff section when coming from Beer as the ascent is more gentle. The path on the Branscombe side is a steep flight of steps.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;">If you are starting from Branscombe, park in the beach carpark (£1) and take the coastpath, on the left, to Beer (2 miles). After about 1/3 of a mile the path forks. Take the right hand fork which goes through a caravan park and leads to the undercliff. The path re-joins the overcliff path after about 1 mile and then continues on down to Beer.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span> </div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeoWnL0kqDDh8_7zXE5dilFeVGgH_huONevykAbduZk4luMOF3epSQcE7rVIyNUZ9cAQ1fdL7OfYENmV5XNdyzpemCQel2a_r7ewdHjTzV63vjciEGZ5NklncClXMczRbvreWRpSypB8GN/s1600-h/Undercliff5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133394385214063970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeoWnL0kqDDh8_7zXE5dilFeVGgH_huONevykAbduZk4luMOF3epSQcE7rVIyNUZ9cAQ1fdL7OfYENmV5XNdyzpemCQel2a_r7ewdHjTzV63vjciEGZ5NklncClXMczRbvreWRpSypB8GN/s400/Undercliff5.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:arial;">The Undercliff</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HdMwE8bACSRL4d8qO15u36jDUOzeXjp8GC51aru9_5stBV5D3lNmwa89dmodIVjlnT6WoxfGPhfvwRAxDEO1ZAhDhT89B6sbbSl5yaBVx-RHE10mnHCHTaaaIAyspepgOu0CvrILl9wz/s1600-h/Undercliff8.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133394230595241298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HdMwE8bACSRL4d8qO15u36jDUOzeXjp8GC51aru9_5stBV5D3lNmwa89dmodIVjlnT6WoxfGPhfvwRAxDEO1ZAhDhT89B6sbbSl5yaBVx-RHE10mnHCHTaaaIAyspepgOu0CvrILl9wz/s400/Undercliff8.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRd6iUtqJNcOQrFDuRVwJBq2TZFF7iwIc24ILVH-ptInIQh5sgmLBNnNwksLg5Lm8T3OV2sHRJjxqkG-ZpHnOF5mbJi8jQO-RBUmF3RPsZ2baNELSNPcX9dURCAvz_iIrQRqGTm0EReIE/s1600-h/Undercliff9.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133393749558904130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcRd6iUtqJNcOQrFDuRVwJBq2TZFF7iwIc24ILVH-ptInIQh5sgmLBNnNwksLg5Lm8T3OV2sHRJjxqkG-ZpHnOF5mbJi8jQO-RBUmF3RPsZ2baNELSNPcX9dURCAvz_iIrQRqGTm0EReIE/s400/Undercliff9.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:arial;">View towards Branscombe with the 'Napoli' in the bay on the left</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /></div><div align="center"><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVChDfkAEpv3K1Um3PQAnbjKbM9O4K88jjgD3MTw5boq2QImuJrZcvhcC307mMYS-X_cAWy8x55umLqr9GAjxNGL7N7HcLH_JR0aVp4AQGHOXvbZ_yW82w6XOv92LTGSTSgzC6D05NktF/s1600-h/Beer2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5133393277112501554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRVChDfkAEpv3K1Um3PQAnbjKbM9O4K88jjgD3MTw5boq2QImuJrZcvhcC307mMYS-X_cAWy8x55umLqr9GAjxNGL7N7HcLH_JR0aVp4AQGHOXvbZ_yW82w6XOv92LTGSTSgzC6D05NktF/s400/Beer2.jpg" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-family:arial;">View towards Beer</span></div></div></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-61888850025357524382007-10-28T12:41:00.001+00:002007-10-28T12:45:50.748+00:00Barcelona Snapshots 4<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnrT88djkekawsSSgY16Pmh21RKsPi59xXBxTGN0FcSvCWEmAjQGTOvtcQiu_sIR32o7RWtXOnrgBXn5VKA5oVG9VDVMdk8GWcnQcIbx_vALLDC-VU5-qIialZA-L2WW03_BAXJMBnZev/s1600-h/Montjuic1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126367383437348866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVnrT88djkekawsSSgY16Pmh21RKsPi59xXBxTGN0FcSvCWEmAjQGTOvtcQiu_sIR32o7RWtXOnrgBXn5VKA5oVG9VDVMdk8GWcnQcIbx_vALLDC-VU5-qIialZA-L2WW03_BAXJMBnZev/s400/Montjuic1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxCS8BZ7vhwbANqsMTtjjR1OK6HU7k8FDf84cz1FIbri3SmEcfQ7NaOMMnopDO5u1Kfl1EwPArDqcQVYQh2Azx0-kVsLOtdX7rsNfvShs7wC3bBg6Q2UN4GcPGc4u1T2ukzmzNiBqzcsZ/s1600-h/Montjuic2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126367267473231858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYxCS8BZ7vhwbANqsMTtjjR1OK6HU7k8FDf84cz1FIbri3SmEcfQ7NaOMMnopDO5u1Kfl1EwPArDqcQVYQh2Azx0-kVsLOtdX7rsNfvShs7wC3bBg6Q2UN4GcPGc4u1T2ukzmzNiBqzcsZ/s400/Montjuic2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><strong>Montjuic and the Fundacion Joan Miro<br /></strong><br />We walk up the hill from the Port side of the city on a beautiful sunny morning. The land is a bit unkempt here and there are signs of people sleeping rough. In fact I almost fall over somebody. We have come up this side in order to walk through the Jardens de Mossen Costa I Llobera to look at a collection of cacti growing there. Unfortunately when we finally locate them they are closed, for no apparent reason, so we carry on up the hill to the Castell. This contains a military museum which we do not bother with, instead walking round the outside, where there is a collection of large guns and some great views of the port and the city.<br />We picnic in a shady spot, then walk down the other side of the hill in search of the Jardins de Mossen Jacint Verdaguer (another catchy name) and its collection of water plants. After some floundering around, (the amusement park, a major feature in our guide book, no longer exists) we find the entrance and the collection of water plants in a pattern of rectangular ponds cascading gently down the hillside. For some reason none of the lilies are in flower, nevertheless it’s a pleasant enough place to sit and relax for a while, soaking up the suns rays.<br />Leaving the garden we walk a short distance down the road to the Fundacion Joan Miro. We have visited before but are both Miro fans so it’s good to go again. This time Alexander Calder’s Mercury fountain is working. It is contained in a glass room, the rear wall of which is open to the gardens, so light floods in. The mercury is amazingly liquid, spurting up to hit a black metal paddle on the bottom end of a mobile.<br />Onwards and inwards to Miro’s work where a huge and vibrant tapestry, one of his later works confronts us. Then a roomful of his sculptures, the originals made from assembled found objects, which are then cast. This is a technique that his fellow artist Picasso also used with great delight.<br />So to his paintings, together with his collection of work by other artists. I stand and blow at an enormous Calder mobile but only succeed with a flutter of movement and a dizzy spell. The Miro paintings become progressively more abstract as his style evolves, though there are certain things that become standard symbols in his work. A curved banana shape with pointy ends is a bird for example. ‘J’ and I play a title guessing game with mixed results.<br />The photographs of Miro show a slightly pixie like face, I think, but he is always so conservatively dressed. I describe my feelings about his art to ‘J’ as whimsical. She thinks this word too lightweight but I am happy enough with it.<br />Out on the roof terrace is more, brightly coloured, cast sculpture. I take pics and we bask in the sunlight for a while before descending to the courtyard below for coffee and beer. Across from us is an aged and obese American woman with a very loud voice telling her friend her life story. We hear that Rudy, her husband left the world in the nineteen eighties. I suppress the thought that he might have been glad to go. An Englishwoman sitting at the table behind her lights a fag and suddenly all hell breaks loose.<br />“Oh no Ladies, I’m sorry Ladies, that’s smoke, I can’t take that, I’m sorry Ladies, I’ve gotta go.” And on and on she bellows in this vein. Unfortunately for us all she is so fat she is stuck in the chair and it is some time before she can extricate herself with the help of her long suffering friend, who is forced to abandon her coffee, as the affronted US citizen waddles off in a huff. Some national stereotypes just shouldn’t travel I muse as silence descends and I turn my gaze to a ‘well fit’ Japanese girl. Ah youth and beauty, sadly both well beyond me now. Still and all I’m a happily married man.We take our leave through a small outdoor sculpture park, down steep steps and into a Moorish garden, and so back to the city.<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPL6e7H4H2Romx6yoE0_KtKKrT5fXQimDiKuoq8TTZM8LlJyaAzlIyMAGPWiTyuRB5CtF5qYeah344kd78Ud3Hhs5uvxYaFQho8iim7NfX1oIKtCZKU8shG2uY5ngBAn6Fk28L2D5nbskK/s1600-h/Miro.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126367155804082146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPL6e7H4H2Romx6yoE0_KtKKrT5fXQimDiKuoq8TTZM8LlJyaAzlIyMAGPWiTyuRB5CtF5qYeah344kd78Ud3Hhs5uvxYaFQho8iim7NfX1oIKtCZKU8shG2uY5ngBAn6Fk28L2D5nbskK/s400/Miro.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_0Wz1P1fLh81Cd3JwJB9KkrVFJz5XAxQY1pvIahuNIePx3WsIP9Ml8QkeTdnYJIssB-g1JeS828UfqVv7JCHPwhJaqtFawc-HOlHyX4ZBlpI6iXi8C9jSTjyg9DVh3cVpvsq0m7pSYlg/s1600-h/Miro1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126367061314801618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf_0Wz1P1fLh81Cd3JwJB9KkrVFJz5XAxQY1pvIahuNIePx3WsIP9Ml8QkeTdnYJIssB-g1JeS828UfqVv7JCHPwhJaqtFawc-HOlHyX4ZBlpI6iXi8C9jSTjyg9DVh3cVpvsq0m7pSYlg/s400/Miro1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPdP4qbiXRrWG0IV5UFt_b0i4MHsRvKF-Kl5JI5_sVr08XuQD4Uvu69O0blBSJLth7nzrmaMuDziBzias5PbHq6pp6vQJphkqiWRPgujwGZGfmq7l4OYSSrGSB25hcd9shTZMFCcvY1H8A/s1600-h/Miro4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126366941055717314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPdP4qbiXRrWG0IV5UFt_b0i4MHsRvKF-Kl5JI5_sVr08XuQD4Uvu69O0blBSJLth7nzrmaMuDziBzias5PbHq6pp6vQJphkqiWRPgujwGZGfmq7l4OYSSrGSB25hcd9shTZMFCcvY1H8A/s400/Miro4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu50z37PQQlxHvzXjYT08iAL6l2oyOCZVWU4CLcm9tY_DsMmcvehdtBIcKTwq43uvmAaS1SFqJ189Cwjb7F7lya5lO6dKfoKN2uGAJrRKevRE01t04Oy4uJbtycQCZJWN35hRN3BaCpsx1/s1600-h/Miro9.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126366842271469490" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu50z37PQQlxHvzXjYT08iAL6l2oyOCZVWU4CLcm9tY_DsMmcvehdtBIcKTwq43uvmAaS1SFqJ189Cwjb7F7lya5lO6dKfoKN2uGAJrRKevRE01t04Oy4uJbtycQCZJWN35hRN3BaCpsx1/s400/Miro9.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div></div></div></div></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-53001149427122674042007-10-27T11:39:00.001+00:002007-10-27T11:48:11.116+00:00Barcelona Snapshots 3<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvZvIRRYmzYY6pVz5DxDolnDFXA5n-3mU105qzvkawHUWHisGJUpe5W-CxUlzbJAeRx0LwU1x5DdoJcuBvraI06Nza-kJYDRd9iDx-M9g74NYQgQfJIjhje744q546aLJfWow5ZMnMWU3/s1600-h/Montserrat1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125981115553582674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvZvIRRYmzYY6pVz5DxDolnDFXA5n-3mU105qzvkawHUWHisGJUpe5W-CxUlzbJAeRx0LwU1x5DdoJcuBvraI06Nza-kJYDRd9iDx-M9g74NYQgQfJIjhje744q546aLJfWow5ZMnMWU3/s400/Montserrat1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><strong>Montserrat</strong><br /><br />Having sussed things out the day before, getting our combination train tickets at Plaza d’Espanya is no problem and our rapid progress leaves us on the platform half an hour ahead of train. The platform gradually fills up and there is a trainfull waiting when it eventually arrives. However we get seats and it pulls out on time. The transport system here is excellent and good value too. The first twenty minutes of the journey are underground and the rest through fairly unremarkable countryside until we reach the mountains at Monserrat.<br /><br />We disembark at the first of the two stations as our ticket is for the cable car or Aeri as it is known. This turns out to be a mistake. The cable car consists of two yellow boxes, each big enough to take 35 people. As one goes up, the other comes down, suspended over the void with no supports between the station where we are and the monastery in the distance above. We are not quick enough off the mark to be the first batch into the car and find ourselves in a line in the waiting room. The minutes tick by as I read about the ride we are waiting to embark on. German engineers constructed it in 1935. Quite old then I think and in my experience the Spanish are not noted for scrupulous maintenance practises.<br />By now about twenty minutes has gone by and it becomes apparent that the cars have stuck. I take a look out of the window and see the descending tin box about a hundred feet above us, while the ascending one is a tiny yellow speck in the distance. As a sufferer from claustrophobia I am beginning to have serious doubts about this as a suitable method for getting up the mountain. (You can just see the speck of yellow that is the top cable car just below the building in the top right of the picture).<br />The minutes tick by and the next of the hourly trains from Barcelona is nearly due when the wheels whir into life and the cars finally dock. One man descends from the car at our end. There is a lot of discussion between him and the ticket office official and then the cars go back in motion, empty on a test run. We abandon the queue and take the train that arrives on to the next station where we transfer to the Cremolaria, a new, electric, rack railway train, spacious, comfortable, big windows and much more to my liking.<br />We arrive at the monastery station at one o’clock and race up the hill to the basilica just in time to catch the last five minutes of the choir, which sings for ten minutes every day at one o’clock. The place is packed and despite the no photography signs there is the constant flash of cameras waved in the air above the sea of heads,<br />After we wander back down to the main square and locate a path that we hope will lead us up the mountains. These are extraordinary, I had thought from the pictures that they are limestone pillars, but they are in fact conglomerate and look like they have been constructed from an enormous concrete mix with some very large stones in it. The path is almost a road really and winds up gently, contouring the hillside. After a couple of kilometres we finally come to a sign, which confirms that we are headed in the right direction. After an hour we reach the top end of the funicular railway, which brings people up to the hermitage of St. Joan. We have a choice of walks here. Ten minutes for the hermitage or an hour for St. Jeroni and the highest point of the mountain range. We choose the latter and set off. It’s a proper path now and very pleasant woodland walking. I assume we are making for a great bald lump of rock, on top of which I can just make out a rusting cross, but we contour round it and then, horror of horrors begin to descend. We traverse a ridge towards another collection of peaks. If it is an hour’s walk it’s a one-way time. At the other side of the ridge we pass a small path signed down to the monastery and then contour up and round the hillside eventually popping out at the small hermitage of St Jeroni. The path forks here and there are no signs. We try to the right and soon realise we are going the wrong way when, looking back we spot an observation platform high above us. Retracing our steps we climb a staircase that gets us to the top surprisingly quickly, nevertheless it has taken us about an hour and a quarter one way. There are a few people up there and a lovely young Canadian girl from Calgary joins us for the descent. This is a turn up for the books as I am a rather taciturn walker and ‘J’ likes a good natter. We take the small, signed path on the way down, which descends quite steeply down a gorge. Not a particularly nice way to go up because of that, but a good one to come down. We pop out in a building site at the back of the monastery about an hour after we left the top.