Silent – except for the chattering of the monkeys and the soft plop of the menacing crocodile that glides from the riverbank into the water.
Debbie hosts this outlet for our six words here.
I think I’ve only taken on this challenge once before, maybe twice, but as I read more of the challenges I begin to think I should be taking part. So here goes, late Saturday afternoon instead of morning. Memo to self, must try and do better.
Cut Flowers, Central Heating, Don’t Agree.
Linked to Mind Over Memory who hosts this challenge.
First I offer you a real lion, the BIG DADDY Lion, the original MGM Lion.
Sorry. I know it isn’t a statue but I couldn’t resist this. I did start off with the bronze statue of the lion from the MGM Hotel in Las Vegas but I thought it paled beside the real thing so there you have it.
Now here are two sculpted Lions. The first one from Lucerne, Switzerland, was described by Mark Twain in his 1880 travelogue “A Tramp Abroad” as “The most mournful and moving piece of stone in the world”. A mortally wounded lion is carved into the wall of a sandstone quarry in the old part of the town, designed as a memorial to mercenary soldiers from central Switzerland who lost their lives defending the royal Tuileries and the family of Louis XVI in Paris in August 1792 during the French Revolution. Six hundred died in their defence and 140 more died afterwards.
The 6m x 10m long monument was designed by the Danish sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen and carved by German stonemason Lucas Ahorn out of the sandstone rock in 1820-21.
Next we move to Spain, to Cordoba where there are so many statues it is easy to miss this one, but he is part of the Triunfo de San Rafael column, the most elaborate of many devotional columns in Cordoba commemorating the town’s guardian angel. The column at the center of a scenic viewpoint was begun in 1765 and it was finally finished in 1871. He’s quite an ugly old lion but I feel sorry for him as he looks uncared for and few stop to admire him as they gaze upwards at the shiny figure of the saint or rush across the bridge to photograph the more famous Mesquita.
Dr. B has a new challenge this week – Sport. Below are my sportie images
The first two are from my friend Solange Hando, travel writer and trekker, who has covered most of Nepal and Bhutan and who can’t resist climbing a mountain if she sees one. I know, I’ve holidayed with her and waved her off many times as my energies don’t run as far as mountain-climbing.
The next photo shows a slower and more sedate form of sport, river fishing on the Guadalquivir River that flows through the heart of Seville, in Spain. There was often as many as 20 sitting along the banks of the river while just as many stopped to chat and pass the time of day.
Still in Seville, it is kayaking this time, and the second image is the same sport taking place in Syracuse in Sicily. Both are major cities and both support a large number of water-sports clubs.
Off to Thailand now for horse riding on the beach. A few of the beach hotels have recently opened stables where horses are kept for visitors to ride along the beach, very early in the morning or late in the evening as it is too hot for afternoon trotting – even in the water.
Still in Thailand, windsurfing is one of the coolest (in both senses of the word) and most enjoyable sports to be had on the water.
Along with windsurfing, para-gliding is popular in Thailand and I first encountered it there in the early 70’s, long before safety harnesses were thought of, never mind health and safety rules. I grow failt at the thought of the foolishness of it all, trusting myself to a harness into which I was strapped by someone whose language I didn’t understand and relying on his mate to catch me as I landed on the beach – if the boat maneuvered correctly. And my husband encouraged me! I have dark thoughts about that now. The quality of the first photo is pretty bad but I had to include it as this was Pattaya before it got its reputation for night-life of a certain kind. It was just beginning to attract the US servicemen on R&R from Vietnam, but was at that time, quite genuinely, a fishing village with, I think, about 5 hotels and we had one of our best holidays, ever, there.
And last, PELOTA, the Basque game of very fast handball. This is a Pelota Court but I never got a photograph here because the game is so fast and the atmosphere so tense that I couldn’t really take a camera out as it would have disturbed the onlookers. They were all locals as this was quite a small village and this was the main event of the week. If you are ever in an area in which it is played (mostly along the northern coast of Spain and in the Canaries), then do try and catch a game.
What could be more silent than the Quad at Eton on a Sunday when pupils and masters are in church?
Behind those windows, who knows?
Linked to Dr. B’s challenge at Dr. B’s Challenge your Camera.
The first bridge is over the Neretva River in Mostar (Bosnia & Herzegovina) and the crowds on the top of the bridge are there to watch the Red Bull diving championships. The divers leap from the top of the tower on the bridge into the water below where there are safety precautions in place in case of accidents.
Next bridge is, maybe cheating? It’s a bridge between two houses in Bruges, Belgium.
Next comes a bridge with love-locks, a custom which is now out of control in various countries with iron bridges as the weight of the locks is warping the ironwork and making them dangerous. This one crosses the Salzach river in Salzburg, Austria.
This one in Croatia in the Kikr National Park, one of the loveliest areas of that lovely country.
And finally, the Daddy of them all, Sur le Pont d’Avignon – The Bridge at Avignon.
Linked to CadyluckLeedy here
It’s hard to avoid guitar players in some towns in Spain but this one was actually pretty good and I did buy his CD which, surprise, surprise, actually sounded quite good when I played it at home.
These two little girls were actually Peruvian, on holiday in Spain (I had their father’s permission to photograph them). He told me they that they had bought the costumes in Seville and insisted on wearing them all the time. He was going to buy a Spanish guitar for himself, and his wife, at that moment, was shopping for a black mantilla!
Concrete Sculptures in Puerto de Rosario, Fuerteventura.