Showing posts with label Venice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Venice. Show all posts

Saturday, August 27, 2016

Cracked But Not Broken

THE EARTHQUAKE last Tuesday in Italy is yet another example of the fragility of existence.

I created digital art (left) for Earth Day and am re-posting it now, suspecting but not knowing to what degree humanity plays a role in agitating earthquake prone zones.

Warring factions disregard how interconnected the planet is and how exploding bombs in one area can destabilize the underground in another. In this age of conflicts, our earthly home can seem as breakable as an egg shell being tapped by a multitude of spoons. (Postscript September 3, 2016: See how fiddling beneath earth's crust to produce oil and gas also plays a role HERE.)

The loss of precious life, and the historic buildings that survived the ages yet now crumbled into ruins, is heartbreaking. A tourist in Italy once, I was awed by its beauty, historic importance and strong resilient people. May they find strength now and support from around the globe.

Later in the week I took a solitary walk through Kwomais Point Park in South Surrey to clear my thoughts. Birds were chirping in the forest and, for the moment, everything seemed right with this part of the world.

Boundary Bay is at the path's end. The sun brought sparkle to the water that recently changed from gray blue to greenish and more tropical aqua hues. Perhaps this has something to do with warmer sea temperatures and how algae is growing. You can read about it HERE.

A sweet lingering fragrance from a forgotten bouquet was at a railing overlooking the scenery. People like to get married at Kwomais Park this time of year and I wondered, since relationships can be fragile too, if the bride and groom together will find the integrity, compassion, humor and resiliency needed to withstand the challenges sure to come their way.

I visited Elgin Heritage Park with my husband at the end of the week. This was a great place to to see the seasonal changes. Summer is clearly on its way out and autumn is beginning.

A sailor who found no breeze to move his boat pedaled rather than paddled along the bordering Nicomekl River.

A spider caught in a sunbeam was rebuilding its web yet again.

Continuing our walk throughout the park it seemed to me that, yes, there are cracks in life but the spirit does not have to be broken.

Visit Postcards From Penelope Puddle to view more BC scenes.

To see more sights from around the globe visit OUR WORLD at the sidebar.

Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Saturday, August 1, 2015

Hot In Alaska, Pt 4: Margerie Glacier Interlude

SUMMONED early morning to the upper promenade deck, we bundled up like children prepared to brace against the chilly wind caused by the movement of our ship along the Gloomy Knob area of Glacier Bay National Park.

Clouds appeared on the horizon for the first time since our trip began. They brought a mystic mood to the mountain peaks that hovered in thin air.

I couldn't see it, but to one romantic traveler on board, the peaks looked like two lovebirds kissing.

We cruised the National Park passage to Margerie Glacier with a sense of reverence and great expectations. It was as if we were about to see a soon-to-be extinct species in a zoo. Oddly enough, I had a somewhat similar feeling when we approached Venice during another trip several years ago.

The glacier is said to be one-mile deep and 21 miles long. Its height is estimated at 350 feet. About 100 of those feet are under water.

Anticipating icy weather, most passengers put on their warmest clothing. The woman in pink to the right of my husband (in blue) was the one exception, revealing it was really not that cold at all.

The ship lingered when it reached the glacier. Back at our cabin we enjoyed a perfect view portside.

From the comfort of our open balcony we heard the roar and crackling sounds of ice breaking off the glacier. Pieces of the blue-hued mammoth mountain of ice disintegrated before our eyes.

It seemed as if the warmth of our breathing might hasten melting of the ice.

Seagulls in Alaska need no skates. They maneuvered over ice with such ease you would think they were strutting on a sandy beach floor.

Ice drizzled to the sea like confetti, creating great landing pads for birds. When clouds dissipated, the water mirrored the glacier's aqua blue shade.

This glacier is a ancient brew of rock and ice. Its tips are jagged and sharp ...

reminding me of the teeth of some mythical monster.

A cave-opening in the ice was twice the size by the time we left the glacier.

I took dozens of photos, none of which convey the breath of this natural wonder that is both powerful and frail. The glacier tells a fantastical tale about a world always transitioning and never standing still or frozen.