<br />We go back to the basilica, which is virtually empty now, and taking a side door, visit the black Madonna. She is in a small room way above the high altar. The walls and ceiling are covered in gold mosaic and the Madonna herself is encased in a glass dome, apart from the orb she holds in her right hand. This pops through a hole in the glass so the pilgrims can rub it which we do.<br />After this we go down to the cafeteria before taking the Cremolaria back down the mountain. At the station the machine rejects our tickets, they are only good for the aeri. I can’t face that little tin box and buy fresh tickets for the rack railway down the hill. </div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcEhrV8_Eap7r7GOPMvXDa4G-Pc3nWQIElqPPrSmye-EqLP_7Qd50a7kjwd2qeKHLNblcPoowWFw_s7lASaRhwzQVur1fszYukBH6hGTVr0gn8SGXcP5VrtFM_7clG4zBnsvr-Dw6c1x0/s1600-h/Montserrat3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125980501373259330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWcEhrV8_Eap7r7GOPMvXDa4G-Pc3nWQIElqPPrSmye-EqLP_7Qd50a7kjwd2qeKHLNblcPoowWFw_s7lASaRhwzQVur1fszYukBH6hGTVr0gn8SGXcP5VrtFM_7clG4zBnsvr-Dw6c1x0/s400/Montserrat3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEClMf2kjp1qJykCv0KgS287RIMXdS6kWcjq7s2uIyYneygTzNfUKhZ85YuzhpAgul5e_4DHjaEmIZYpCpBwyjLkxRQPEDGPaOFkZtx9GQLK3X_IwfxJF1VYLiLAjAjum4CJ5TpjkulOj1/s1600-h/Montserrat11.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125980381114175026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEClMf2kjp1qJykCv0KgS287RIMXdS6kWcjq7s2uIyYneygTzNfUKhZ85YuzhpAgul5e_4DHjaEmIZYpCpBwyjLkxRQPEDGPaOFkZtx9GQLK3X_IwfxJF1VYLiLAjAjum4CJ5TpjkulOj1/s400/Montserrat11.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3T37Y3k2lHz66r2A3HyjvWniZdJgNEy2c5ITwO4bFVlc3Mke0d36h7UGKo6iGxE9OgvKHOUqPEH-RHbp9g6bQ2j_ber-rN1j4TuiOAtgQpQtv0IoEMr9SWiJYsNP5NApkXdRZ1KW7jhWB/s1600-h/Montserrat15.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125980243675221538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3T37Y3k2lHz66r2A3HyjvWniZdJgNEy2c5ITwO4bFVlc3Mke0d36h7UGKo6iGxE9OgvKHOUqPEH-RHbp9g6bQ2j_ber-rN1j4TuiOAtgQpQtv0IoEMr9SWiJYsNP5NApkXdRZ1KW7jhWB/s400/Montserrat15.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqGwdxH1qyDyJVofcE1TTZRNhvq_M66uW4Q5M15d3gNG4Oap_KaKgnS0yImuu-7a-iV3Wj63ZlybzDjqknJe0ifDC3VcLbpbXPNMP_kp1zKlUxn7aziMaaJqCz-fg9QPI2_FkzyhZGphc/s1600-h/Montserrat23.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125980119121169938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgqGwdxH1qyDyJVofcE1TTZRNhvq_M66uW4Q5M15d3gNG4Oap_KaKgnS0yImuu-7a-iV3Wj63ZlybzDjqknJe0ifDC3VcLbpbXPNMP_kp1zKlUxn7aziMaaJqCz-fg9QPI2_FkzyhZGphc/s400/Montserrat23.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy0HU8yB7DBJSoNWprBsug3F0XKhFZC5adxOIWvoFgFxxtl3uuMWjiEsWNimXQ_Qpj83W9k5nmHXGJRSjw6saGNXRw5zMh3IypR0mXn_VNVklGU95tgfEs6jsyixbD8A3v90mJYARKHdQz/s1600-h/Montserrat24.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125980007452020226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy0HU8yB7DBJSoNWprBsug3F0XKhFZC5adxOIWvoFgFxxtl3uuMWjiEsWNimXQ_Qpj83W9k5nmHXGJRSjw6saGNXRw5zMh3IypR0mXn_VNVklGU95tgfEs6jsyixbD8A3v90mJYARKHdQz/s400/Montserrat24.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-83273059689113271292007-10-27T11:24:00.000+00:002007-10-27T11:38:40.660+00:00Barcelona Snapshots 2<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicyZ2Iwtp8W6_UvuXW2iECOEnKmIIZA1Fwe1Pjr9arngWgOjIPRuUs1DLm09JOxnBWWvX3gnWGDw9qu7c2hV7bwMSGWMrrwxH4sTDBErtEItp3odfMdaZpfBrR0RuNfAUp8Nu_ZL926O-K/s1600-h/Macba17.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125979071149149682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicyZ2Iwtp8W6_UvuXW2iECOEnKmIIZA1Fwe1Pjr9arngWgOjIPRuUs1DLm09JOxnBWWvX3gnWGDw9qu7c2hV7bwMSGWMrrwxH4sTDBErtEItp3odfMdaZpfBrR0RuNfAUp8Nu_ZL926O-K/s400/Macba17.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>MACBA & MnAC</strong></span></div><br /><div align="justify"><span style="font-family:arial;"><strong></strong><br />It’s Wednesday, there is the smell of bad drains and the screech of green parakeets in the air so it must be Barcelona. We stand in the square outside the great white building that is MACBA, the Museu d’Art Contemporani de Barcelona, watching skateboarders jump the black stone steps.<br /><br />Yesterday we visited its sister museum, the Museu d’Art modern, which despite its name, has a collection of Catalan Art spanning the last thousand years. There is a collection of Romanesque Church Art from the 11th and 12th Centuries, including original murals, many from half domed ceilings. The technique for transferring them to display in the gallery is as remarkable as the images themselves. The paintings were removed by coating them with a soluble adhesive stronger than the grip of the paint to the wall. This was covered with a backing material so that the pictures could be peeled off and stuck to canvas specially prepared for them. The canvas had been cut, stitched and stretched over complex wooden frames so that the resulting shape exactly replicated the walls and ceilings the murals had been removed from. This is stunning and painstaking work that allows us to compare and understand the development of this branch of art in one space rather than travelling all over North East Spain.<br /><br />Upstairs is a collection of paintings from the baroque to the twentieth century, including works by Picasso and Miro. There are also some applied arts, including reconstructions, using the original panelling and furniture, of Art Nouveau rooms. The piece that made the most profound impression on me, in a selection of very fine works, was a cubist sculpture called ‘Ballerina’ by the artist Pablo Gargallo. It’s a superb example of sheet metal sculpture, beautifully constructed and wonderfully three dimensional despite being constructed in flat planes.<br />Halfway through the rooms we come out in to a huge open space under the main dome of the roof. Scattered in this large area are groups of extremely comfortable armchairs on which people are dozing. There is plenty of room so we copy them. ‘J’ thinks it an idea that every gallery and museum should copy. It allows you to recharge your visual batteries so to speak.<br /><br />Back in the here and now we are on the top floor of MACBA wandering through Be-Bomb, art from France and the US 1946 – 1956, Picasso the great innovator to Pollock the great dribbler. We watch film of the Bikini Island Atomic bomb. The fleet of boats anchored round it to test its destructive force look like toys floating in a very big bathtub. After the speed of the initial flash the rolling clouds seem to move in slow motion they are so vast. Beautiful and chilling.<br />On to the abstract expressionists. Much of this work leaves me cold, so many of the paintings look as though the artists played with their own poo when they were small and never really got beyond that experience. Nevertheless the exhibition is a fascinating journey through the art being made in the earliest years of my life. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">MnAC</span></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifWu_GQ8SiqkIEHO_q_T2lnLuwpUHGmDgiSWYn-Hg0zUFwGcRxGbwqlCkY6ehnaiFHODHbJuSR9s04-TCS-TdnQWGcIz5wMM1JIpCpr8IiZfVuHELy4SLbtPFE3PytH6u7P8NPG6NBWoIL/s1600-h/Mnac1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125977920097914338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifWu_GQ8SiqkIEHO_q_T2lnLuwpUHGmDgiSWYn-Hg0zUFwGcRxGbwqlCkY6ehnaiFHODHbJuSR9s04-TCS-TdnQWGcIz5wMM1JIpCpr8IiZfVuHELy4SLbtPFE3PytH6u7P8NPG6NBWoIL/s400/Mnac1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcnsjPbT6XgipUiBSrUMiCYVJ6v83cCq2zK56xFEIZKG5s9-E2dHJ7cfgUmP6Lth1aXmaZZUnYhX2MCTFeKQdRGjVzwtb7a0u3p9EvDHcfYRosS-Dpqo3VDY6bxrs-oXc88N8NsesHIRGW/s1600-h/Mnac4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125977782658960850" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcnsjPbT6XgipUiBSrUMiCYVJ6v83cCq2zK56xFEIZKG5s9-E2dHJ7cfgUmP6Lth1aXmaZZUnYhX2MCTFeKQdRGjVzwtb7a0u3p9EvDHcfYRosS-Dpqo3VDY6bxrs-oXc88N8NsesHIRGW/s400/Mnac4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125977628040138178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbjU6F7V10tpinWp08uYQMdsXTWlML5b29Mu7YJsPpRI0akPuxqyKdveLgu3Zy1mIN6TRAYGWH0te3tzSShphCrNga0l6rRrZUdQd3qKB4YNzHeKw0SZ1EsznmfG9KrjFY-1VHn0p0cPey/s400/Mnac3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">MACBA</span><br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbvBS9YVrt1ybpvfzV2im2ixJy0dpSa3xBTxuucQfSontsfojnGwBaUEiWHxJrVy3vsGe5HusHPsK_CGMKRag00oCZxTnfblw7ED41T2VGsSoGaWR40vLnRt1iy7Etub0DgC1tcuMamgH9/s1600-h/Macba13.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125977310212558258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbvBS9YVrt1ybpvfzV2im2ixJy0dpSa3xBTxuucQfSontsfojnGwBaUEiWHxJrVy3vsGe5HusHPsK_CGMKRag00oCZxTnfblw7ED41T2VGsSoGaWR40vLnRt1iy7Etub0DgC1tcuMamgH9/s400/Macba13.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125977121233997218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK7IvYyLkUFFaU0daqRjo3-5PTkDCnqvg8iLpvcaP-dTUIizuf5XZoijgcIumvY7Z2pPUUYpkFDwgn4K1yxs2iwTTfo28NwrFuaZRWSp6r7Bb3EVpmA6Hh0KuBvYETHw9a8JIcuXf2NR7G/s400/Macba3.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDMerzjmlnkzwgJpFOmepXEILkCP84-cfDglSHcNdK5vuU0q7CR_0HVnI3s9sgxI0447oh9bsqPaqjOeokeblTyHL4oSxYW52fE0oyW1pjJPUzz9_b6S3j6bS-YF_0P2YkVJdKZ-g8kX6/s1600-h/Macba10.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125976846356090258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDMerzjmlnkzwgJpFOmepXEILkCP84-cfDglSHcNdK5vuU0q7CR_0HVnI3s9sgxI0447oh9bsqPaqjOeokeblTyHL4oSxYW52fE0oyW1pjJPUzz9_b6S3j6bS-YF_0P2YkVJdKZ-g8kX6/s400/Macba10.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div></div></div></div></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-17567113026813103292007-10-25T11:45:00.001+00:002007-10-25T11:50:04.295+00:00Barcelona snapshots 1<span style="font-family:arial;"><strong>Sagrada Familia</strong><br /><br />We wander the streets past a couple of Gaudi buildings, weaving our way to the Sagrada Familia. Since we were last here about six years ago Gaudi seems to have got the top spot in the popularity stakes. There are queues outside the Casa Batllo, Casa Mila and when we visited Parc Guell a few days previously it had been bulging at the seams in the lower part by the main gate.<br />When we reach the temple it’s busy too, but I’m impressed by the changes since our last visit. A whole wing seems to have been added. There is new sculpture, glazing and stained glass. Work appears to have started on the roof and the only major outstanding external addition would seem to be the final and largest central spire.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLlEUREm1B5PYFfkeUwHBH4Obg-15FsQ52USs-DEEP5wBBl_nq5-k-wnPPpSefOA2l4vQD1JDrJ8un9eo0Q_Qd8-TymW37i48qZjYtWppfhKBL_zj7gxByg38KV7kM9k2bMOlezvBu9MT/s1600-h/Sagrada7.jpg"><span style="font-family:arial;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125239812788227458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdLlEUREm1B5PYFfkeUwHBH4Obg-15FsQ52USs-DEEP5wBBl_nq5-k-wnPPpSefOA2l4vQD1JDrJ8un9eo0Q_Qd8-TymW37i48qZjYtWppfhKBL_zj7gxByg38KV7kM9k2bMOlezvBu9MT/s400/Sagrada7.jpg" border="0" /></span></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU552w1SBRAzGwh5mrU89NTHYk84Y9ETGu9YN_2TbRt2Z4gMIV-O-amjntEJVJNJcjMPIFmxadIzoAhWsm4jKW0EYLWFUCYssD3UD9V2Wx-GjdtvH-T2CdeotC13H91QOCNfrPx_BZNn9l/s1600-h/Sagrada3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125239619514699122" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU552w1SBRAzGwh5mrU89NTHYk84Y9ETGu9YN_2TbRt2Z4gMIV-O-amjntEJVJNJcjMPIFmxadIzoAhWsm4jKW0EYLWFUCYssD3UD9V2Wx-GjdtvH-T2CdeotC13H91QOCNfrPx_BZNn9l/s400/Sagrada3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0P2_yX2iDYKxFUUgdo7jNy_kUEn8WG5CFBxZUjTpNLLRzHn5TVoRJhibjueGNes7HSp7bscuWoV8JzY6tlN18diFibrKKN8sAWScHaBtKrovKg3J0_gj9Hx-Hz_rJq_8elIAZ2faAYwt/s1600-h/Sagrada2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125239366111628642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ0P2_yX2iDYKxFUUgdo7jNy_kUEn8WG5CFBxZUjTpNLLRzHn5TVoRJhibjueGNes7HSp7bscuWoV8JzY6tlN18diFibrKKN8sAWScHaBtKrovKg3J0_gj9Hx-Hz_rJq_8elIAZ2faAYwt/s400/Sagrada2.jpg" border="0" /></a></div></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-80616228671529084292007-10-09T11:38:00.001+00:002007-10-09T11:40:13.913+00:00Spanish Utopian<strong>Thomas More’s Magician by Toby Green.<br /><br /></strong>This strange book is a mixture of carefully researched biography and allegorical fiction. It tells the story of Vasco de Quiroga, a Spaniard sent to Mexico in 1532, eleven years after Cortez’s brutal conquest. He was a member of the second ‘Audencia’ who, as I understand it, were there in a Catholic, Judicial and Governmental role. Quiroga was appalled by the behaviour of his fellow Spaniards and the way they treated the indigenous people, the Indians, as virtual slaves, setting them to work on their estates or down mines in dreadful conditions. Heavily influenced by Thomas More’s recently published book on Utopia, Quiroga used all his money to set up Hospitals combined with farming communities where the Indians could come to find refuge and God. They were required to work either six hours a day or three days a week on the farms, or producing clothing, handicrafts, musical instruments and the like. In exchange for this they received food, clothing and shelter. The Indians adapted readily to this kind of life as it was not dissimilar to their past ways, only the god had changed. Needless to say Quiroga had to fight many battles with his fellow Spaniards who were extremely resentful at the loss of their slave labour to Vasco. A measure of his success, however is that the communities survived for another 300 years after his death.<br /><br />Interspersed with this biography chapters cut to the here and now and a fantasy version of the authors struggles with the research, the need for a Utopian vision today and how and what that might be. Drawing on his experiences whilst travelling in Spain and the Mexico of today when researching the book and examining them from a green perspective he comes up with some rather sobering concepts. Two quotes from the book will suffice to give the flavour.<br />“Why must God be like a person, while the sacred essence of life is all encompassing? Sublimating humanity at the expense of its fellow species could cost us the Earth.” Quoted from the Purepecha Indians, the predominant peoples at Quiroga’s second and most successful community at Santa Fe de la Laguna.<br />“…..this attitude to the environment was that it was not an end in itself but a means to an end: Wealth. And in seeing the environment as entirely utilitarian rather than sacred, the Europeans were implementing categories of thought that were fundamentally incompatible with ecology.” The author Toby Green tracing a mindset towards the world, from its roots in Platonic thought to the problems of the present day.Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-20273359469090418012007-09-30T17:04:00.001+00:002007-09-30T17:26:55.922+00:00Great Axarquian Walks 1<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">These pictures are from a beautiful and dramatic walk into the Almanchares valley on the flanks of Maroma. The walk starts just above Canillas de Aceituno. It is an easy round trip of less than 10 clicks and gets ten out of ten in my book for the dramatic mountain views, the great but safe exposure on some sections of the trail and the promise of a dip in the pools at the end of the path, if it's a hot day. As the path is following the course of an irrigation channel it is mostly pretty level walking and there is a good chance of spotting Ibex on the hillside.</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnd_nec00NnVLUqBlM5phajU8sNu1KgVm32G0kyluitx3t_KNibvPUtcySRvbuef8r16WooXHmSIXMzF3GhLdRUu5dTDwKfXcJMwJJ1dZh_SnBUde_9D6xkFT1WiW98ZRyFdigocngLd9U/s1600-h/Almanchares9e.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116045129116094914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnd_nec00NnVLUqBlM5phajU8sNu1KgVm32G0kyluitx3t_KNibvPUtcySRvbuef8r16WooXHmSIXMzF3GhLdRUu5dTDwKfXcJMwJJ1dZh_SnBUde_9D6xkFT1WiW98ZRyFdigocngLd9U/s400/Almanchares9e.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtKmMbsH7260O55MP44ETiuJubROZJZOb3V-6cY70k7LkdzADrupxLbAZDqxhGXvx5lMFjQIQImU7RFBfTArSxwR0LILEB33Ll0XHMLfXpjk_CrKywHjK2gw6HgD2YzECp0V8JbmkRaJLT/s1600-h/Almanchares13e.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116044991677141426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtKmMbsH7260O55MP44ETiuJubROZJZOb3V-6cY70k7LkdzADrupxLbAZDqxhGXvx5lMFjQIQImU7RFBfTArSxwR0LILEB33Ll0XHMLfXpjk_CrKywHjK2gw6HgD2YzECp0V8JbmkRaJLT/s400/Almanchares13e.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9pZRAc8InzbSf-xFmC0cHVSB8wV0kCGxJrl4EdGgov1ZaOMoSw1_KNVZzuNGH503T3lD62iGuiTLHRga3yAsdrGGobif2rOylZ1ONRtTUc_TeJrpR5fnHKGYpf0sV02rQNNr8Q3rfnsp/s1600-h/Almanchares14e.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116044867123089826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv9pZRAc8InzbSf-xFmC0cHVSB8wV0kCGxJrl4EdGgov1ZaOMoSw1_KNVZzuNGH503T3lD62iGuiTLHRga3yAsdrGGobif2rOylZ1ONRtTUc_TeJrpR5fnHKGYpf0sV02rQNNr8Q3rfnsp/s400/Almanchares14e.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIGRchUJGKbS_cbY1WT_ZV64mSBOnW3HfnkOqnbmfRaaIi8dtFDVsz62FU1lixPfysm-ALB85JV_K-YlQi9bReaiEh5gPlI-RwAKxMph9bJNqT0k2db1-HYwhAa7sHZl1HX0aT5be9EwB/s1600-h/Almanchares18e.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116044733979103634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEIGRchUJGKbS_cbY1WT_ZV64mSBOnW3HfnkOqnbmfRaaIi8dtFDVsz62FU1lixPfysm-ALB85JV_K-YlQi9bReaiEh5gPlI-RwAKxMph9bJNqT0k2db1-HYwhAa7sHZl1HX0aT5be9EwB/s400/Almanchares18e.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuGza1yMuvxR7nmfA9_bm9w3SQxt6x5gQzlgKSXekiWWkBMtcPMWBnuz3FW3F2OENXLN7etaXNhYQJGfIncS1vHEt0T6-_B-7uStN1axWcO8SiImF8YUh8pttShVJpR7zh5KWM9qRTS1VZ/s1600-h/Almanchares23e.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116044600835117442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuGza1yMuvxR7nmfA9_bm9w3SQxt6x5gQzlgKSXekiWWkBMtcPMWBnuz3FW3F2OENXLN7etaXNhYQJGfIncS1vHEt0T6-_B-7uStN1axWcO8SiImF8YUh8pttShVJpR7zh5KWM9qRTS1VZ/s400/Almanchares23e.jpg" border="0" /></a> </div></div></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-89369123164805280702007-09-25T10:16:00.000+00:002007-09-25T10:27:10.631+00:00Welsh Snapshots 2<div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">Caswell Bay on the Gower</span></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5dAeg848xtyVFzwW9zRbHkhfDIb1sh9OhLcp37wHcakUMQ_QX-T0ouQPu3PV_JzGuPum_hPLjwZaqovwRl_QVHENb7BoDd0clECmwlHQ5kyoyOEhjM3NJbU5T1g186jXZHaiwar-ipfEu/s1600-h/Caswell19.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114084979056644466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5dAeg848xtyVFzwW9zRbHkhfDIb1sh9OhLcp37wHcakUMQ_QX-T0ouQPu3PV_JzGuPum_hPLjwZaqovwRl_QVHENb7BoDd0clECmwlHQ5kyoyOEhjM3NJbU5T1g186jXZHaiwar-ipfEu/s400/Caswell19.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyHvKLKLjDLEm4MeZTqWKCqLV8X4PgDF1jEFY48e0I3_XB023evAVsQvNZ7_Mw1Ra1DErTJj2y9cf8NbWPLWBEiSJy4bgRmQYheejmZU9XnlAmlZUteAq6YuoQ6QSYFoC9_emeWNGBVrkV/s1600-h/Caswell20.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114084858797560162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyHvKLKLjDLEm4MeZTqWKCqLV8X4PgDF1jEFY48e0I3_XB023evAVsQvNZ7_Mw1Ra1DErTJj2y9cf8NbWPLWBEiSJy4bgRmQYheejmZU9XnlAmlZUteAq6YuoQ6QSYFoC9_emeWNGBVrkV/s400/Caswell20.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvIApwU2WXsHQOWLds0A6KVOp_rY1qeGYK5Y47Yri0y-aFduRdhmcEKJEWpKmWOmNtDirB46qaitVXGvdkbHYCT9bE_qzrx_9enfNnH4th8qUzNYVG4bPN9SQrA88FZE9mFOEyzkGZGhi/s1600-h/Caswell45.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114084747128410450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkvIApwU2WXsHQOWLds0A6KVOp_rY1qeGYK5Y47Yri0y-aFduRdhmcEKJEWpKmWOmNtDirB46qaitVXGvdkbHYCT9bE_qzrx_9enfNnH4th8qUzNYVG4bPN9SQrA88FZE9mFOEyzkGZGhi/s400/Caswell45.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSdWx91OElv5Whq8i-QbmK4yQVPB6oOerNouQhLVToAZzpGURRahzxHCVqtBPApjmCkBeKumAeIQHvJIoYj_-9WbsjKzUAyDMDRWiyiMJhoIMZ_LpQG09U6weT0_piloYAhwo1RQ8RDzf/s1600-h/Caswell60.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114084652639129922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrSdWx91OElv5Whq8i-QbmK4yQVPB6oOerNouQhLVToAZzpGURRahzxHCVqtBPApjmCkBeKumAeIQHvJIoYj_-9WbsjKzUAyDMDRWiyiMJhoIMZ_LpQG09U6weT0_piloYAhwo1RQ8RDzf/s400/Caswell60.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFxIbq_Y1V1M0KSca_g6ZYARO-_fv-7okvpYXkwYc9A3OD4NRcFUE_g6TWundR6pxSgqvqyzfXYgZSkbmqZau7JWbgs1e0CbpA0Zox5y3eNwmtjVtQfj2-crbSPL8DMzMI_ISwDx2r6I3/s1600-h/Caswwell49.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114084549559914802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaFxIbq_Y1V1M0KSca_g6ZYARO-_fv-7okvpYXkwYc9A3OD4NRcFUE_g6TWundR6pxSgqvqyzfXYgZSkbmqZau7JWbgs1e0CbpA0Zox5y3eNwmtjVtQfj2-crbSPL8DMzMI_ISwDx2r6I3/s400/Caswwell49.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-family:arial;">The Coast Path</span><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4PfOKKbBXErX2ro6mQvNF4Ia-vEthkmDtjWkQz7ztAnG5Ua83qLHCacG_ReEdxOdYJ3fquKiTaNb85vs4hdTB57l60v7uZ2HTZfJXQ8xNrXLVMUfmm9TqHNd_TdZcHGZqkdSm5ECsuIuK/s1600-h/Coastflowers1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114084351991419170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4PfOKKbBXErX2ro6mQvNF4Ia-vEthkmDtjWkQz7ztAnG5Ua83qLHCacG_ReEdxOdYJ3fquKiTaNb85vs4hdTB57l60v7uZ2HTZfJXQ8xNrXLVMUfmm9TqHNd_TdZcHGZqkdSm5ECsuIuK/s400/Coastflowers1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFGScjyyc6EBPaTwpmQqpYZerxFzryyA8DRPC-fl7hE_IuIiTcqRxnA20ShLjY47JK0CfBunvHvbDTOjF9xT28WT540NXMi5elQ_dvRNEPPz4XmRfgskGGrIIZ7W3MwDxdlwgs67MZhnF/s1600-h/Coastpath36.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114084223142400274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhFGScjyyc6EBPaTwpmQqpYZerxFzryyA8DRPC-fl7hE_IuIiTcqRxnA20ShLjY47JK0CfBunvHvbDTOjF9xT28WT540NXMi5elQ_dvRNEPPz4XmRfgskGGrIIZ7W3MwDxdlwgs67MZhnF/s400/Coastpath36.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDamAIviTGp4Udm0ftesc46CHzKQDeCSzzTlPuXzFj28BNRvP8oy6zOE9Q1TBqNYC2L26sQ165r5ji6fxJhAfa6nD8dchzD0_roCIi5RMFgCO-ddsjRtDXJ_FlaaltfxEiex5xU92qmAuJ/s1600-h/Coastpath47.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114084124358152450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDamAIviTGp4Udm0ftesc46CHzKQDeCSzzTlPuXzFj28BNRvP8oy6zOE9Q1TBqNYC2L26sQ165r5ji6fxJhAfa6nD8dchzD0_roCIi5RMFgCO-ddsjRtDXJ_FlaaltfxEiex5xU92qmAuJ/s400/Coastpath47.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VYUn-DNqFaud58hcK3vR8oP0sT78cTYme8Q-1i3G5Ub3nzMiOCS082xhOy_RTY5Ga_2kz_R3nqpCHXmMzO1dS6m_GAmmZSWJBtYdpnzPFuD2NcuXB43BDxWLavVd7IB2E028uM8BMEsn/s1600-h/Mist3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114084021278937330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VYUn-DNqFaud58hcK3vR8oP0sT78cTYme8Q-1i3G5Ub3nzMiOCS082xhOy_RTY5Ga_2kz_R3nqpCHXmMzO1dS6m_GAmmZSWJBtYdpnzPFuD2NcuXB43BDxWLavVd7IB2E028uM8BMEsn/s400/Mist3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMEcsjign_xq06AJk-ZFrZ1iMF1e-izMqx9FVfTY5s6okngoFP9Eu_Y8fyW0hwNJTHLwZ6R1DAGqYjQM-RsRUYyZKEKKMAtv70gBWiewfo0SgJzM13hNJidgkjzIDaEqSrYeNDorgS2Jmx/s1600-h/Mist5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114083905314820322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMEcsjign_xq06AJk-ZFrZ1iMF1e-izMqx9FVfTY5s6okngoFP9Eu_Y8fyW0hwNJTHLwZ6R1DAGqYjQM-RsRUYyZKEKKMAtv70gBWiewfo0SgJzM13hNJidgkjzIDaEqSrYeNDorgS2Jmx/s400/Mist5.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-38363436101476742092007-09-23T11:56:00.000+00:002007-09-23T12:15:09.897+00:00Welsh Snapshots 1<div style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Pictures of the Welsh Coast in North Pembrokeshire near the start of the coastal path<br /><br />Careg Yspar</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaH6fFyPWDPExBNbivF60tBf6WJQ3Z6edU58xBLIiatESV1e4-pQNQLbGgYYY76AMCRU4f7taubsJ9zbwrUnxPR2SddBUW2ro-gqwT0yGcKh3o7LF-nO774lAPAIDAKLpvZnwrzH_vFOTc/s1600-h/CaregYspar3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaH6fFyPWDPExBNbivF60tBf6WJQ3Z6edU58xBLIiatESV1e4-pQNQLbGgYYY76AMCRU4f7taubsJ9zbwrUnxPR2SddBUW2ro-gqwT0yGcKh3o7LF-nO774lAPAIDAKLpvZnwrzH_vFOTc/s400/CaregYspar3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113369308656111682" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXKsZy8JGoEh3sM3THVqqYeqc5_2LLLfZp5EVMuxFCWiErttyusWy1MRJsNl5c3ghMr7zAgPnun0QBYABcUb-hR0Nlv7feQEmjZVzvFdBqSRXTjOFjVu5IXcsXpmzb8wmZdKT9ZF6tkB2Q/s1600-h/CaregYspar10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXKsZy8JGoEh3sM3THVqqYeqc5_2LLLfZp5EVMuxFCWiErttyusWy1MRJsNl5c3ghMr7zAgPnun0QBYABcUb-hR0Nlv7feQEmjZVzvFdBqSRXTjOFjVu5IXcsXpmzb8wmZdKT9ZF6tkB2Q/s400/CaregYspar10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113371400305184850" border="0" /></a></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb9Hkrj09KG8eqGrZJSddmtSgVIaLbstSWiSA014-okboZ391hdvU0tUduYLzaTsDH9WMs9JK_RB195uWdSTxYLIe0e5SQBwQMLiY2IB5UTu0agjWY5KBCZylNmJhM01TAIDxl6-FCWOID/s1600-h/CaregYspar11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb9Hkrj09KG8eqGrZJSddmtSgVIaLbstSWiSA014-okboZ391hdvU0tUduYLzaTsDH9WMs9JK_RB195uWdSTxYLIe0e5SQBwQMLiY2IB5UTu0agjWY5KBCZylNmJhM01TAIDxl6-FCWOID/s400/CaregYspar11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113369025188270114" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtsPGR1gAFQvO9LtUxhHHzcZ_9CyBv5rVj-HhSXQvDEtzrCaDWRz6nYQodr2D3nNLuaCGLZ5iJMhtBZJgmG_LW2nz7U49Ji42SaplZNr0E48-NrMl4ccu28bU2QIBksCcwmj_6o3oRBeVu/s1600-h/CaregYspar13.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtsPGR1gAFQvO9LtUxhHHzcZ_9CyBv5rVj-HhSXQvDEtzrCaDWRz6nYQodr2D3nNLuaCGLZ5iJMhtBZJgmG_LW2nz7U49Ji42SaplZNr0E48-NrMl4ccu28bU2QIBksCcwmj_6o3oRBeVu/s400/CaregYspar13.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113368904929185810" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Ceibwr</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJL0PSBUoz5GVf0oHPQuJmH3mFP0UAXJJAiv1JUGi0BciWkkCCEdMd8DFSlCOcnxJa5sRgEZNfvRT136IHk7pjZbqku27dxF20t0GcufWb3d5OZG_muGtj8cbiZCPlPetTKrrdSqEjw1BI/s1600-h/Ceibwr3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJL0PSBUoz5GVf0oHPQuJmH3mFP0UAXJJAiv1JUGi0BciWkkCCEdMd8DFSlCOcnxJa5sRgEZNfvRT136IHk7pjZbqku27dxF20t0GcufWb3d5OZG_muGtj8cbiZCPlPetTKrrdSqEjw1BI/s400/Ceibwr3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113368647231148034" border="0" /></a><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxs6OA3TnBCYRdohl5QnlJStYfUHMvrw061JWyLtHII7LZK5vn3rjNzAVNf5fVwUGCQuPyKFXhs8c-RPMx8yBwa31_0zpRiKH46_8OOZD4MfQJwXF7ON_nnV8fj_g5APk_BJdR0u36TnmW/s1600-h/Ceibwr11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxs6OA3TnBCYRdohl5QnlJStYfUHMvrw061JWyLtHII7LZK5vn3rjNzAVNf5fVwUGCQuPyKFXhs8c-RPMx8yBwa31_0zpRiKH46_8OOZD4MfQJwXF7ON_nnV8fj_g5APk_BJdR0u36TnmW/s400/Ceibwr11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113368535561998322" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtmg9SfLzwhrw9XUeW8LPmfkkTpYvLvDyrljGM4fsotAUvB4acmmd0BEjHFKwUPVl54jNNY8ua_uOSwyrs1rHMmq-2TAKiAHvNKqoUuDBFIT2GqpG_vebxHZdxCI8spwH9H1x036LJaFB/s1600-h/Ceibwr15.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtmg9SfLzwhrw9XUeW8LPmfkkTpYvLvDyrljGM4fsotAUvB4acmmd0BEjHFKwUPVl54jNNY8ua_uOSwyrs1rHMmq-2TAKiAHvNKqoUuDBFIT2GqpG_vebxHZdxCI8spwH9H1x036LJaFB/s400/Ceibwr15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113368350878404578" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiueQzATjAFYtEMoTiVjVSymHCC1aGTQKw0hDy7ZBNJr4KkiIecNViYmIOU0wFfcO2BFkYQPoh0KPzgNzbTMokvoK6LhssvA1iNGRkmhg8qiHmnCg3NE85tEg0tG8ydIUcHvzEcWJH6WDyj/s1600-h/Ceibwr20.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiueQzATjAFYtEMoTiVjVSymHCC1aGTQKw0hDy7ZBNJr4KkiIecNViYmIOU0wFfcO2BFkYQPoh0KPzgNzbTMokvoK6LhssvA1iNGRkmhg8qiHmnCg3NE85tEg0tG8ydIUcHvzEcWJH6WDyj/s400/Ceibwr20.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113368200554549202" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">A waterfall at Cenarth, just inland</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgogf5vaPaRlWXtJKQ29trMz_wbjnavSG-ZKF9e1t7lNFM7OEVv4IQZnjduEaOaPmF1F6WI3LP-y22N4EsrYdlft02ffZOyDfgArmtMVDvFK0EhOs_hcHD9tBmnLf3tcBC-F6RgjZ_Pzokr/s1600-h/Cenarth3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgogf5vaPaRlWXtJKQ29trMz_wbjnavSG-ZKF9e1t7lNFM7OEVv4IQZnjduEaOaPmF1F6WI3LP-y22N4EsrYdlft02ffZOyDfgArmtMVDvFK0EhOs_hcHD9tBmnLf3tcBC-F6RgjZ_Pzokr/s400/Cenarth3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113367844072263618" border="0" /></a><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDwh32z5Ou94hsXvt7zOziemnZ2w7P1iGRo85kWFPTZIYaLO0SW_9Qaq7uyd998JQc7dct6Tk8F6OzVoBOiq5TZLYk3CYX4FAwxc8Vg0c9gMdibhNeNwgy1nxW2gP1SwtiikXHv5jYMc0B/s1600-h/Cenarth8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDwh32z5Ou94hsXvt7zOziemnZ2w7P1iGRo85kWFPTZIYaLO0SW_9Qaq7uyd998JQc7dct6Tk8F6OzVoBOiq5TZLYk3CYX4FAwxc8Vg0c9gMdibhNeNwgy1nxW2gP1SwtiikXHv5jYMc0B/s400/Cenarth8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113367693748408242" border="0" /></a>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-79711480706945338072007-08-18T19:16:00.000+00:002007-08-19T09:59:57.779+00:00Paris<strong></strong><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc7Xs3bJ3bY22EA47b0C5npI32JokrOl9ks7sH6t1Gvp3QA140PivZi6OSudNyysEPwhjkLxFhaby67FTLwp702dmKiMdG_-VvlMR_iGUHcW_INSQ8P6CIQ52iGkW1TMl1SLe3XYVGspoR/s1600-h/Seine15.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100128802211135602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc7Xs3bJ3bY22EA47b0C5npI32JokrOl9ks7sH6t1Gvp3QA140PivZi6OSudNyysEPwhjkLxFhaby67FTLwp702dmKiMdG_-VvlMR_iGUHcW_INSQ8P6CIQ52iGkW1TMl1SLe3XYVGspoR/s400/Seine15.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><p class="MsoBodyText">It’s Tuesday and there is the acrid smell of stale urine in the air so it must be Paris. Despite the abolition of the pissoir, that distinctive smell has not gone, just changed its location slightly. Here on the banks of the Seine it lurks by the bridges.</p><p class="MsoBodyText">Outside the Musee d’Orsay an enormous queue snakes away from the entrance. We stop to look at the bronzes outside. The rhinoceros is striking. ‘J’s’ eye is drawn to a man in a large sombrero. He is holding up a rectangle of black paper and a pair of scissors and rapidly, with great dexterity, cutting out the silhouette of an Asian girl. It’s a ‘snip’ at three euros so ‘J’ is his next customer. When he finds she is English he explains that though the silhouette is a French invention it really took off on Victorian Britain before returning to France. A bit like that overrated tipple Champagne.</p><p class="MsoBodyText"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82LNhwzI66KZAqaKDo7vY78fM8Vcmv8nmUjAwmub-W0_r39qAZmDG-FH0S0amol5ioWS-NFdaMWjLkvsm-2rNRk3m4Nd5aJ0Ve7UOEhStErXL4b1qiA5q0LmhEKBk2gG7wyX5K8epNYt0/s1600-h/Seine16.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100128450023817298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj82LNhwzI66KZAqaKDo7vY78fM8Vcmv8nmUjAwmub-W0_r39qAZmDG-FH0S0amol5ioWS-NFdaMWjLkvsm-2rNRk3m4Nd5aJ0Ve7UOEhStErXL4b1qiA5q0LmhEKBk2gG7wyX5K8epNYt0/s400/Seine16.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoBodyText">Over the other side of the river we make our way past the Louvre and along the plage by the river, passing sunbathers, rock climbers, water gardens that literally soak you, and stop for Ice cream.</p><p class="MsoBodyText"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65fqd2kB4JT64oX3FfRJkWMK0wS8J04IM6faJ7_ox7hEfiquGGErKg8UowNnZuLYn10eZx3wMFE3zEwxGDbQUomUYT1ox9yVjozOW7D1Rq2d-NvhNWUUjC3FYCYrFCRKUCosteIU79l8t/s1600-h/Seine19.