Our interlude with this receding mound of ice was awe-inspiring and (as a bonus) the mere act of looking at it did make us feel cooler despite the hot summer sun beating down on Alaska.

I was beginning to appreciate that had the weather been blustery, rainy and foggy, as it often is in these regions, we would not have enjoyed such a crystal clear unobstructed view.

Next stop Ketchikan where we embark on another tour.

(It should be noted that although I went all the way to Alaska to see glaciers, there are many more much closer to home in the southwest of British Columbia. I have not been there in years even though they are less than a two-hour’s drive from where I live. The mountainous region of Garibaldi Provincial Park has about 100 glaciers that are also receding.)

Links to each of my Hot In Alaska cruise posts are as follows:
Pt 1: Setting Off From Vancouver
Pt 2: Settling Into The Noordam, Melting In Juneau
Pt 3: Skagway & The Historic Route To The Yukon
Pt 4: Margerie Glacier Interlude
Pt 5: Picturesque Ketchikan
Pt 6: Sunrise To Remember
Pt 7: Service With A Smile

Visit Postcards From Penelope Puddle to view BC scenes.

To see more sights from around the globe visit OUR WORLD at the sidebar.

Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Sunday, March 16, 2014

A Literary Yarn Told With Old Lace

A FANCIFUL FABLE about a talented, but too trusting, lace-maker is a cautionary tale by English travel writer and blogger Jenny Woolf to illustrate how the creative endeavors of the ill-informed can be snatched away when ownership issues are buried in the complex details of a contract.

Jenny's literary yarn unfolded strand by strand and readers were invited to compose their own ending to The Story of Poor Little Red Shoes. I participated and to my utter amazement (because I never win anything) my name was randomly drawn and I won a prize.

The mystery gift that arrived in the mail was antique lace that I learned was likely over a century old and possibly belonged to Jenny's fondly regarded relative, Mabel, born in the very late 1800s.

I can easily envision the dainty detachable collar prettily embellishing her dresses like an elegant necklace. Perhaps each snowflake, petal and jewel shape was created by hand with hooked needles and silken thread but no one knows for sure. Machines were invented during the Industrial Revolution in Britain and mass production of lace was well underway by the mid 1800s.

The love of lace spread throughout the world and it became highly valued.

Although it is impossible to tell if the making and distribution of lace began in any particular place, it is often connected with the once thriving trading center of Venice.

When holidaying in Venice in 2010, I visited the Island of Burano where lace, historically coveted by the royal and wealthy, had in former times been intricately fashioned by local women who might have gotten the idea when patching up fishing nets.

It is a joy to have this treasure in my care. I first planned on an ornate frame with a plain background to feature the work. But an ornate design reminiscent of Mabel's era caught my eye and I liked how the multiple patterns integrated. Ghostly reflections in the glass made it difficult to photograph my prize that now sits snugly on the bookshelf alongside a doily crocheted by my mother.

Read Unfair-y Tale Concluded to find the true ending of Poor Little Red Shoes.

Visit Postcards From Penelope Puddle to view more BC scenes.

To see more sights from around the globe visit Our World at the sidebar.

Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

BCers Visit Italy, Switzerland & France; Pt 17: What I Did & Didn't Know On My Travels

MY WORLD is in BC as well as the places I travel. I needed a nudge to leave the comforts of home to visit Europe, particularly in these times of travel frustrations. My husband and I did our best to prepare for what awaited us in countries we never set foot in but felt we knew through books and media. There was much we didn’t know in hindsight, not only about the emotional experience but also about the small peculiarities.

There were a lot of firsts in Europe. We could not anticipate how seeing Venice for the first time would make us feel. As we sailed closer to the city seemingly suspended over water, we marveled at how ancient yet futuristic it appeared on the horizon. The crumbling magnificence of the Colosseum in Rome took our breath away. The perfection of David in Florence made history and art intertwine masterfully. Mona Lisa, a surprisingly “little” painting wrapped in mystery, almost brought me to tears. Perhaps it was the right mix of weather and mood, but it was surprisingly more heavenly on top of Mt. Pilatus in Switzerland than in any elaborate church we visited. (This was totally unexpected since I thought I didn’t like heights.) Picturing places didn't compare to soaking in the atmosphere with all five senses of sight, sound, smell, taste and touch.

When traveling to unfamiliar destinations, practical matters needed attention. We planned some things right. My cap, vest and big purse turned out to be good things to take on our trip. Since I'm prone to earaches, the red cap came in handy on a breezy October evening during a boat ride on the river Seine in Paris. My vest with its upper pockets was handy for glasses and for the ear pieces we required during guided tours. Since it didn’t have pockets on the inside, I wore a passport/money purse around my neck under the vest and a "dummy" purse (suggested by the travel agent) containing small change over my shoulder. A woman on our tour had a significant amount of cash stolen from her purse when on public transit. This can happen in any country.

The large purse I brought turned out to be a good idea since knapsacks needed to be stored upon entering many museums. I think this was less about potential threats and more about bulky knapsacks accidentally knocking into exhibits in crowded places. It was a nuisance for some who had to collect their knapsacks after a tour rather than simply exit the building. I'm not sure if men's shoulder bags (or purses) avoid storage. But this might be a solution.

We were glad the hotels booked by our bus tour company provided breakfast. Most included eggs, fruit salad, yogurt, croissants, oatmeal and other cereal as well as fresh fruit. I took an apple with me one morning to snack on during a long bus ride to a new location. I probably should have done this every morning because it was sometimes a while between stops.

Unlike on a cruise, luggage must be transported from bus to hotel at each new location. We thought smaller would be better but noticed other tourists had relatively large suitcases. Our tour director explained bigger pieces of luggage are less likely to get snatched while waiting to be moved from hotel doorways, lobbies and streets where the tour buses park.

I packed comfortable footwear with good support. This is essential since walking is the major activity on tours. Despite my sensible footwear, I managed to have a serious fall.

This quickly made me realize I should also have packed a greater variety of over-the-counter drugs for different aliments. Although I did bring a few things, I didn’t bring the right thing for swelling. Luckily, a fellow passenger offered me an appropriate and familiar brand.

I was surprised to find NO facecloths in our hotels in Italy or Switzerland. I didn’t pack any because I assumed they were common as towels in hotels. Hand towels were too large and awkward to wash my face with and I would have appreciated a lightweight cool facecloth to nurse my wounds after I fell.

On a boat ride in Lucerne, it was nice to see one of these (pictured above) since our tour director discouraged us from using a similar facility on the bus. This REALLY surprised me and is probably because emptying lavatory contents doesn't occur until the completion of a bus tour. Although travel tips suggest drinking lots of bottled water, I felt compelled to limit the intake of fluids while on the bus. In most tourist locations the restrooms had incredibly long waiting lines for women and short to non-existent lines for men. So to the ladies ... it might be wise to bring liners for undergarments just in case.

My husband made a couple of excellent purchases prior to the trip: a battery operated shaver that worked on four AA batteries that lasted the entire two weeks. He also purchased an electric plug adapter for charging the camera battery in hotel rooms. As it turned out, we didn’t need to take the electric hairdryer as one was provided in each of our hotels.

I should have brought a strap for my camera. I missed several good shots not wanting to hold it over water or edges of things. In fact, the camera did escape from my hands once ... and just missed falling into the water in Venice.

Speaking of "shots", I probably should have gotten a flu shot before my travels. There was a very sick little boy near me on the flight home. Whether I got his bug or caught it elsewhere, I was sick for weeks after getting home.

As I said in an earlier post, I was glad my husband wore a brightly colored jacket. I often wore a red sweater under my black vest. It is incredibly easy to get lost in the crowd. One person on our tour did wander away and was eventually found by her husband after a long and worrying search.

I realize now that although we wanted to be prepared, it is the "not knowing" that made our trip an adventure. New experiences, unexpected situations and different ways of doing even simple things like turning on a tap increased the fun. Bumbling through an unfamiliar language just to say “thank you” added humility, joy and laughter to our journey.