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100128196620746818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi65fqd2kB4JT64oX3FfRJkWMK0wS8J04IM6faJ7_ox7hEfiquGGErKg8UowNnZuLYn10eZx3wMFE3zEwxGDbQUomUYT1ox9yVjozOW7D1Rq2d-NvhNWUUjC3FYCYrFCRKUCosteIU79l8t/s400/Seine19.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:0;"> </span></p><p class="MsoBodyText">Beyond the plage we cross a lock and there under the shelter of a road overpass is an encampment. Rows of tents designate bedrooms and old armchairs, supermarket trolleys and a table, the living room. Over the other side of the river, along a small strip of garden are many more tents, plastic tables and chairs. Has the French obsession with ‘Le Camping’ got out of control? We enquire of our Parisian companion. She explains that the tents were donated to the homeless during the winter but have since served to make the problem worse and also to give it an air of permanence, like the beginnings of a shanty town in a third world city. We pass a group playing boules beside a roaring fire in an oil drum.</p><p class="MsoBodyText"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7uKKi_pXAYbtKuZr1-NQYjIjTZ1Sw1N9Es6zrtXRkSp6MCd6Kz9BzGw9KvVlsqK0Rc6NWNksMOpDHKatzZaw6Pv6e4DPgOVnfiEZXXAOWEyyqucynjuu9NdSMC0d3RT3qoKNaqtW6e52/s1600-h/Seine22.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100127870203232306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij7uKKi_pXAYbtKuZr1-NQYjIjTZ1Sw1N9Es6zrtXRkSp6MCd6Kz9BzGw9KvVlsqK0Rc6NWNksMOpDHKatzZaw6Pv6e4DPgOVnfiEZXXAOWEyyqucynjuu9NdSMC0d3RT3qoKNaqtW6e52/s400/Seine22.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">The garden expands a bit now and the tents disappear, to be replaced by sculpture in stone, concrete, cast and sheet metal. For a while we stare at a particularly nice kinetic piece. It is made of rectangular sheets of polished steel with a slight bend in each one. They are pivoted in the middle and the frames that hold them also pivot and move with the slightest breeze. The sculpture rotates and moves, seemingly randomly and the rectangles reflect constantly changing images, mostly of the blue sky above and the scudding Constable clouds.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjJL99ZOfhtDGxrCMY7Ru9QWUCLMAkU7ubC3e6n3EadtDF8RZZtsYRmd3tOK7D-jP9AOx_0QUa0XqinBnCM6g6tGtnSN5E6DRgb2ULvtC7wkZG5pyztU627wxe5gku4jHVzkmKvf200wYQ/s1600-h/Branly2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100127423526633506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjJL99ZOfhtDGxrCMY7Ru9QWUCLMAkU7ubC3e6n3EadtDF8RZZtsYRmd3tOK7D-jP9AOx_0QUa0XqinBnCM6g6tGtnSN5E6DRgb2ULvtC7wkZG5pyztU627wxe5gku4jHVzkmKvf200wYQ/s400/Branly2.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggwbDCaGEvDcwSWiaebbLeo5RF4b02iDsdXLYeYiL4RoZ_NMF1xtS2TszxlFXx6qxcDzGYNhbslVsolyKvVGJr2PMclxeagCL0RUd_Nz3n9pkbGsLYNg1-x_Zy6hA153Bi4Now_lI0uHjx/s1600-h/Branly3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100127161533628434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggwbDCaGEvDcwSWiaebbLeo5RF4b02iDsdXLYeYiL4RoZ_NMF1xtS2TszxlFXx6qxcDzGYNhbslVsolyKvVGJr2PMclxeagCL0RUd_Nz3n9pkbGsLYNg1-x_Zy6hA153Bi4Now_lI0uHjx/s400/Branly3.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:0;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">On Wednesday we go to the Musee du Quay Branly, Jacque Chirac’s answer to the Pompidou centre, a museum of ethnic art from around the world. The building is quite interesting from the outside especially one façade which, apart from the windows, is covered in a vertical garden. Inside I’m not so impressed. The colour scheme is black and brown and the lighting dim for the most part. I am not quite sure why as most of the exhibits do not seem to be the kind that require low lighting to conserve them. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">The exhibitions are divided into regions and we start with Oceania, work through Asia, Africa and finish with the Americas. Although there are some old pieces, much of the collection dates from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. There is lots of astounding stuff, far too much to absorb properly in one visit, let alone describe here. I tune into faces and masks and the great variety of ways different cultures depict them. The gap between them and the imagery of much modern art seems very small, although that may be down to the fact that they are on exhibition rather than in use. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">After about four hours we stagger out into the daylight and head for the café, which instead of being situated in the gallery, a logical place to give one the chance of a break from all that cultural input, is just about as far away as they could get it whilst still on site. A tea is an astronomical five euros and I am too appalled (and tight) to have one. My companions have two coffees, which for nine euros is, as I point out, one euro more than the book I have just bought with eighty fine photos of masterpieces in the collection, together with some very interesting snippets of background info on the objects pictured.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBfFO7xAj2pHuJJVdh3P5chbLUfbweC-Tl5Yrg77xH7AKY9026baxWhJ7aUKbc_UEF60Sp3KIqAZymRx1d-ZetH93cmUZ7H8uYWfiD3QXrc8uBm8j0BV8-b8Oc0il0vCODwoeAx1HJpc0/s1600-h/Sceaux1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100126753511735298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXBfFO7xAj2pHuJJVdh3P5chbLUfbweC-Tl5Yrg77xH7AKY9026baxWhJ7aUKbc_UEF60Sp3KIqAZymRx1d-ZetH93cmUZ7H8uYWfiD3QXrc8uBm8j0BV8-b8Oc0il0vCODwoeAx1HJpc0/s400/Sceaux1.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">On Thursday J and I give our French friend, what I am sure, is a welcome morning rest from her role as tour guide and visit a local park at Sceaux. The avenue leading up to it is stunningly lined with clipped Lime trees, which teams of men are in the process of trimming. As the trees are thirty or so feet tall and there are four rows of them up a road that must be half a kilometre long, this is no mean feat. The main tool is a circular saw, mounted on the side of a cherry picker that is slowly slicing its way down a row.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgelcBcytNL869ZZlGowt-7HFLvNfRyZztGJDPcLul0P6Vx0lWbMMxyClH_9iL2b98R34VRO1npv2h30uPeDa_U2iKao7gXT4PNujmd8Wi3m3TPJQmqWEO-WgZOf-mMgYtH9kVyRhi2-3UX/s1600-h/Sceaux8.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100126397029449714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgelcBcytNL869ZZlGowt-7HFLvNfRyZztGJDPcLul0P6Vx0lWbMMxyClH_9iL2b98R34VRO1npv2h30uPeDa_U2iKao7gXT4PNujmd8Wi3m3TPJQmqWEO-WgZOf-mMgYtH9kVyRhi2-3UX/s400/Sceaux8.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">At the top of the avenue we reach the chateau and pass it into the formal gardens beyond. Here are lawns, clipped yew cones and low hedges containing herbaceous borders. The planting is interesting; the flowers are limited to red, white and the occasional purple with much of the variety coming from variegated and purple foliage. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">To the left of this area and below stretches a large rectangular lake. We make our way down to it and it becomes apparent, as we walk round that there are two large circular pools connected either side of it, halfway down its length. We circumnavigate it anticlockwise and coming to the second pool, which is made more secluded by surrounding trees, find a powerful single fountain jet in its centre, a solitary angler, two beautiful sculptures of groups of larger than life deer and a stairway of water that feeds the lake, descending from the gardens we had left above.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">In the late afternoon we go back into the centre of Paris, book advance tickets at the Musee d’Orsay for the next day and then go to the Orangerie to see Monet’s Water lilies. They have been re-sited in 2006 and are now on a purpose built floor at the top of the building so that they are once again (as they were when they were originally exhibited) illuminated by diffused daylight, coming from above, The rooms are not too crowded and there are spaces here and there on the central seats in the two rooms, to sit and contemplate. The pictures have a wonderful energy of light and movement, yet at the same time, tranquillity.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidAU_Msf_KelsqEGO5iZTVqPswR-gehQ4kmGt4EVIMy03k4g0GG4YepDI9vOkalR4orQ24FEF3xwxmCNJn3yjb0Kv85D_FNrt-3v7lARxJVzhDkIzTCtkdV2ykcrKdlnli7X0uIjcNf1Q6/s1600-h/Cezanne.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100125851568603106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidAU_Msf_KelsqEGO5iZTVqPswR-gehQ4kmGt4EVIMy03k4g0GG4YepDI9vOkalR4orQ24FEF3xwxmCNJn3yjb0Kv85D_FNrt-3v7lARxJVzhDkIzTCtkdV2ykcrKdlnli7X0uIjcNf1Q6/s400/Cezanne.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Downstairs is a collection of impressionist and post impressionist pictures. Of particular note for me, is a small Cézanne version of ‘Le <span lang="FR">Dejeuner</span> sur la Herbe’ and three delightful Soutine portraits.</p><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEzsPqrSDkUbgRNaP1sUsFuvKDoB6uu8eZDa1qCWX272MY9s4GNAOoIffUiSr4_C_COkjYIX52S0OgBQvvnDG03fZYhJqnD1Vrh_WYf7K7H0iwPVfFk9Z7hnYks75faenpgkIxmuy955Qm/s1600-h/HenryMoore1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100125288927887314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEzsPqrSDkUbgRNaP1sUsFuvKDoB6uu8eZDa1qCWX272MY9s4GNAOoIffUiSr4_C_COkjYIX52S0OgBQvvnDG03fZYhJqnD1Vrh_WYf7K7H0iwPVfFk9Z7hnYks75faenpgkIxmuy955Qm/s400/HenryMoore1.jpg" border="0" /></a> <p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Outside we look at some Rodin Bronzes, including a version of ‘The kiss’ and a very good Henry Moore reclining woman.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcfhhuYd-ne2a3l7RsCOshJ3q3NIG2jauaHuv3kFqXJkzKmMz7xK_hF0o9IirWGPRwz1y0fuD8A7B4VvRxZsZlrc2xWUVPoj-H1HCnGEA8ZLUMyW7rwbf20ajA0aqnQ3QRTCjZT4kj9h0E/s1600-h/QuaydOrsay10.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100124434229395394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcfhhuYd-ne2a3l7RsCOshJ3q3NIG2jauaHuv3kFqXJkzKmMz7xK_hF0o9IirWGPRwz1y0fuD8A7B4VvRxZsZlrc2xWUVPoj-H1HCnGEA8ZLUMyW7rwbf20ajA0aqnQ3QRTCjZT4kj9h0E/s400/QuaydOrsay10.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Friday is Musee d’Orsay and thanks to our pre booking we waltz past the queue, which is already a pretty long snake at ten in the morning. The building is a converted railway terminus and lends itself well to its new life as an art gallery with the central hall, where the trains stopped, open to the glass-covered roof. We make our way to the fifth floor and the Impressionist and Post Impressionist collection. Although we are fairly early the first few rooms, with all the big name paintings and sculpture, are horrendous. Guided tours in various languages speed through to selected paintings, which are then monopolised while the guides deliver their spiel. These rooms pass for me, as a kind of claustrophobic blur. Some images stand out, the Degas dancers and a beautiful Monet of the<span lang="FR"> Gare</span> Saint Lazare, but despite the fact that I am surrounded by brilliant paintings, most are swept away in a cacophony of people. Fortunately it gets better; as we progress deeper in to the collection the crowds thin. Seemingly many have just come to tick certain images off, like filling in an I spy book, been there seen that. We come across some good Gauguins and a Dournier Rousseau with its magical jungle world.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">We break for lunch in the level six café and re-charge our sensory batteries before descending to level two. Here it is even quieter yet there are stunning paintings by Bonnard and Vuillard amongst others, sculpture by Rodin and a superb collection of Art Nouveau furniture including reconstructions of whole rooms. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">By the time we have finished this floor we are too saturated with imagery to attempt the ground floor with its Pre Impressionist collection. It must await another visit. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Saturday is the grand finale with a trip out to Versailles to see the gardens. Normally these are free which, given their huge size and the incredible amount of maintenance, is a real bargain.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>However on Saturdays, from April to September there are ‘Les Grandes Eaux Musicales’ when twice a day the fountains are turned on to the accompaniment of music. There are lots of spectacular water features and the event is worth ever penny of the seven euros admission.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Versailles was, of course, the palace of Louis the Fourteenth, the Sun King and the huge gardens were laid out under the direction of his minister Colbert and the architect Andre Le Notre. The main features of the garden were to be water and fountains, despite the fact that the site chosen was conspicuously lacking in this resource. Sculptors, architects, engineers and craftsmen were employed, together with a workforce of 30,000 downtrodden serfs who laboured for over twenty years to realise the project. It is a tribute to them that the original hydraulic system, gravity fed water features and fountains all still work 350 years later.</p><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;">The gardens are laid out in a formal and symmetrical grid and subdivided into flower gardens, fountain areas and a large number of Bosquets. These are wooded areas further divided with paths in various patterns, many of them containing fountain or water feature centrepieces. Without a map one would become hopelessly lost, as in combination they form a kind of maze. I can only imagine the lubriciously decadent affairs and intrigue that happened within them. Women in huge crinolines and piles of false hair, the heavily bewigged men, curls cascading to their waists, lacy flounces everywhere, shoes with points so long the tips had to be tied back so they could walk and both sexes heavily plastered with makeup. Peering round the corner “Now was it the Bassin de Bacchus or the bloody Bosquet des Bains de Apollon, and where exactly am I now anyway?” There is a wonderful variety of spouts, columns, jets, walls, curtains and staircases of water, both formal and informal. The gardens are big enough that, despite the huge numbers of people there, they do not seem crowded; indeed some places are quite secluded. With a well planned route all the fountains can be seen in the hour and a half they are working, yet this is just to skim the surface of the gardens, for beyond them is a huge lake and the whole is surrounded by landscaped countryside walks. There is also a large and entirely separate kitchen garden on the other side of the town, which provided the fresh fruit and vegetables for the huge palace.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-O1F5ZrITHmdtvfvtL3FcCrex9HGZw_i98EPsjfABAVawm6VwY3Tj6uftWa1w83B0iUcbStWjhyL_Sk7ITY0ICy1OlYVF09x0BnMw8dRW7aVKsZtw7I7nqAWM4DZy99EzQjzRUfvlRP96/s1600-h/Versailles8.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100123880178614194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-O1F5ZrITHmdtvfvtL3FcCrex9HGZw_i98EPsjfABAVawm6VwY3Tj6uftWa1w83B0iUcbStWjhyL_Sk7ITY0ICy1OlYVF09x0BnMw8dRW7aVKsZtw7I7nqAWM4DZy99EzQjzRUfvlRP96/s400/Versailles8.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDLw3Wp4adEx0267MpHsk65R2HA97-e66kP-G6MF2p5ZQ4pwNEuHMMpxSrmEi_0W12rCuonI_x1P4T-qcVG0FzTztIMkwP92pGf2_gM4U50iBTLLhcdwv4FMYV4tiqNO_axvqAUSQcGlqp/s1600-h/Versailles12.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100123631070510994" style="DISPLAY: block; 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MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiC9TYYEhpQyCezBC1jhHgpMiRsBLcdB6PUBubeMIlQ2p2-lJNqsbAU1hamg4X6cJSKBBYvuetw2GVoR2Dg-wVgvq1Ede4AIgppR6N7wa_1jUCp8TWEy5Q1RhYGvHpJmSns77mPJlJY20Gs/s400/Versailles24.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBywc4NtN6UpiWB-yjWIJOMhwMSSJCKW0rk36C5yDwd5cdPxcKUz_vlglliPzHchNMTU8uLe2LhOpE9OpoqSHzJOSevI3TNus82cTB1S1Wcc3jchgoAh6DjS7hFHeRzaPfcK96ea37bFa5/s1600-h/Versailles30.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100123317537898338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBywc4NtN6UpiWB-yjWIJOMhwMSSJCKW0rk36C5yDwd5cdPxcKUz_vlglliPzHchNMTU8uLe2LhOpE9OpoqSHzJOSevI3TNus82cTB1S1Wcc3jchgoAh6DjS7hFHeRzaPfcK96ea37bFa5/s400/Versailles30.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijzV4oTEz20kv-cixYOhldSHOnVza9iXkKHtR4VlgUDXaWuMEdV3GsD9Q3rSrAI-TaKpfH7FL2NEMoFPrrSY9Yi4OtWWMDNrjuxU2CEGYhjldqDEXlVeA1OVa2LxI2CM5a0aMigoNllo9K/s1600-h/Versailles32.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100123223048617810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijzV4oTEz20kv-cixYOhldSHOnVza9iXkKHtR4VlgUDXaWuMEdV3GsD9Q3rSrAI-TaKpfH7FL2NEMoFPrrSY9Yi4OtWWMDNrjuxU2CEGYhjldqDEXlVeA1OVa2LxI2CM5a0aMigoNllo9K/s400/Versailles32.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNq98_4H6RI_PF4gHn-wDVsKRiyQNVmqWsZsHT-BICeJVW2vQZbV7nTfO5hmyc3TDGwA5bbzrRinbXRFW4uZHEkvwxXyHiYcZK-Bux_Ytg0akU7_289Q5hWxLgixyXxH3zWy5CFMdtNvr3/s1600-h/Versailles34.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5100123119969402690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNq98_4H6RI_PF4gHn-wDVsKRiyQNVmqWsZsHT-BICeJVW2vQZbV7nTfO5hmyc3TDGwA5bbzrRinbXRFW4uZHEkvwxXyHiYcZK-Bux_Ytg0akU7_289Q5hWxLgixyXxH3zWy5CFMdtNvr3/s400/Versailles34.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"><span style="font-size:0;"></span></span><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:12;"><span style="font-size:0;"></span></span>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-27450161015808535212007-08-02T10:37:00.000+00:002007-08-02T19:27:24.603+00:00The Russian Soldier<h1><span style="FONT-WEIGHT: normal"><span style="font-size:78%;">This is cobbled together from a half remembered Radio 4 play heard many years ago that was based on a Russian Folk Tale..............Or is it?<?xml:namespace prefix = o /><o:p></o:p></span></span></h1><h1><o:p></o:p></h1><h1 style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"><span style="font-size:100%;">The Russian Soldier</span></h1><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText">Several hundred years ago a Russian soldier was returning from the wars. As he tramped along a path in the countryside he came across an old man begging by the roadside. The man looked careworn and half starved. This was not surprising as the winter had been hard and there was a shortage of food in the land. The soldier had some dry biscuits in his pockets and touched by the old man’s parlous state he took them out and gave them to him. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">After he had walked another mile or so he came across another old man in a similar state to the first. He had no more food but he had a couple of pennies so he gave these to the old man instead and continued on his way.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">He came to a third old man and said, “I’m sorry but I have nothing left. What I had I gave to two old men further back along the path.” </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">“Don’t worry my boy,” the third old man said, “I know of your charity and I also know you have given all you had, a generous act in times as difficult as these. So I have come to give something to you in return. You gave twice so I have two gifts for you. The first is this set of dice. When you play with these dice you will always win. The second gift is the more precious, it’s this bag.” And he passed the soldier a large shabby looking canvas bag with a big flap that buckled over it as a lid. “ I know the bag does not look like much but it has special properties. If you say the words ‘Into the bag’ at whatever you point it at and name when it is open, that thing will go into the bag.” The soldier took the dice and the bag, thanked the old man and continued on his way thinking to himself ‘Well mate you met a right one there. Magic dice and magic bag eh. Whatever next.’</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">After he had walked another mile or so he saw a fat goose waddling along in the distance. He was feeling quite hungry now; it was close to sunset and a long time since breakfast, the last time he had eaten. ‘Well it can’t do any harm to try the bag’ he thought to himself and unslinging it from his shoulder, he opened the flap, pointed it at the goose and shouted “Into the bag goose.” There was a thump, some furious thrashing and honking as the bag jumped around in his hands. Quickly he pulled the flap over and buckled it up and the goose went quiet. ‘Well that’s supper taken care of,’ he thought surprised and impressed.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">He continued on his way for a bit and spotting some houses in the distance decided to see if he might get a bed there for the night in exchange for a share of the goose. Sure enough there was a small Inn at the village and, times being what they were, the Innkeeper was only too happy to cook the goose, add some vegetables and throw in a bed and a bowl of porridge for breakfast in exchange for a share of the bird.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center">************</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoBodyText">In the morning whilst chatting over breakfast the soldier learnt that there was a palace nearby that was owned by the Tsar. He never came there or used it any more and neither did anybody else as it was haunted by the most ferocious devils and anybody who had dared to spend the night would be found the next day gibbering, mad. The soldier was immediately interested, asked for directions and despite people begging him not to, vowed that he would spend the night there. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">He went out and using his magic bag caught a pheasant and returning to the Inn bartered it for some lunch, some bread and cheese for the evening and the loan of a blanket. Then he set out for the abandoned palace. It was a magnificent building, with all its furnishings, fixtures and fittings still intact, although somewhat damp and dusty, as it had remained unused for many years. The soldier commenced a thorough exploration and eventually settled on a bedroom to spend the night. He had located some stumps of candles, the bed still had a mattress, so he ate his simple supper in the flickering candlelight then made himself comfortable on the bed. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">At exactly the stroke of midnight there was a hideous cackling sound, a whoosh of air and a thunderous voice shouted, “Who dares to trespass in the Devil’s palace?” A grotesque crowd of imps and demons materialised in the room and, in their centre, the malevolent form of Beelzebub. The soldier kept his cool and replied, “That’s odd I thought it was the Tsar’s palace and I have come to get it back for him.” After some violent argument the soldier challenged the devil to a game of dice, his soul against the return of the palace. The game began and of course, as the soldier was using his own dice, he trounced the devil. Beelzebub, who had never been beaten before, rose up in fury, but quick as a flash, the soldier picked up the magic bag, pointed it at the devils and shouted the words “Into the bag devils.” Due to its magical properties all the devils were squashed into the bag and the soldier buckled them in. He then began pounding the bag with a large stick until the devils inside were pleading for mercy. At this point the soldier did a deal with Beelzebub. He was to leave and take his imps and demons with him, never to darken the door of the palace again. As he had already won this fair and square with the dice, he extracted a further promise from the devil that should he ever need help he had only to call and Beelzebub would come at once.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>Having got this signed and sealed he let the devils free and they rushed off swearing and cursing straight back to hell. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">The soldier slept the few remaining hours of the night, and in the morning was roused by a hubbub of voices outside. The people were amazed when he came out calm, unruffled and perfectly sane. He told them he had banished the devils and the palace was perfectly safe now. Word soon got round and the Tsar, who was in the area, turned up. When he found out that the soldier had rid his palace of devils he was overwhelmed with gratitude and richly rewarded the soldier with a large farm and bags of gold. The soldier settled down and became a farmer.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify" align="center">*************</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Many years passed of the soldier living in contentment when rumour spread of a dark plague travelling the land. Soon it was amongst the people where the soldier turned farmer lived. People came to him in desperation as he had a reputation for sound advice. After pondering for a while the soldier remembered the devil’s promise to help him if he called, and summoned him. He explained the problem and asked the Devil if there was anything he could do.<span style="font-size:0;"> </span>“You cannot alter the fate of the sick people. “ said the Devil. “All I can do to help is to give you something that will allow you to know whether the sick person will die or recover, but if I do that makes things even between us and you can never call me again.” The soldier agreed and the Devil gave him a glass. “You must fill this with water and stand at the foot of the bed of the sick person and look through it. You will see a woman in the glass. If she seems to be standing at the foot of the bed the person will get well, however, if she is standing at the head of the bed then they will die.” Then with a flash the devil was gone, leaving just a whiff of sulphur in the air.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">The plague dragged on with many people falling sick and the soldier who had become a farmer now got a reputation as a doctor as he was unfailing in his diagnosis of whether a person would live or die. One day the Tsar’s son fell ill with the plague and the Tsar having heard of the soldier’s reputation called him to the palace to examine his son. The soldier produced his glass, filled it with water and looked through it at the boy tossing and turning on the bed. To his horror death was standing at the head of the bed and seemed to be about to take the boys life. Without thinking the soldier unslung the bag from his shoulder and pointing it at the woman shouted “Into the bag Death”.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Taking the bag with him the soldier journeyed to the far north and just where the trees gave out he selected the highest one, climbed it and tied the bag to the top. Then turning wearily, he trudged back home.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">As time went by word got around that the soldier had trapped Death. Sure enough no more people were dying and the Tsar’s son got better. However people still got older and after a few years some of the oldest began to complain. Many were living in pain and discomfort or had lost their sight, ability to move or worse. Eventually one old lady who was desperate to die, having lived well beyond her allotted span, went to the soldier and pleaded with him to bring back Death. The soldier could see that things were not quite as simple as he had thought and that there was sense in what she was saying so he agreed to go back and find Death. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">He retraced his steps, taken all those years ago and climbing to the top of the tree and undid the bag and brought it down. “Death, Death are you there. Can you hear me?” He shouted to the bag. “Yes.” Came her calm reply. He explained what had happened and how people were pleading to die and then let her out of the bag. Death stood before him and looked him in the eye. “When you trapped me you did a terrible thing and upset the natural order of things.” She said. “I will now return to my work, but because of what you have done I will never come for you. You are condemned to wander the world forever and without rest.”</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Which is how I come to be here to tell you this story today.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><span style="font-size:85%;"></span></p>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-41177829797038442252007-07-13T17:00:00.000+00:002007-07-13T17:05:18.433+00:00Millstone Grit and Clouds<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Up in the hills of Derbyshire in early July</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrogxSZozA01PokE-PN_lwoLLAec_zf52HLR3grU1gR5IBXlGQYe9WD7Zglpf6xVYPgPtLPvUWpsqmaPr4gJL5iavxirifRlZ2qKwBARk9rYHvQSR5kLfyO5VbTDznS1UJeH_MOQtmyl_e/s1600-h/White3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrogxSZozA01PokE-PN_lwoLLAec_zf52HLR3grU1gR5IBXlGQYe9WD7Zglpf6xVYPgPtLPvUWpsqmaPr4gJL5iavxirifRlZ2qKwBARk9rYHvQSR5kLfyO5VbTDznS1UJeH_MOQtmyl_e/s400/White3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086728234202427794" border="0" /></a><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLr6QbkQhC5Suq_4rBWvhlzQ22LgNgvfEJjMbAFbVywchLlEiLGDuuFIaO9JiPbj_q3S8q2qbVZTK4U4XSjs4KsHKbNPYtJhpkdGi0JBOJAcyVTV3fTbR2OOo-2zUzR-Jolg7q-WQfX0YH/s1600-h/White7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLr6QbkQhC5Suq_4rBWvhlzQ22LgNgvfEJjMbAFbVywchLlEiLGDuuFIaO9JiPbj_q3S8q2qbVZTK4U4XSjs4KsHKbNPYtJhpkdGi0JBOJAcyVTV3fTbR2OOo-2zUzR-Jolg7q-WQfX0YH/s400/White7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086728096763474306" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxQs0r0yHuY7QZ2_AZdjiDwipexchiWw_AQoMI8qkU3xI0k9homMNO3ZxeICJbTcq_Rj3wATj1rVxHHwWrA-pE35Fd_ngm939RXWZuvKiaMLch5-OX6Qtyn9BdbKqyaWekLAnWfMDc938/s1600-h/White15.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxQs0r0yHuY7QZ2_AZdjiDwipexchiWw_AQoMI8qkU3xI0k9homMNO3ZxeICJbTcq_Rj3wATj1rVxHHwWrA-pE35Fd_ngm939RXWZuvKiaMLch5-OX6Qtyn9BdbKqyaWekLAnWfMDc938/s400/White15.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086727963619488114" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8ma7FYCENnkxcpOKP_KGvXTGIwtCL5RyWrxMA7_JwmW9CO6__gqsAatfjgyVX1YoDkalV9QUCJ7lvr-78s8NbpqAGLCrr3knzgha5LsRq88xnZZtGrd1UQ7xYd9U3ESqrV-ayKBQoiqJ/s1600-h/White21.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk8ma7FYCENnkxcpOKP_KGvXTGIwtCL5RyWrxMA7_JwmW9CO6__gqsAatfjgyVX1YoDkalV9QUCJ7lvr-78s8NbpqAGLCrr3knzgha5LsRq88xnZZtGrd1UQ7xYd9U3ESqrV-ayKBQoiqJ/s400/White21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086727843360403810" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1CpOXTcXIarNUDGkAitSOE8vq7fMXAXrJl8ObNVb1yWzgd0GzjXixyzEzc5Iu-0GlTbIc1bmg-0COPu6sn-vl8Rihu1iiiUXjpPLAOYjtu8YwKt5KUOLin2bDlfYj-zE-UUMkEpEqf9zz/s1600-h/White27.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1CpOXTcXIarNUDGkAitSOE8vq7fMXAXrJl8ObNVb1yWzgd0GzjXixyzEzc5Iu-0GlTbIc1bmg-0COPu6sn-vl8Rihu1iiiUXjpPLAOYjtu8YwKt5KUOLin2bDlfYj-zE-UUMkEpEqf9zz/s400/White27.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086727714511384914" border="0" /></a>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-78001464743384691612007-06-11T17:08:00.001+00:002007-07-13T17:00:20.928+00:00UK Orchids<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:arial;">June is a good time for Orchids in the UK<br />This is a Common Spotted Orchid just coming in to flower<br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwkoAKMzLNDERZlOBftcvpBitqPCTXvv_BYBTemsqfmZvIVLYR2gPqgkboO4wknnB3xCQrWdUCPMQjAmJVhRTAXP-JJrF4GN_ceReOZE7cTfp66uIoQUzZNyCgZA-fFrfpTJDU65Xs-bSR/s1600-h/Commonspotted+Orchid10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwkoAKMzLNDERZlOBftcvpBitqPCTXvv_BYBTemsqfmZvIVLYR2gPqgkboO4wknnB3xCQrWdUCPMQjAmJVhRTAXP-JJrF4GN_ceReOZE7cTfp66uIoQUzZNyCgZA-fFrfpTJDU65Xs-bSR/s400/Commonspotted+Orchid10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074855733796064706" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">A week later</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieL7vnfWgU85aIIPHlZLKyETe7u2RJ70Pb94ey9efZdB3BWzt9bH5iJ32FWfuRx-2ZQBrq8V_Cylb2QC08wxLF5UcJyGtsHQnWew4Mhprotu7OpbWjzeE_euHMCB7kSsS0hzrzcsK7KSc8/s1600-h/CommonSpottedOrchid11.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieL7vnfWgU85aIIPHlZLKyETe7u2RJ70Pb94ey9efZdB3BWzt9bH5iJ32FWfuRx-2ZQBrq8V_Cylb2QC08wxLF5UcJyGtsHQnWew4Mhprotu7OpbWjzeE_euHMCB7kSsS0hzrzcsK7KSc8/s400/CommonSpottedOrchid11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078475038311894498" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">A Fragrant Orchid</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrVuBedZAapp29qaTpwoBp-Zg5A6zpB3GTkX9CsxoaGbQCv-9US3T3Nmboy5U1seG7Q8MA2r9jyEHq6_lzQnhWc_1VwYXYOJ1ApgUpO_IMvUVyMIIxnKBSFZIHLqDNIRk96GIZVa9MPN8/s1600-h/FragrantOrchid3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUrVuBedZAapp29qaTpwoBp-Zg5A6zpB3GTkX9CsxoaGbQCv-9US3T3Nmboy5U1seG7Q8MA2r9jyEHq6_lzQnhWc_1VwYXYOJ1ApgUpO_IMvUVyMIIxnKBSFZIHLqDNIRk96GIZVa9MPN8/s400/FragrantOrchid3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086727267834786114" border="0" /></a></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-79372650167077645282007-05-26T18:02:00.001+00:002007-05-26T18:20:48.627+00:00Andalusian Orchids take two<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Pursuing my mild obsession with Orchids I was delighted to discover one with large buds. As it was early May and a time when I had not been in Andalusia before I had high hopes that it would be one that I had not seen before and the large buds seemed to promise something pretty spectacular. I began a regular pilgrimage to the plant every day, which lasted for a week and a half. As you can see from the picture below the blossom was a bit of an anti climax. The Orchid is a Serapias or Tongue Orchid and the flower is the tiny, drab pointed petal sticking out. </span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidC8kumogVg08O_0ZpPexQlachhVNpxIEMgdixGuogfA7L_vVDAwnttW17GEu_ERzB6FCn3CnprXfIGdByZMU3ll4VODl4Mp0zuJolz2137s-5HEvxnbBaAJm2kL_yYCR9-aA5ga0z5okM/s1600-h/Serapias5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidC8kumogVg08O_0ZpPexQlachhVNpxIEMgdixGuogfA7L_vVDAwnttW17GEu_ERzB6FCn3CnprXfIGdByZMU3ll4VODl4Mp0zuJolz2137s-5HEvxnbBaAJm2kL_yYCR9-aA5ga0z5okM/s400/Serapias5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068934467472588034" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBPovXi949rWMkRtSoxDGwMkdZ7Six9D9r2Vt2oaQ6hugGTGIRliF446R119tqzVBKAgv2vOV6Kue9Tq26cijAhrQv02jE3W1Fa63btEkEOd-tgs_tihTPtdIrTxGw9cBFiitgOYrEVb6/s1600-h/EarlyPurple4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBPovXi949rWMkRtSoxDGwMkdZ7Six9D9r2Vt2oaQ6hugGTGIRliF446R119tqzVBKAgv2vOV6Kue9Tq26cijAhrQv02jE3W1Fa63btEkEOd-tgs_tihTPtdIrTxGw9cBFiitgOYrEVb6/s400/EarlyPurple4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068934875494481170" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">A variety of Early Purple Orchid<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDNKjYKKNfwfAN_kc7VnwjWC65L9OhaSPzzsKCL0J1o44gLFFhIK0eBT0UXXKVm9-qnFMlVNaTCQSJAWsZYjtFGqIvYN513R6_JC8-s-_wbqTQdQB7hKWhCQ433D55S25n3EjIzuBAQl7/s1600-h/BeeOrchid9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSDNKjYKKNfwfAN_kc7VnwjWC65L9OhaSPzzsKCL0J1o44gLFFhIK0eBT0UXXKVm9-qnFMlVNaTCQSJAWsZYjtFGqIvYN513R6_JC8-s-_wbqTQdQB7hKWhCQ433D55S25n3EjIzuBAQl7/s400/BeeOrchid9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068931491060251858" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">A very nicely marked Bee Orchid<br /></span></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-38545012171858043372007-04-16T11:24:00.000+00:002007-05-27T11:16:08.209+00:00Andalusian Orchids<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvL7aU_1VKKkXRBvzr6zX0To3DX2L5w11JzVUl0gydWHgYBRBlPwXq3omGhHJ5yzZjmMvlLPYtZu1pz6p1Dy28c449E6cxXHf-ekq-AmkDKlA_z8Xyp8JOMWq4V78l-hwtb4XWar68w7bR/s1600-h/BeeOrchid3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvL7aU_1VKKkXRBvzr6zX0To3DX2L5w11JzVUl0gydWHgYBRBlPwXq3omGhHJ5yzZjmMvlLPYtZu1pz6p1Dy28c449E6cxXHf-ekq-AmkDKlA_z8Xyp8JOMWq4V78l-hwtb4XWar68w7bR/s400/BeeOrchid3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053988064073602322" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Late Spider Orchid<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYt2pRQYkkM5GKvImcIKUIZnDRw_tOl14vFm5izCTxEFPYu4xBmuwm0Or2GAn9ItBFYBdA-zA6Ib4E_5XXNMcIHGFgpb56Jz-TeK34SIPjihZ0zA8khZWQmEmlyUEFQUZoYAnuYFB6cgwa/s1600-h/EarlyPurple2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYt2pRQYkkM5GKvImcIKUIZnDRw_tOl14vFm5izCTxEFPYu4xBmuwm0Or2GAn9ItBFYBdA-zA6Ib4E_5XXNMcIHGFgpb56Jz-TeK34SIPjihZ0zA8khZWQmEmlyUEFQUZoYAnuYFB6cgwa/s400/EarlyPurple2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053987797785629954" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Early Purple Orchid</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin32xUJ4_LufkRPClK4R9kl6XnENFSH4BhgtwSZQkMVuajsvBdsmN1uZpowsQqIwdD6KxGZ8gkj61hg3tKvm0g-m9GCiS4wa-lLucbRlB3p6z6S3Lb4FISjFOSj8GfqcA93j8f87sXpkhx/s1600-h/MirrorOrchid.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin32xUJ4_LufkRPClK4R9kl6XnENFSH4BhgtwSZQkMVuajsvBdsmN1uZpowsQqIwdD6KxGZ8gkj61hg3tKvm0g-m9GCiS4wa-lLucbRlB3p6z6S3Lb4FISjFOSj8GfqcA93j8f87sXpkhx/s400/MirrorOrchid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053987681821512946" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnCQK9IQljSQo6sretWOynWUtoVPFIFJGLIaydvCHY4x-iSx5E4vhO99J-gRGip9eSCFr2472jC0WAP-nsEh3c80cHCEubafrWcU7n7zrMOWAvytnMWPrA4LNKmZ4d92DkiUmxzkMaGjc/s1600-h/Mirror+Orchid2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRnCQK9IQljSQo6sretWOynWUtoVPFIFJGLIaydvCHY4x-iSx5E4vhO99J-gRGip9eSCFr2472jC0WAP-nsEh3c80cHCEubafrWcU7n7zrMOWAvytnMWPrA4LNKmZ4d92DkiUmxzkMaGjc/s400/Mirror+Orchid2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053987479958050018" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Mirror Orchid</span><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFLCEWqt1vCN3J4BFnYYyaLjA8ETDm5HJhxc5iPbMWYcIZGe_3aft-wp5TE2c9Jutu7ffcGlRprZN7a_DSI1a5QNZBmt-a0PNaeJmmqJNEK4rISEDXL3k7a1eHR9_kXGA2XpQ-HDx3s3C/s1600-h/PurpleButterfly1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbFLCEWqt1vCN3J4BFnYYyaLjA8ETDm5HJhxc5iPbMWYcIZGe_3aft-wp5TE2c9Jutu7ffcGlRprZN7a_DSI1a5QNZBmt-a0PNaeJmmqJNEK4rISEDXL3k7a1eHR9_kXGA2XpQ-HDx3s3C/s400/PurpleButterfly1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053987269504652498" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgepI5ucpT-H77hqrVA0vjddQEkywEge_IrDirFY184yLTicNYHttGCRgKIToQ55rVWl1i3nUYgQ4mC8F4ShX3CaF9bOZldwszVgkGUL5JayZuLaYGz6BPlUIjZ7SOH8_xg36VENGRzYcEB/s1600-h/ButterflyOrchids4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgepI5ucpT-H77hqrVA0vjddQEkywEge_IrDirFY184yLTicNYHttGCRgKIToQ55rVWl1i3nUYgQ4mC8F4ShX3CaF9bOZldwszVgkGUL5JayZuLaYGz6BPlUIjZ7SOH8_xg36VENGRzYcEB/s400/ButterflyOrchids4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053987067641189570" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Butterfly Orchid<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRzI1w-9qh2OCnWJkjrmF_OHEt4bXR_rVgW824VHVdNxgG9JzJc4UTVrB8u8LH9ZTxtwLnvBxkzJISV797ZIs_4O1-hWG9bjTMhm-M84gLSqD0b_Ns1l6u_ctUj1ob2Mxb73ZN7c8gCEE/s1600-h/Pyramid2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIRzI1w-9qh2OCnWJkjrmF_OHEt4bXR_rVgW824VHVdNxgG9JzJc4UTVrB8u8LH9ZTxtwLnvBxkzJISV797ZIs_4O1-hWG9bjTMhm-M84gLSqD0b_Ns1l6u_ctUj1ob2Mxb73ZN7c8gCEE/s400/Pyramid2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053986719748838578" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Pyramid Orchid<br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjGMomAFAee8IdOJDmO-TdRfSwfoAY-LFQN5suAexy636wrXn4zCpeHRlD2dQWZq5ujAVj05D2aes5_KEE6Lm0UpTv7T_ynLTGtEzS9JoJrjpj8-O2bLFXVNlXHBXX3mIN4jVi7w_q9xr8/s1600-h/Orchid2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjGMomAFAee8IdOJDmO-TdRfSwfoAY-LFQN5suAexy636wrXn4zCpeHRlD2dQWZq5ujAVj05D2aes5_KEE6Lm0UpTv7T_ynLTGtEzS9JoJrjpj8-O2bLFXVNlXHBXX3mIN4jVi7w_q9xr8/s400/Orchid2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053986586604852386" border="0" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgZO4i9aln5xc9MYvKd4pPNZq6rMX-dXeUds9OZ4tD4I3_YLFlVTBN9s4YVeeJgMgyV-b7yruPjMxwInd_5J3TSvSc15AK91p7D4S9j6DMS-TXoazf_-o6S5MuV5P2vMZ1-CmhUNIA8D-v/s1600-h/PurpleOrchid2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgZO4i9aln5xc9MYvKd4pPNZq6rMX-dXeUds9OZ4tD4I3_YLFlVTBN9s4YVeeJgMgyV-b7yruPjMxwInd_5J3TSvSc15AK91p7D4S9j6DMS-TXoazf_-o6S5MuV5P2vMZ1-CmhUNIA8D-v/s400/PurpleOrchid2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053986303137010834" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Serapias</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48NW7YcoB2MYDzGMZloa3h3S3GvWEpRPpg635UwyUHPDU0KTHuuX4Zqh2pkCA2rW_f5sciQdgoIRRogTwE7txb4hJ60oPmUmXbncysfSL1seNVtLacilVXJnIOnRb1rqaoT1JTf0kSSP5/s1600-h/SombreBee3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj48NW7YcoB2MYDzGMZloa3h3S3GvWEpRPpg635UwyUHPDU0KTHuuX4Zqh2pkCA2rW_f5sciQdgoIRRogTwE7txb4hJ60oPmUmXbncysfSL1seNVtLacilVXJnIOnRb1rqaoT1JTf0kSSP5/s400/SombreBee3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053989425578235170" border="0" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh5KbUJIh1mEP-CbDt0cLCdNn96Qm6Cr1UKKQvj-Ewbdz70B3bfyEUBMBUcTgym1IxsOENn_48GA1hfYfPLQjIx1uM0SLBY6diRIij26raqxIzMSVxW1-Xr6qj1kZnw3gqYKfm88RKyr9X/s1600-h/SombreBeeOrchid1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh5KbUJIh1mEP-CbDt0cLCdNn96Qm6Cr1UKKQvj-Ewbdz70B3bfyEUBMBUcTgym1IxsOENn_48GA1hfYfPLQjIx1uM0SLBY6diRIij26raqxIzMSVxW1-Xr6qj1kZnw3gqYKfm88RKyr9X/s400/SombreBeeOrchid1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053986019669169282" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Sombre Bee Orchids<br /></span></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZXz2JUueBzmfJFcTvh2lKGxHh3hIJ8-e-xD536i39r7Ewbi63I4VTvd5QzqiJcdb0RaaEXfMtrsZqPyCElYg-w29QwF4zq1rdLJ5fvRV8vINlM9_BGff84HeagpRGaTZYIxL90TMjArju/s1600-h/Yellowbeeorchid1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZXz2JUueBzmfJFcTvh2lKGxHh3hIJ8-e-xD536i39r7Ewbi63I4VTvd5QzqiJcdb0RaaEXfMtrsZqPyCElYg-w29QwF4zq1rdLJ5fvRV8vINlM9_BGff84HeagpRGaTZYIxL90TMjArju/s400/Yellowbeeorchid1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053985895115117682" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwioR4BtuUMqSiDhRS2tu3Gp8gJHGyR37IhGSzbzpCS2GU_Hx-8uIcKHse4_Oc93rkiyjoVRIl6mp2BZhMYIhrU8yqdINb_K19euhnK6B753srWBONX4QYd2FAgTewlcmZt3QaqDJGd5fs/s1600-h/YellowBeeOrchid2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwioR4BtuUMqSiDhRS2tu3Gp8gJHGyR37IhGSzbzpCS2GU_Hx-8uIcKHse4_Oc93rkiyjoVRIl6mp2BZhMYIhrU8yqdINb_K19euhnK6B753srWBONX4QYd2FAgTewlcmZt3QaqDJGd5fs/s400/YellowBeeOrchid2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053985590172439650" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Yellow Bee Orchids<br /></span></div><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family:arial;">I not certain that the pyramid and serapias orchids are correctly identified. If anyone more knowledgeable can enlighten me, please do.<br /></span></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-81997134801513242002007-04-02T19:03:00.000+00:002007-04-02T19:35:12.209+00:00Prague Snapshots<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWUBZ2HHb8AQtIAk57ZbBbylXTtUt3W300_vadPMa7dPwKtM28KU7Pc9mHzO6tkp7dABsFqKXRzinVckAiFpyPeeAn4hnctkmBiSSmf37m98rOMtKQ2Y8wdBX63zPwwhBh4cfhqBUFmk4/s1600-h/Prague58.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghWUBZ2HHb8AQtIAk57ZbBbylXTtUt3W300_vadPMa7dPwKtM28KU7Pc9mHzO6tkp7dABsFqKXRzinVckAiFpyPeeAn4hnctkmBiSSmf37m98rOMtKQ2Y8wdBX63zPwwhBh4cfhqBUFmk4/s400/Prague58.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048915650406102706" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: arial;">The Hanavsky Pavilion, Letna park<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6R88VB53RUQBCMArFANyf891R0antt22blrj6JkMgXEJSANQ6uV2PmbJewyMZOMYttm-MG4Bva7ufKcgN4VGGNooxkMGttKMw6DpZ9fytE7MEmMrGQBtF0gkJQYhFOCfVByOoU6yRtOS/s1600-h/Prague9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjs6R88VB53RUQBCMArFANyf891R0antt22blrj6JkMgXEJSANQ6uV2PmbJewyMZOMYttm-MG4Bva7ufKcgN4VGGNooxkMGttKMw6DpZ9fytE7MEmMrGQBtF0gkJQYhFOCfVByOoU6yRtOS/s400/Prague9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048915328283555490" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">The Entrance to Charles Bridge<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz03W2JkXxwTgD8hiFhUQ4NXqa2u-sQ3jiF0aGszJIBdtkozKPBrVC4L40dg1uq6HSttOFvDvs3jAQJ4tKkT92QrDPtOA9KFbWiv0DKLyASc9X6u00wRPU6RT_rvr17pYZpmdPohR1em6h/s1600-h/Prague64.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz03W2JkXxwTgD8hiFhUQ4NXqa2u-sQ3jiF0aGszJIBdtkozKPBrVC4L40dg1uq6HSttOFvDvs3jAQJ4tKkT92QrDPtOA9KFbWiv0DKLyASc9X6u00wRPU6RT_rvr17pYZpmdPohR1em6h/s400/Prague64.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048914980391204498" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Stained glass in the entrance to the Municipal Building<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_054w0-2O4mUZHKoxW-qWjjU7MoJAm5ySuAxAclGRL-zoZtpFnwN9ZVrEsRH0hcUeXXc2ONooJo3JB7PKf8yFrXkJZUM6iGvAyqE7nB73KBekKiSshjlVMOxrab76WKUFmc6TwqlV4krj/s1600-h/Facades.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_054w0-2O4mUZHKoxW-qWjjU7MoJAm5ySuAxAclGRL-zoZtpFnwN9ZVrEsRH0hcUeXXc2ONooJo3JB7PKf8yFrXkJZUM6iGvAyqE7nB73KBekKiSshjlVMOxrab76WKUFmc6TwqlV4krj/s400/Facades.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048914731283101314" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Facades</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKl7xZ2PPpP6dSmxPr_BYzlJsKaZzAa0wOOD7atFnFXuwja7pwVkACszSinaVh22GnJ2F8ms0E7wvAOgNKTeFVDZPuq_2nVETIiGHhV1qW0CpjwiQDVHF9MfREoJaug7ARBpr7nkrIFiAP/s1600-h/mod+gallery.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKl7xZ2PPpP6dSmxPr_BYzlJsKaZzAa0wOOD7atFnFXuwja7pwVkACszSinaVh22GnJ2F8ms0E7wvAOgNKTeFVDZPuq_2nVETIiGHhV1qW0CpjwiQDVHF9MfREoJaug7ARBpr7nkrIFiAP/s400/mod+gallery.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048914473585063538" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Gallery of Modern Art<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JO_6CUKHsir8zCgguUAfHKDNvhspMRjlm_7uljqPs114pzhxLyDFDuPMCKL39kFuumD7zeMszD3wCvR5WjzbOlr4vQiiaZzHcriALgZvDkOHkVP8H-Oygpi3BDfPRsgowxFtFzXhndhO/s1600-h/Puppets.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0JO_6CUKHsir8zCgguUAfHKDNvhspMRjlm_7uljqPs114pzhxLyDFDuPMCKL39kFuumD7zeMszD3wCvR5WjzbOlr4vQiiaZzHcriALgZvDkOHkVP8H-Oygpi3BDfPRsgowxFtFzXhndhO/s400/Puppets.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048914203002123874" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Puppet Shop<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRU2x2kp5EjWcb4MnUD2F3aeBwHUDivYI9e73FF119LXWaA8oHBMhc7wSmWfGUEfOBWxiLuAL2mAu9is6aPhBL8dMYb5oovrw1PyoIWyNeKBrPZdkyjKnxq1IKDIHH4QFgdOPlIpPGiS2N/s1600-h/Synagogue.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRU2x2kp5EjWcb4MnUD2F3aeBwHUDivYI9e73FF119LXWaA8oHBMhc7wSmWfGUEfOBWxiLuAL2mAu9is6aPhBL8dMYb5oovrw1PyoIWyNeKBrPZdkyjKnxq1IKDIHH4QFgdOPlIpPGiS2N/s400/Synagogue.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048913889469511250" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Alhambra meets Disneyland Synagogue<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFZPx_SDd-lrnPJupIQWhoJ3T-AJmEi-eYWadZfqyx-Ms9HYwmk5hMAUs3HLnZtGMnb71_MdIcXeNit0SRjpTTWHyOvdNtJcA6VPVD4ZL_E9GnIcSUYGbhll7UGBAP0Ymq0vEc80rpItbg/s1600-h/Prague59.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFZPx_SDd-lrnPJupIQWhoJ3T-AJmEi-eYWadZfqyx-Ms9HYwmk5hMAUs3HLnZtGMnb71_MdIcXeNit0SRjpTTWHyOvdNtJcA6VPVD4ZL_E9GnIcSUYGbhll7UGBAP0Ymq0vEc80rpItbg/s400/Prague59.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048913614591604290" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Heroic Workers<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_gmiB_wJt8yj5-cxkRHyic2GG-QNum17CmM9yNUQ0xtDGNVIHpwyaUUMOG3Rl2OSgPPDUSOunupcPBtPJ6R7l5PQa7aJxQYEeZvFzmVLQ0mL3HF1F3yL31nBmIcM-2685VSq5CwxSr62/s1600-h/Kampa1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9_gmiB_wJt8yj5-cxkRHyic2GG-QNum17CmM9yNUQ0xtDGNVIHpwyaUUMOG3Rl2OSgPPDUSOunupcPBtPJ6R7l5PQa7aJxQYEeZvFzmVLQ0mL3HF1F3yL31nBmIcM-2685VSq5CwxSr62/s400/Kampa1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048913344008664626" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Kampa Gallery<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV2QoqKMdmHoPdennwWzs913Vj1SlD3Q88_A2xY-BAvr5Gk51uBSD7Uba4qy5vcNBqcl_knT5luiKDiS_nap7WsTfi52YC3rA5_kdJBDsy-ZciPg0LZjKTnY1x-MkOXH6TqB__0ofODIP4/s1600-h/Kampa2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjV2QoqKMdmHoPdennwWzs913Vj1SlD3Q88_A2xY-BAvr5Gk51uBSD7Uba4qy5vcNBqcl_knT5luiKDiS_nap7WsTfi52YC3rA5_kdJBDsy-ZciPg0LZjKTnY1x-MkOXH6TqB__0ofODIP4/s400/Kampa2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048912948871673378" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Sculpture outside Kampa gallery with piece in Gallery window inset<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7lF-HeVJ9os4Q6iIdajISQmOWo7D2FFgXS3ywtPhRKrNjtvlcXBeM5V1o_VV2gnw1Zjr6HXr8ASRCvx1ZhOigSkO81TuVUyyjWU22sJmeq5pvSOD6-8AlZoK6iIUNMOe8cUaDfUBhkeIR/s1600-h/Cubist.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7lF-HeVJ9os4Q6iIdajISQmOWo7D2FFgXS3ywtPhRKrNjtvlcXBeM5V1o_VV2gnw1Zjr6HXr8ASRCvx1ZhOigSkO81TuVUyyjWU22sJmeq5pvSOD6-8AlZoK6iIUNMOe8cUaDfUBhkeIR/s400/Cubist.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048911836475143698" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;"><span style="font-family:arial;">Cubist Architecture<br />Top: House with Cubist Lampost inset<br />Middle: Cubist Apartment Building<br />Bottom: Bank Legii with Sculpture by Otto Gutfreund<br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTzaCnF0UgDxgCT7A-ooos8btQQQEM7jdk6XhiLGVwga6VOfEPVYhZuP2G1qg7sy97J2jk7LLmuR9mGgWoIzOjWSBwJuMvVUjttMc01aU895I2aOyYQfaVBRjZEDcx7Xe8-Vt1wrLXzA_y/s1600-h/Ivana's.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTzaCnF0UgDxgCT7A-ooos8btQQQEM7jdk6XhiLGVwga6VOfEPVYhZuP2G1qg7sy97J2jk7LLmuR9mGgWoIzOjWSBwJuMvVUjttMc01aU895I2aOyYQfaVBRjZEDcx7Xe8-Vt1wrLXzA_y/s400/Ivana's.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048911394093512194" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Ivana's Garden</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3tM0YnydU4SCrvFbLjSHfDenkVOhW4k6q7g_4FUF3JdqJaYMULCb3IScuV2DaFL39X__iiv_HxL5B_qyDqrePUlZ4_0b0agsLZsqIVQETeV-F5tIwMyVDEBZViTgf1Pk7Xd0wolOvE49g/s1600-h/factories.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3tM0YnydU4SCrvFbLjSHfDenkVOhW4k6q7g_4FUF3JdqJaYMULCb3IScuV2DaFL39X__iiv_HxL5B_qyDqrePUlZ4_0b0agsLZsqIVQETeV-F5tIwMyVDEBZViTgf1Pk7Xd0wolOvE49g/s400/factories.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048910943121946098" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Dead Industry<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYK23kCouePBoyZXq7hETAVu4cTI0iDoS2EwoRyx_UIOTTkPtKBL_HaBZxvk_4w9gJY3aeKw2UIrxVflRj5789FPJJPHoQWDYKIj9nPv8xG1ObMJPbJnXlGfPRteHeA6nMZ3TgUt9RmDZ/s1600-h/Kafka.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKYK23kCouePBoyZXq7hETAVu4cTI0iDoS2EwoRyx_UIOTTkPtKBL_HaBZxvk_4w9gJY3aeKw2UIrxVflRj5789FPJJPHoQWDYKIj9nPv8xG1ObMJPbJnXlGfPRteHeA6nMZ3TgUt9RmDZ/s400/Kafka.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048910470675543522" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Kafka</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAn7ItE-aLs4dpPNR8OAB4VY2cYZKlKM5rPKL3pzK1Izc5LoFPWTAiqr9OQ1XQ4lo7ic57tWQU0od9lHZ8IEo71rmu-jOtF7pOZsfjJh7ODWTuFHEF6sQyWiY3UKKv5hTubogqClaFw9gl/s1600-h/Castle4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAn7ItE-aLs4dpPNR8OAB4VY2cYZKlKM5rPKL3pzK1Izc5LoFPWTAiqr9OQ1XQ4lo7ic57tWQU0od9lHZ8IEo71rmu-jOtF7pOZsfjJh7ODWTuFHEF6sQyWiY3UKKv5hTubogqClaFw9gl/s400/Castle4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048910011114042834" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">Old and New Street Furnture<br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1aUfwqfUhz5LQqs5eyOP3KIOrOMiXurwfku8sOL5aannxUBCzNataISiaTPXtRKyPb0odXOvwhsZphYEbxjfEvpnHpgCuzOhf9xbqL095KD6MBpZLZk3olsWRMS5cBgAqbqUu-8IRXPTG/s1600-h/Ads.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1aUfwqfUhz5LQqs5eyOP3KIOrOMiXurwfku8sOL5aannxUBCzNataISiaTPXtRKyPb0odXOvwhsZphYEbxjfEvpnHpgCuzOhf9xbqL095KD6MBpZLZk3olsWRMS5cBgAqbqUu-8IRXPTG/s400/Ads.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5048908868652742050" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:arial;">The rise of capitalism<br /></span></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-42549592086361436872007-03-29T17:15:00.000+00:002007-03-29T17:57:51.987+00:00Check the Czech CubismoConcerned about the somewhat inadequate size of our carbon footprint in comparison, say, to Prince Charles, we plant three apples trees in the back garden and fly to Prague. This costs the princely sum of £7.98 each plus taxes, round trip. We have a charming little detached house. The cliff of a sandstone quarry soars behind it, fading into a wooded hillside that forms a small park. The house is within easy walking distance of the city centre and we have it for six nights giving us five whole days to do the town.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08fSX7wBG4eWmyFr4z7l9UaKyGoq0QVrqSxAsgSoQnfzZI23PS45vRvfAKrbdWYXZFqvBtxU9qM_q1KUkGwi64nGvxlhODYRBHJfW-E00HO70ZS7R3J0-Q-TRE6HtZeKwczjtFKcCA8Vi/s1600-h/Ivanas8.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047398212690621682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg08fSX7wBG4eWmyFr4z7l9UaKyGoq0QVrqSxAsgSoQnfzZI23PS45vRvfAKrbdWYXZFqvBtxU9qM_q1KUkGwi64nGvxlhODYRBHJfW-E00HO70ZS7R3J0-Q-TRE6HtZeKwczjtFKcCA8Vi/s400/Ivanas8.jpg" border="0" /></a> <b>Day one</b> is spent on the castle and St. Vitus Cathedral which features great gargoyles and stained glass. You can wander through the courtyards and in to the entrance of the church for free but the bits of the castle and the galleries cost a tenner and are not worth it to my mind, Even on a cold day in March the whole complex is a tourist machine, tourist hoards disembarking from one coach after another. The ticket gives you access to two galleries of baroque art, the paintings in which are mostly mediocre and in need of a good clean. The collection was rifled of its best pieces, though there is a Cranach and a large Reubens. His overweight, pinkly glowing women and cherubs strewn around the canvas don’t do much for me however. There is also entrance to a street of small houses that used to service the castle’s needs. These have been restored and turned into a Disneyland style shopping strip flogging tourist tat. You can also visit some castle apartments and a museum that recounts the castle’s history. The day goes a little further downhill when an irate steward shouts at me for taking a picture of an enormous tiled stove. This was part of the castle’s heating system, cunningly designed so that all the coals and ashes are serviced from another room so ‘their majesties’ would not be inconvenienced by dust and smoke. <p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Lunch makes things worse, tepid soup followed by scraps of meat floating in gravy, accompanied by three dumplings and served by a sullen waitress. It’s slightly redeemed by a small slice of rather nice strudel but brought down again by a bill that has been pumped up with hidden charges. I’m distinctly grumpy and starting to wonder what I am doing here.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI-buLmn1uGd-TSPJJSpWaV0MlnVIO70ATYbT6rFaYlLYtnB_1_rmHAjgvjJhQNWMAlozPH0V9LVFcgaZaYI1uvIHnO2hv6-4TCTtCQk2ohFegd5arRapDgHfY9mAYzO3Jhbu1wigQTK8z/s1600-h/Prague34.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047396799646381266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI-buLmn1uGd-TSPJJSpWaV0MlnVIO70ATYbT6rFaYlLYtnB_1_rmHAjgvjJhQNWMAlozPH0V9LVFcgaZaYI1uvIHnO2hv6-4TCTtCQk2ohFegd5arRapDgHfY9mAYzO3Jhbu1wigQTK8z/s400/Prague34.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><b>Day two </b>takes a distinct turn for the better though.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>We stroll in to town and visit the Kampa Museum of Modern Art. It’s an old converted mill set on an island on the river Vltava. As well as modern art by living Czech artists the gallery has a collection of paintings by Frantisek Kupka, 1871–1957, a pioneer of abstract art and some very nice sculptures by Otto Gutfreund, 1889-1927. He was a cubist, who took the ideas of Picasso epitomised in his bronze of ‘A head of a woman. Fernande’ (a cast of which is there) and ran with them. Sadly Otto’s life was cut short at the age of 38, when he drowned swimming in the river off nearby Shooters Island. The gallery has hardly any visitors and we can browse through the rooms virtually undisturbed.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsEeox6aPSdR9bfS5v3Ac65xaOC7SbrJmcAtjNPUvYHe1SmmfqjTAOGS41RiBc5Pczd58jjQeAjM-4OHbinyrE6EYhK_DVqIzd0DUGkMyV11x_gfwgesIxl4LfPRYj6PyBE6TuKGF5uXEM/s1600-h/Prague5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047403018759026066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsEeox6aPSdR9bfS5v3Ac65xaOC7SbrJmcAtjNPUvYHe1SmmfqjTAOGS41RiBc5Pczd58jjQeAjM-4OHbinyrE6EYhK_DVqIzd0DUGkMyV11x_gfwgesIxl4LfPRYj6PyBE6TuKGF5uXEM/s400/Prague5.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">We follow this by crossing the river and in to the old town. The Charles Bridge and the main streets, especially by the famous clock are overrun with tourist hoards but just back from them all is tranquillity. We lunch and somehow I end up with meat and four dumplings this time. But the meat is plentiful, the sauce is interesting, the soup tepid and we get a good measure of beer, the waitress is friendly and welcoming and the bill is very reasonable.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">In the afternoon we manage to coincide with an odd musical experience. Only on Tuesday afternoons between 1 and 6 pm is it possible to visit the Pamatnik Jaroslav Jezeka, a branch of Prague Museum. It is one room in the flat of the composer Jaroslav Jezek, 1906-42. We ring the bell and are met by a nice lady who escorts us up the stairs to a small room half filled by a piano. She gives us a brief talk, then asks if we mind being joined by some others who have booked to come but arrived early.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>We are joined by a group of old ladies, fans I guess, and after they get the talk in Czech we listen to some music on a cassette player. The first tune, a ragtime number, is the best. We pay our 25p admission and leave. A real bargain.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><b>Day three </b>we head for pastures new, going north of the castle and the river to walk through the Letna Park where the Stalin monument, the largest in the world, used to be. It was a 30 metre high granite sculpture of the people being led to communism by a pied piper Stalin. It stood for seven years before being blown to smithereens in 1962 after Khrushchev denounced Stalin. The platform, steps and entrance to the nuclear bunker underneath it are now graffiti covered and a giant metronome now stands on the top.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihSTKIj3mtFv5zhQXC6aypWjUyJoMBTEq7MJx2TFzeokQPFS0Rj0IzO1rWoRZ5-k07o_NAcmBahya_zuiEHIDJr-K3VWgm_8wxXf5Inqd-9h_ChwcwKRAuLep6LyYRQwwbwlrkOid75AH_/s1600-h/Bunker.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047397491136115938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihSTKIj3mtFv5zhQXC6aypWjUyJoMBTEq7MJx2TFzeokQPFS0Rj0IzO1rWoRZ5-k07o_NAcmBahya_zuiEHIDJr-K3VWgm_8wxXf5Inqd-9h_ChwcwKRAuLep6LyYRQwwbwlrkOid75AH_/s400/Bunker.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Onwards to the Trade Fair Palace, one wing of which houses Prague’s Gallery of Modern Art. We enter the enormous atrium and take the glass lift to the fifth floor, which is empty, but the only place the lift goes to. The four floors below contain a large collection of art from the nineteenth century to the present day. We do the lot, though each floor is worth a day in itself to do the art justice.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">There is plenty of Czech art here including Otto and his fellow cubist contemporaries, plus a complete who’s who of European art. Halfway through we break for hot chocolate laced with cream and cakes in the incredibly cheap restaurant and return there for lunch.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Yes it is tepid soup (I’m getting the message now) and meat, spinach and five dumplings. I do justice to the meat but cannot manage much of the spinach, which has a strange porky taste and has been boiled to death, in a fashion reminiscent of school dinners. I cope with half the dumplings although I’m beginning to think that a holiday here could seriously shorten my life. We stagger out culturally and culinarily saturated to wander around looking at more beautiful buildings and in search of a cubist lamppost.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqX3EgWy6QJjCn_SKn2cdYeMwN-Mf_wTd3QqRaodktKWQfFePtwqkPtWdV_1OPVc4Vg0PweF6L0J-8IMsgfTKrCwivjL9aZKGmZe4Xg0dFN-k7b_aaRg9sYwijYn2A-5V1lDhlKbVryeUu/s1600-h/Prague19.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047398607827612930" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqX3EgWy6QJjCn_SKn2cdYeMwN-Mf_wTd3QqRaodktKWQfFePtwqkPtWdV_1OPVc4Vg0PweF6L0J-8IMsgfTKrCwivjL9aZKGmZe4Xg0dFN-k7b_aaRg9sYwijYn2A-5V1lDhlKbVryeUu/s400/Prague19.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><b>Day four </b>we walk over the wooded hillside of Petrin and spot red squirrels as we climb to the top where there is a miniature Eiffel Tower, a hall of mirrors, an observatory and the twelve stations of the cross amongst other delights. All are closed as the funicular railway is out of action. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qCC3MycZuz29cSUR9Ib_PbV0NZXrNKucpjYtrQT-Nr0cDlfAsVwllK3vxhmCHXow9aUuVn29lP8nChug87i8fXB1M72eOWBMQLFqgknzeN6IITVkjaaeUlgMA8oemw-meIjkCTn1574-/s1600-h/Tower1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047399196238132498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qCC3MycZuz29cSUR9Ib_PbV0NZXrNKucpjYtrQT-Nr0cDlfAsVwllK3vxhmCHXow9aUuVn29lP8nChug87i8fXB1M72eOWBMQLFqgknzeN6IITVkjaaeUlgMA8oemw-meIjkCTn1574-/s400/Tower1.jpg" border="0" /></a>Winding down the hillside we reach the river and follow it south past the ‘Dancing House’ a wonderful bendy building designed by Frank Gehry and Vlado Milunic. It’s an elegant demonstration of radical new design fusing with the old.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSRnX2EUD28_AxDlxmPWRON20leawfJ222jsCD2OBNH7NrEf_7noiQ_U_GiIHH6HHM2UyyoNsRJdyCA-ExpaLUDmbswZ391qPUc5v3b4VVI4IaZPdbSJq9ZTVEMIgMhl0G50EigluB-S9/s1600-h/Dancer3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047399836188259618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrSRnX2EUD28_AxDlxmPWRON20leawfJ222jsCD2OBNH7NrEf_7noiQ_U_GiIHH6HHM2UyyoNsRJdyCA-ExpaLUDmbswZ391qPUc5v3b4VVI4IaZPdbSJq9ZTVEMIgMhl0G50EigluB-S9/s400/Dancer3.jpg" border="0" /></a> We continue south and seek out some cubist houses. (Before visiting Prague I was unaware that cubist architecture existed) They are quite restrained really.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFJjvqiZSdpsjdNptEGFYyd3om0k8Tv99tBQi4Mu_5w3zupnZ-wLSIeqWpZ9Sg4GuhFBL0naoRKueSx8dsAnLtRbcwn6u5XS6YKQfd-bhaw5UnNqsznOkkyD06cenC_2uX12yv9PzhOTH/s1600-h/Cubist2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047402391693800818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFJjvqiZSdpsjdNptEGFYyd3om0k8Tv99tBQi4Mu_5w3zupnZ-wLSIeqWpZ9Sg4GuhFBL0naoRKueSx8dsAnLtRbcwn6u5XS6YKQfd-bhaw5UnNqsznOkkyD06cenC_2uX12yv9PzhOTH/s400/Cubist2.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Up above is the massive fortress of Vysehrad. Massive brick and sandstone walls encase the hillside. We climb a steep path up and follow the top of the wall round. To the north are panoramic views over the city and river which winds past and heads away to the south. Within the walls are a few buildings including a church and a fantastic cemetery where the great and good of Prague were interred. Many of the graves have sculptures on them, hands, a steel spider’s web and busty women. One has a slim life-sized female spirit, only one foot still touching the grave as she ascends skyward.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyY-E6Qfu_LtiF0k6ipEfiGn1xh4ZmyZKGWq0m5Ie7vRR90ezeNUYIi3XHrIUgbcC5CI32-akLDCBWCdliRYk1HOXfcH7p8xJ_TOqIBnlscE1CBoU125A9SePp4TcoyAubJeidy4hhXZ9/s1600-h/Headstones.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047400282864858418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJyY-E6Qfu_LtiF0k6ipEfiGn1xh4ZmyZKGWq0m5Ie7vRR90ezeNUYIi3XHrIUgbcC5CI32-akLDCBWCdliRYk1HOXfcH7p8xJ_TOqIBnlscE1CBoU125A9SePp4TcoyAubJeidy4hhXZ9/s400/Headstones.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">We are quite chilly now and go in search of warmth. The art gallery, despite a sign outside saying open and having all its lights on, is firmly locked. We decide on a tour of the dungeons. We enter a small museum where we meet a very nice old lady who will be our guide. She locks the museum and takes us down to another door and lets us in. We are in a narrow passageway with an arched roof about two metres high that is running parallel, underground, at the base of the huge retaining wall. Our guide switches on the lights and leads us, turning a couple of corners, along 300 metres of corridor to a huge black space. “Don’t be afraid” she says “Go in.” As we step forward she switches the lights on to reveal an enormous brick built room with a collection of large statues in it. These are some of the original statues from the Charles Bridge. They are carved in soft sandstone that does not weather well and the originals on the bridge are being replaced with copies. It is a perfect place to store them as the temperature remains low but above freezing and is constant all year round. Its original purpose was as a barracks for soldiers, when the space was divided into three stories and the ledges for the floor carriers can still be seen. Prior to the statues arrival it was used to store Prague’s potato crop. The passageway goes on for another kilometre tracing the inside of the castle walls, but we are allowed no further.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">We return to the light of day and descend the hill in search of food and find a pub. After some discussion I order beer and trout and chips. There is some confusion about whether it is cooked in batter or butter. It turns out to be butter and is delicious, with not a dumpling in sight</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><b>Day five </b>we decide to roam around and do some of the bits we missed. We take more or less the same route as day three to start with, going through the Letna Park, but this time on a lower path close to the river. We have to go further than planned as the bridge we were aiming to cross is closed for repairs. This messes up the order of J’s carefully planned itinerary but we get to go past a huge slab of soviet style architecture with statues of heroic workers above the entrance portal. We enter the city via the workers bridge and the six-lane highway they hacked through Prague. Getting off this as quickly as possible we go in search of a feast of Art Nouveau, Art Deco and Cubist buildings.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YNXUqaxfywXTtPh86G1zRncUy3xKumkMDOKE68ZTXv40OMuphhmMbE8iZQIGuGiACVbpLVIi_XjRt4FbqJFgWtZMsPFcEn3j4rqqwp2itgeZGjLlYqaxdxPPhn8oDeHbYhNFjBuLHbLL/s1600-h/Prague63.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047401541290276178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-YNXUqaxfywXTtPh86G1zRncUy3xKumkMDOKE68ZTXv40OMuphhmMbE8iZQIGuGiACVbpLVIi_XjRt4FbqJFgWtZMsPFcEn3j4rqqwp2itgeZGjLlYqaxdxPPhn8oDeHbYhNFjBuLHbLL/s400/Prague63.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Highlights include Obecni Dum (Municipal House) an extraordinary Art Nouveau confection with stained glass in the portico and extravagant decoration inside and out. Although some of the details have elegant simplicity, such as the lighting in the basement foyer, which has rows of pearl light bulbs in plain brass fittings, suspended in lines by thin wires. We sample hot chocolate with raspberry and cream cheesecake, having been cheated out of sitting under the fantastic tiled ceiling in the Café Imperial, as it is being renovated. Opposite the café is the Banka Legii, a fabulous Cubist bank with a frieze by Otto Gutfreund depicting the Czech legions crossing of Siberia during the Russian Revolution. Close by is the Jubilejni Synagoga with a lurid Alhambra meets Art Nouveau façade.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0E9hADdzuuSFBCZdLJlnjm9wznuoDEGMd1VKigFhqV7SooWtgD3iaJFMmLTbVCX_a2q3M4i_iYGCZ52jk2l51iarR9dGoDh2EaIlfR4tz_DPPlxg9c5KET13vsrTZ3TH1t4YQv1-NFmr/s1600-h/Cubist11.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047400819735770434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ0E9hADdzuuSFBCZdLJlnjm9wznuoDEGMd1VKigFhqV7SooWtgD3iaJFMmLTbVCX_a2q3M4i_iYGCZ52jk2l51iarR9dGoDh2EaIlfR4tz_DPPlxg9c5KET13vsrTZ3TH1t4YQv1-NFmr/s400/Cubist11.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">More Cubist architecture at the Dum U Cerne Matky Bozi (The House at the Black Madonna), which was a department store, built by Josef Gocar. Aptly it now houses a gallery of Cubist art, design and furniture on three floors where we find our old friend Otto Gutfreund’s work again. On the ground floor a shop sells cubist ceramics and furniture at prices well beyond our pockets.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">Not far away is the Mucha Museum where we sit and watch a film of the artist’s life. He seems to have been a very nice man who evolved a very distinctive Art Nouveau style. His posters are instantly recognisable but also, unfortunately, very similar. His work suffers that common curse of the graphic artist; it is very much about surface. The women are beautiful, yet have no depth. They are pleasing but unreal.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">We check out a few more buildings, Prague has a superabundance of beautiful ones, then the rain arrives and we take refuge in a pub for glasses of Gambrinus beer and food. I have a pork steak garnished with slices of cheese together with chips and salad. Then it is time to turn in the direction of home.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify"><b>Some odds and sods</b>.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">The best places to eat seem to be pubs just off the tourist route. The food is good, plentiful and cheap and the beer is excellent.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">There are a few beggars around some of whom I found quite disturbing. They kneel down with their foreheads touching the ground and their arms stretched forward, holding a cup, in supplication. One was even doing this in the rain.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="TEXT-ALIGN: justify">The architecture in the city is astonishing with fine examples of many styles from the last eight hundred years or so. </p><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:12;">The city is interspersed with parks and very pleasant to walk around if you stay just off the tourist tracks. We walked about 115 kilometres in the five days we spent there</span>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-37736208731551363192007-03-28T17:58:00.000+00:002007-03-29T17:59:22.682+00:00Chill out Time<p class="MsoNormal"><b><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;">Sunday</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">So here I am o</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">n a mild summers evening, taking a break from the family, in my studio.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Yo</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">ung garlic and freshly picked courgettes sizzle away in a frying pan on the stove and I'm looking forward </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">to relaxing with a choice bottle of wine and a good book.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I wander across the small living room to the bedroom </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">and as I do the floor creaks in a way I've never heard before.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I do a little experimental jump to see if the joists ar</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">e flexing a bit and there is a horrendous crack and I'm falling.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>My brain g</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">oes into overdrive and time slows down.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>The whole corner of the room is going downward and as bookshelves</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">, tables and chairs slide towards me, the wall turns into a blur.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>The with a loud bang everything stops and</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"> I find myself lying on top of a workmate in the downstairs workshop.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Moment</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">s later my oak desk lands face down next to me.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I look around and find the entire living room</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"> around me.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I am surrounded and partly covered by a great smashed pile of it.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Above, the kitchen is still where it should</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"> be, as is the bedroom, though its chipboard floor now describes an alarming ar</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">c as the joists have come down with the floor carrier.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Only t</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">he tongue and groove joints are holding it together.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>In the quiet aftermath I hear th</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">e food frying away.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I turn my attention to myself.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I don't seem to have broken anything an</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">d I try to haul myself up, only to find my left foot is trapped under some bookshelve</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">s.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I push a small table and a beam to one side, but I'm still stuck.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Despite the fact th</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">at my arms and right leg are free I can get very little leverage on the pile o</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">f debris surrounding me.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I begin to worry a little now, as if I'm unable to get out and turn the cooker off, the food will</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"> eventually catch fire and possibly burn the place down and me with it.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I give another wriggle and the mobile pho</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">ne in my shorts makes a complaining beep.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Some hope there then, though with the doors locked, help will hav</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">e to smash its way in.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I push ineffectually at the shelves, then twist and wriggle aga</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">in.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Suddenly, miraculously I'm free.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>I rush upstairs and turn the cooker off. Then sweaty and trembling, I strip off </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">and examine my dusty battered body.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>Just bruises, cuts and grazes thank God, though some of them are going t</span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">o be bloody painful when the adrenalin wears off.<span style="font-size:+0;"> </span>With shaking fingers I find the </span><span lang="EN-US" style="font-family:Arial;font-size:10;">phone and key in J's number for rescue.</span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8NeVEeANBid1zO-lE5FxPZ9FtW7J_BH6AMJKd49pRb54A_RJlToOWeGJR7NQ44u1168g3naUFAOvstBOLIHoPUtoW-DTMvVlWZoePfQ9cksoy0Ep02qPxQsQn9rKN4KH_zcfFQFRlOILS/s1600-h/Hundred1.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047038234301674690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8NeVEeANBid1zO-lE5FxPZ9FtW7J_BH6AMJKd49pRb54A_RJlToOWeGJR7NQ44u1168g3naUFAOvstBOLIHoPUtoW-DTMvVlWZoePfQ9cksoy0Ep02qPxQsQn9rKN4KH_zcfFQFRlOILS/s400/Hundred1.JPG" border="0" /></a></p>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2391655064904295345.post-58523136990245568262007-03-04T17:09:00.000+00:002007-03-04T17:14:08.410+00:00March 3rd Eclipse<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC7wrk3q2At9byWczBef0h8QxioGvJZI0GiWoeVz8u9RtD9Yzk5VeDDj24DJS7ijRAf5vDOaAo7bWw4TULXYy3B6xGnXfSkqbmMgo7YY_lWTNdXSABVQfdYoUSYu7kqJwDpHYt9kNFrAus/s1600-h/Eclipse.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5038118010650416002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 174px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 447px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="435" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC7wrk3q2At9byWczBef0h8QxioGvJZI0GiWoeVz8u9RtD9Yzk5VeDDj24DJS7ijRAf5vDOaAo7bWw4TULXYy3B6xGnXfSkqbmMgo7YY_lWTNdXSABVQfdYoUSYu7kqJwDpHYt9kNFrAus/s400/Eclipse.jpg" width="174" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div>Grouserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13915608244192911753noreply@blogger.com0