Below are links to my stories about Italy, Switzerland and France from the moment our trip began:

Pt 1: The Travel Agent In My World
Pt 2: The Lufthansa Plane That Wasn’t
Pt 3: Insight Vacation Bus Tours
Pt 4: Time Traveling In Rome
Pt 5: Watery Wonders In Rome & Venice
Pt 6: Fragile Enchantment In Venice
Pt 7: The Selling Of Saint Francis In Assisi
Pt 8: Spirit Of Opulence & Art At The Vatican
Pt 9: Graffiti Begs For Attention In Rome
Pt 10: Artistic Flourishes In Florence & Bologna
Pt 11: Sky High At The Eiffel Tower
Pt 12: Through The Looking Glass At Versailles
Pt 13: Art Decorates A Hill Over Paris
Pt 14: Mona Lisa's Million Dollar Smile
Pt 15: My World On Cloud Nine In Lucerne
Pt 16: My World Of Ups & Downs In Lucerne

Monday, December 20, 2010

BCers In Italy, Switzerland & France; Pt 12: Through The Looking Glass At Versailles

IN MY WORLD I've been thinking about the Lewis Carroll books and how our visit to the beautiful Palace of Versailles last October reminded me of a distorted version of the Alice stories.

It is an unexpected afterthought on my part. In truth, the opulence enjoyed by the royal family resulted in the tragic "off with her head" consquences for Marie Antoinette in 1793. Her husband Louis XVI had been executed months earlier during the French Revolution.

The clipped symmetrical trees ...

meticulous vast courtyards and ponds ...

reminded me of scenes surrounding the Queen of Hearts character.

Rows of figures looked like giant chess pieces reminiscent of the Red Queen.

Blooms past their seasonal prime were dug up. The last few (pictured above) might have objected if they could speak like the flowers did in Carroll's tale.

We saw traditional statuesque apparitions mostly of gods and goddesses.

But (as in Carroll books) unforeseen characters also appeared at the palace.

We had the rare opportunity to view historical art in juxtaposition to modern works. Japanese artist Takashi Murakami created a contemporary Oval Buddha. Although I have seen many concepts of buddha, this some 18 foot statue made of bronze and gold leaf is truly unique.

Nearby was an even more unique golden fence and gateway to the royals.

People were constantly in front of the ornate structure taking pictures so I captured only a portion of the entrance way not open to the public.

I took a peek before entering from another location near the gate.

There it was ... the chateau of Versailles that began as a hunting lodge and evolved into a residence and retreat from the main palace in Paris for generations of French kings.

This was the ideal setting from which royalty could overlook their impoverished countrymen and soak in the breathtaking countryside filled with game and ponds stocked with fish.

Although it wasn't quite like going down the "rabbit hole", there was the appearance of a Mad Hatter through the palace doors.

There was much controversy about having Murakami’s creations displayed temporarily at Versailles. Many locals considered the work insulting.

Nonetheless, the artist wanted to bridge historical art with popular culture.

Many were not convinced and felt much the way Alice did in the Wonderland book when she said, "I don't believe there's an atom of meaning in it."

There was unquestionable significance to the artistic expression (pictured above) that I believe is of Louis XVI. The misguided king went from a lavish lifestyle where aides chosen to monitor his bowel movements apparently felt honored to being despised and killed at the guillotine.

Such a horrific ending was likely not dreamed of when the royals slept in their luxurious beds.

What comforts elaborate fireplaces must have brought to hush their worried minds within cold palace walls.

It WAS like stepping Through The Looking Glass when entering the enormous passageway known as The Hall of Mirrors. The stunning construct within the palace began in 1678. It was built to magnify the power of the monarchy to other regions that might have been a threat.

Glass was extremely rare then. To showcase such a luxury item, Versailles sought the famous glass makers of Venice. Hopefully, the legend isn't true that the workmen who built the mirrored walls were killed to keep the art a secret. Despite the paradoxical lifestyles where the wealthy were seemingly blind to cruelty and poverty, Versailles stands alone as an incredible work of art. The glassy glitter of mirror and marble, the chandeliers and gilded statues all reflect a love of beauty so profound it is impossible NOT to carry a torch for the wonderland of Versailles.

Explorers can find more sites from around the globe at My World.

Visit Postcards From Penelope Puddle to view BC scenes.

Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms