Madeira Revisited 5

Tags

Cabo Girao, Châo da Ribeira, Encumeada, Fireworks, Funchal, Indian red admiral, laurel forest, laurisilva, levada, Madeira, Madeiran saxifrage, roseate tern, Sao Vicente, speckled wood

Madeira Revisited 5. I don’t know what the weather was like on the southern coast of the island on the Saturday, but for some of our varied experiences elsewhere on the Saturday it was cold and/or damp, though things did get better from time to time. There were several elements to this long day.  We were first taken to Cabo Girâo, the highest sea cliff in ‘Europe’. (Being Portuguese, Madeira counts as Europe, though geologically it is part of the African plate.) I had been here before, and ‘thrilled’ once more to standing on a glass platform with nothing below that.

Photo taken on previous visit

Then we moved on to Encumeada in the middle of the island (1007 metres/3303 feet), where the chill was really felt, especially as some of us had decided that we did not need to carry or wear as much weather protection as previously.  We had been warned, so had only ourselves to blame!  Anyway, we had a mile-long walk along a levada, the borders of which were not entirely by natural vegetation but included some attractive planting.  At the end of our walk was a tunnel, through which the levada continued, and along which we had been intended to walk, but I was glad that that thought had been abandoned – it would have meant uncomfortable bending over for 800 metres.  I did venture a very little way into it, and if this photo is viewed on a big enough screen, the light at the end of the tunnel can just be seen.

(Photo artificially over-exposed. It was really much darker than this.)

 

For some reason this cockerel was hanging around.

Back the mile to our minibuses, and we moved on to Sâo Vicente on the north coast.  My memory of this place in November 2016 was of a meal taken in a revolving restaurant.  This time our stop was for coffee, and then for a very short exploration of the local geology.  I nipped off at one point to buy some cherries from a stall, and when I rejoined the group they were all staring at the beach.  I could see a tern or to. And I liked these contrasting grey textures.  Only on looking more closely did I see that some of the stones were in fact terns, roseate terns I was informed. From here we were taken just a very short distance westwards, and deposited to walk along the old coastal road (closed to traffic) for about a mile.

I really would not have cared to have driven along that old road!

I really enjoyed this walk.  It was easy walking (as had the levada been), the sun was now out, and the plants growing on the vertical cliff wall were spectacular.  Two of us were ahead of the others, so we were the first to venture in to this tunnel, which we could see was dripping wet for the first and last several metres.  It was fun, once emerged from it, to see the others noticing the ‘hazard’ and then venturing in. 

Indian/Macaronesian Red Admiral

Speckled wood

From here we were taken via Seixal to Châo da Ribeira, where there were picnic benches. The sun had gone in again, and it was again a little chilly.  We were joined by 5 feral cats and a kitten, all very wary, but won over by gifts of ham and cheese.   From here we went for a short walk in the laurisilva, laurel forest, of which Madeira has the one of the few surviving remnants in ‘Europe’.  It once flourished around the Mediterranean, but the Ice Ages did for it nearly everywhere there. Our botanist leader was very excited at being in this rich and rare spot.  Lunch had been late, and we were running later.  We made just one more stop on the way back to the hotel, to see the rare Madeiran saxifrage.  Here it is: and here are some of us looking at it.  Another lovely dinner in a Funchal restaurant, another fitness session back up to the hotel. Then watching a fireworks display taking place back down in the harbour, an event which the town of Funchal lays on every Saturday evening in June.

 

Toulouse and Tarn 7

Tags

Albi, Albi Cathedral, Palais de la Berbie, Toulouse, Toulouse-Lautrec, Toulouse-Lautrec museum

Tuesday, Albi and Toulouse-Lautrec.  When I planned this trip I had no thoughts of spending any time in built-up areas, other than Toulouse.  I had already visited Albi in 1990, including the Toulouse-Lautrec museum, and I really had wanted to just relax in the countryside for the rest of my trip.  But clearly that was not on today.  The weather for forecast for Tuesday was the same as the day before, though thankfully a few degrees warmer and with less wind. My options were limited.  Spend all day tasting wine in the Gaillac area – bearing in mind that I was driving myself around, and travelling home by plane! – or a further visit to Albi.  Or stay at my lodging feeling cold and sorry for myself.

So Albi it was. In 1990 we had had no problems in parking, as best I recalled.  28 years later it was impossible.  I drove round and round the main city centre car park, and found nothing.  I drove round and round the streets nearby.  Nothing.  In due course, I found, some way away, a meter space, and at least it was for four hours, not one.  To get back to the centre of town fortunately I was able to see and make for the 78-metre/356 foot bell-tower of the immense cathedral. (I had only the sketchiest of maps, of just the very centre of the town.)

Next was the search for the tourist office, to buy a joint ticket for entry to part of the cathedral and the Toulouse-Lautrec museum.  Nothing signposted.  In due course I found a building on the cathedral square with an old panel saying ‘Syndicat d’Initiative‘, the old name for a tourist office, but the door was firmly shut with a notice saying the tourist office was now on the opposite side of the square.  I followed a young man who had read the same notice and was heading 180° away to where we had been facing. Nothing.  He asked a passer-by, and I listened in.

The tourist office was in fact only 90° from the old one, slightly round a corner – and hidden by a large white van. The very helpful young woman inside was patient as I prevaricated. To cut a long story short, time was running out on my meter, the museum would not open until 2 pm, and I just couldn’t work out what to do.  Having in due course bought the ticket, I went to have a much needed coffee (all these wanderings had been under drizzle), and decided to visit the Cathedral, have a bite of lunch, go to feed the meter, and then come back to do T-L.

The cathedral claims to be the biggest brick building in the world.  Perhaps it was my mood, certainly not helped by the dull weather, but I felt decidedly grumpy and unimpressed as I entered the cathedral, even if it was dedicated to St Cecilia, the modern-day patron saint of musicians.  I knew that the ticket I had bought would get me in to the ‘Grand Choeur‘, but the high altar seemed to be to my left as I walked in, whereas the layout of the building would lead me think it should be to the right.  No-one was checking my ticket either, which was puzzling.  Anyway, I did like this modern altar and lectern.  And I was impressed by the rood-screen behind me, of which this is just a segment.  Once I had the audioguide all became clear.  The west-facing worship is the result of the desire to save the very intricate and huge rood-screen, carved from a limestone which hardens over time. At the time when Catholic worship changed to include the congregation, not just the monks and priests, most rood-screens were destroyed. Here, however, they decided to turn worship round, and have the congregation facing west – most unusual. What I had seen already was not the Grand Choeur. My ticket was to get me into that – facing East – and the treasury, and supply the audioguide.  I visited the treasury first. This window on the way up the steep spiral staircase to get to it is a reminder that churches were fortified in those turbulent days of the bastides. Then I moved into the Great Choir itself, which was very ornate, a great contrast with the outside of the basilica.  On emerging from the cathedral into the wet again, I went back to the previous café for a bowl of soup, though on seeing the menu I had a very nice salad instead.  Clever clogs then thought she would try another, seemingly more pleasant, route back to the car to feed the meter.  And couldn’t find the car. Found herself outside the metered area, so knew she had gone too far.  Felt very frustrated, not yet despairing, but really didn’t want to go all the way back to the centre and out again.  Then….. I remembered that I had my satnav with me, and that I had registered on it where the car was parked!  Only three minutes’ walk away but I would never have known.

Having fed the meter, I headed back to the centre and the Toulouse-Lautrec museum. This was established by T-L’s mother, after her son’s early death, in the Palais de la Berbie, formerly the bishop’s palace.  It is a splendid building in its own right. Another audio-guide took me round.  I did much enjoy this visit, and here’s just a small selection of pictures I saw.

Alphonse de Toulouse-Lautrec [father] en fauconnier, 1882 

La Comtesse Adèle de Toulouse-Lautrec [mother], 1882

Vieille femme assise sur un banc à Céleyran, 1882

Aristide Bruant, 1892

Views from the windows. The river is the Tarn.

Le Divan Japonais, 1893

La Troupe de Melle Eglantine, 1896

Yvette Guilbert, 1895 (ceramic)

1894. (photographe is ‘photographer’)

1896. The Simpson Chain was short-lived, and its only claim to fame these days seems to be that Toulouse-Lautrec designed a poster for it.

La Vache enragée, 1896

There was the chance to see more of the Palais de la Berbie after seeing the T-L exhibits, but I was pretty tired by now, and only had a quick look around.

I couldn’t resist taking a photo of a photo of this famous poster, though it’s not by T-L

These two also are photos of photos inside the palace

This one particularly gives an idea of the immensity of the cathedral.  The huge palace is dwarfed by it.

I was on the first or second floor when I took this photo.

By the time I made my way back to my car (by the tedious sensible route this time!) it was rush hour, and raining solidly once more by now.  But I could look forward to another excellent meal, courtesy of my host.

 

Toulouse and Tarn 6

Tags

Aveyron, Bruniquel, Cordes, Gaillac, Ingres, Montauban, Montricoux, Puycelsi, St-Antonin-Noble-Val

Monday, Hilltop Villages. Today’s weather was forecast to be worse than ever, and indeed so it turned out to be.  At no time did the temperature rise above 9°C/48°F, and with the wind chill factor added, I was absolutely frozen at times, and wished I had gloves with me.  A complete relook at plans was necessary, and I decided to drive to the fairly large town of  Montauban, about an hour away, as there was a substantial Ingres museum there to occupy me.  I had gone about halfway when I realised it was Monday, so thought I’d better check that it would be open, as so much in France is closed on the first working day of the week. It took me a while to obtain a signal, but in due course I was so glad that I had checked.  The museum was indeed closed, but not (only) because it was Monday. It was undergoing substantial renovation! At this I really could think of no alternative but to set off on the trip round the hilltop villages and countryside that I had imagined would in fact, in decent weather, occupy me for the two full days I had in the area.

The first village was Puycelsi, and I drove up and up and up and up the wind-y road until I reached the main square, where I was delighted to find an open café.  There was no-one of course sitting on the extensive terrace, but there were two pairs of apparent tourists inside.

View from the terrace of the café

I spun out my coffee as long as I could, then ventured outside to explore.  Magnificent views on two sides.  Being so high up though, this corner took the full force of the wind.  I did my best to take photos and this video, my camera in one hand and my umbrella in the other.

 

At this point the wind broke two spokes of my brolly. I continued walking round the village, somewhat more sheltered from the wind, and the rain ceased for a while. My hands were still bitterly cold. 

Note a couple of dots at the end of the alley

These are they. Puss doesn’t look too pleased at the weather either.

I drove on

…taking a backward look at Puycelsi…

to Bruniquel of which I had very pretty memories from 1990. By now it was nearly lunchtime, so I looked out for either something to buy or somewhere to eat.  Everything shut – it was Monday, as I explained to some Canadian (?) tourists who approached me to ask firstly if I spoke English and then if I had seen an open restaurant.  I walked up to one of the two castles.  Given the age of each, I was not sure whether this was the old one or the new one, but I took a few more photos up there. 

The Aveyron

I remembered this view – in brilliant sunshine

As I recall I didn’t actually have my umbrella up at all in this village, and the wind was a little quieter.

 

The next stop was Montricoux, where I was happy to find a bar, serving meals, and open.  I only wanted a soup and a coffee. They were happy to serve this to me, but the computerised till was stumped in due course.  The soup was just the first course of their set menu, and there was no icon to press for that alone.  So the proprietor decided to charge me as if I had had a portion of chips (frites/French fries)!    I wandered round the town for a while, until it started raining again. 

I liked this – deliberate or otherwise – green roof

I then drove on to St-Antonin-Noble-Val, a fascinating place, via the beautiful Aveyron valley and its gorges. When I eventually found parking, I saw from my satnav that the interesting old town was pedestrianised, and a five- to ten-minute walk away.  I didn’t get out of my car. A further long drive followed, and I was delighted that the satnav took me off the main roads and by some fields of wildflowers, and between rain showers.  Sadly, I don’t think these photos do justice their prettiness.As I was gasping by now for a drink, I just parked in the centre of Cordes, and went to the nearest salon de thé for a lemon tea. As I am trying Toulouse weight (sorry) I resisted, as I did throughout the trip, all the wonderful pastries on offer.  I also resisted wandering round the town, (although I remembered it was very pretty), because of the rain. In 1990 we had seen on a poster the name of its local choir: Cordes Vocale.

The final part of my circular drive, back to my lodgings, took me through mile after mile after mile of vineyards on rolling hills (Gaillac is the local wine).  I was very frustrated that I could not stop to take any photos of these, but I was on main roads in the rush hour.  There was just too much traffic for me to stop, and any laybys were in the wrong place for photos.

The day finished with another lovely meal prepared by my host, who by now had learned not to pile the new potatoes from his garden too high. I was in bed by 8.30, so cold was I (despite the additional heating provided) until 8.30 the following morning.

USA 2018 (3) A day with my cousin

Tags

Black-capped chickadee, covered bridge, Erratics, Flume Gorge, Franconia Notch, House finch, Ice Castles, Lincoln NH, Manchester NH, Mount Lafayette NH, Mourning dove, New Hampshire, Pemigewasset, White-breasted nuthatch

USA 2018 (3) A day with my cousin. Wednesday 14th February.  Geoff had kindly taken time off work to be with me from midday on. Again rising later than the rest of the family, I had an enjoyable morning watching antics at the bird feeder.

Black-capped chickadee

Mr and Mrs House finch

Mr and Mrs Mourning dove (rather smaller than UK doves)

White-breasted nuthatch

But it was not only birds. The following sequence is a compilation of many attempts by the same squirrel.

Shall I try jumping? (It’s a long way down!)

I’ll have a scratch and a think

OK, perhaps not.

(But as this photo shows, the following day…)It was of course a great pleasure to get to know the affectionate Coco and Bam, sister littermates.

After an early lunch, Geoff and I set off on some local errands, including visits to a bank in Manchester for me and to their younger daughter’s school for her, and then headed northwards, while not leaving the state of New Hampshire.

Geoff had offered me the chance to see a covered bridge, once frequent but now sometimes preserved as historic features.

The bridge went over the Pemigewasset River

We were due to visit an attraction, the Ice Castles at Lincoln, later on, and swung by them now, in full sunlight. Other attractions there included a collection of trains.

Geoff then took me to the Flume Gorge at Franconia Notch State Park, where we took a short walk. I was not really shoed for more, but was very grateful to be wearing Nicole’s parka. Lovely to walk amongst such thick snow. 

Erratics abound (and to be clear, an erratic is a geological term for a boulder where it shouldn’t be, moved there by glaciers!)

Another covered bridge, a serendipitous find, to which we did descend

Then on briefly to see Mount Lafayette, from a distance, where we rang Geoff’s mother in the UK from the car, lost the signal, and picked it up shortly afterwards. As one not quite as familiar with technology as the next generation, I found this easy and clear contact all very weird – and it was free!

After taking coffee and dessert back in Lincoln, we kept our appointment with the Ice Castles. 

The adult slide

which I did enter

but which was much, much steeper than I expected, and from which my exit was not nearly as elegant as this. I wished I had taken a video – but not enough to choose to do the slide again!

I did wonder about elf ‘n’safety – what if one of those icicles fell on one’s head?

Nightfall is the most popular time to visit.

Thanks, Geoff, for a great day out!

 

Andalucia 11

Tags

Andalucia, Andalusia, domestic cat, Donana National Park, Iberian lynx, lynx, myxomatosis, Naturetrek, Sierra Morena

Andalucia: Felines, at last!  It has been suggested to me, from Canada, that if I wanted to see lynx I should have travelled to that country, where they are abundant.  Ah – but our quest was for Iberian lynx!  There are estimated to be only about 400 of these left in the wild, though recent conservation efforts have meant that this figure is fourfold what it was 15 years ago. It remains the world’s most endangered feline species. The two places we tried to see them, the Doñana National Park, and the Sierra Morena, are the best places to do so; there are more in the latter, but they are much more widely scattered there.  Naturetrek did not guarantee a sighting – how could they? – but 80% of these trips had had positive outcomes.

The Iberian lynx, considerably smaller than the Eurasian version, is about the size of a boxer dog, and has wonderful ear tufts and a short stubby tail. Its main prey is rabbit, and there is great concern for its future because the rabbit population has considerably declined in recent years, the result of myxomatosis and other disease.

We saw no lynx during our first, morning, drive – but a pug mark, thought to be made the night before.

Notice the claw marks

And on the roads there were warning signs. As we set off for our second, late afternoon, drive, we were told that a lynx had been spotted that morning eating large prey.  We (Sergio and the driver) found the prey:

Probably a small deer

The lynx would not be likely to be far away from such a larder, and could well be sleeping its meal off.  And eventually he – a magnificent nine-year-old male named Dardo (dart) –  was spotted resting in the shade.  

He has a collar

After a while, it was decided that we should move on to the one remaining patch of water in the vicinity, (see previous blog) and hope to see Dardo again on our return.

Lynx staple diet

He had scarcely moved, 90 minutes later. 

Not fazed at all by humans in a van staring at him, perhaps 50-80 metres away

Night was closing in.  Huge sighs of relief from all leaders, and huge smiles of pleasure from wildlife tourists.

 

We returned quite early the next morning hoping to catch the lynx eating.  He had finished though by the time we arrived, and was hanging around near where we had seen him the previous day.  This is the best shot I could get, partly because it took me a while to spot him, despite others’ efforts to help, and partly because I was on the wrong side of the van to get into a good position.  But I was able actually to see him walking around for a few minutes, in and out of and behind the bushes.  We decided to move on once he had finally disappeared, but just then a rangers’ van came up, someone leapt out, and went over to where the prey had been, and came back holding something.  We were most privileged to be shown the pictures his camera trap had taken the previous afternoon, before we had arrived there.  Serendipity or what!

No, we didn’t see any lynx in the Sierra Morena, just this old piece of lynx poo.  But there were compensations for cat lovers back at the hotel!  Cats (domestic) and more cats and more cats! Mostly happy to accept caresses, with just one or two rather more nervous – perhaps having had bad experiences from previous guests, and some very friendly indeed. It was impossible to know how many there were, especially since they were nearly all black and white.  There were two mothers, one of which was a sort-of Siamese, and it seemed to me that the rest were mainly 6-month-old kitlets with a couple of 3-month-olds.

I do know there were at least 13 cats (and I suspect more), because when we came back to the hotel on our last day, I had a load of chicken ham on me, left over from lunch.  As a result, when I got it out of my back pack, there were kittens into said back pack, after the smell, and then around my feet – 12 of them. One mother cat was absent from this feast, so that meant there were at least 13 cats in total at the hotel.  I didn’t manage to get a photo of the blissful experience of having 12 cats round my ankles, as I didn’t want to get my camera greasy, but here is a selection of the photos I got at other times. (Felinophobes, jump to the last picture.)

This is the one I would have kept in my back pack and brought back to the UK!

Or perhaps this one, though it was a little shy

I counted 6 in this hidey hole at one point, but it is not easy to get a good picture of six blackish cats in the shade!

One of the two mothers

I believe this granite piece was once used to crush olives

Apart from treats from guests, the staff made sure the cats were well fed and watered. This final picture shows a completely different and very admirable creature profiting from their bounty, at the start of a long journey, presumably back to a nest.  I really, really enjoyed my eight days in Andalucia, and it has really given me a great desire to go back – to see more of its rich cultural heritage, and also, perhaps at a different time to year, once more to explore Doñana National Park.

 

Andalucia 7

Tags

Andalucia, Andalusia, Donana National Park, Egyptian grasshopper, Egyptian locust, El Rocio, Hotel Toruno, Iberian lynx, Naturetrek, red deer, Romeria del Rocio, Wild West

Andalucia, El Rocio and Doñana National Park.  The Doñana wetlands are the largest in Europe – except that they were almost dry at this time of year, the effect exacerbated by the farmers who take much of the water for irrigation, especially of strawberries.  We were staying at the Toruño hotel.

Note the hitching posts

On the wall of the reception area showing the species we might expect to see

The hotel restaurant, over the way from the main building. What appear to be tall hitching posts are bar counters for horsemen!

This was in the small town of El Rocío (‘the dew’), quite the most extraordinary town I have ever visited.  It was like driving into the Wild West. When you think of it, the Wild West may well have been modelled on such places in the first place – except that in this case much of the town has only been built from the 1950s onwards,.  We were told that it is known as the International Town of the Horse, though my researches since have not been able to find out much about that.  But what El Rocio is known for is a pilgrimage, the Romeria del Rocío, at Pentecost each year, which attracts up to a million people. These can arrive on horseback, in horse-drawn carriages and in wagons.  For there is no tarmac in El Rocío itself. The ‘roads’ are laid entirely with sand.  (Another blogger has written much more fully – and elegantly – about the town here.)

The remaining posts about my trip to Andalucia will be by theme, rather than day by day accounts.

The remains of this one will introduce El Rocío and the National Park, the next the entirely different Sierra Moreno where we spent the second part of our wildlife tour, then the remaining three posts will relate the wildlife we found  –  and some domestic animals.  But back to El Rocío. Internationally known for it or not, it is certainly a town for horses, and there is much evidence of the pride of place given to them. Here are two ordinary ‘roads’ and the sign at the restaurant where we ate lunch at one day.

Yes, cars are allowed

When we got back from a morning drive on the Tuesday, instead of sheltering from the blistering heat, I went out to explore El Rocío for a short while. 

I thought I was perhaps the only person about (‘the English(wo)man out in the midday sun’) but these three horsemen greeted me cheerily.

Huge pilgrimage needs huge church

The sign says that in 2001 the Andalucían authorities had declared this species of olive, endemic to the region, a ‘Natural Monument’. (If only all regional declarations in Spain were so benign.)

There were two young cats entertaining us with their antics at each of our two outdoor dinners there, siblings probably, and here is one of them just before we left at midday on the Wednesday. Horses. I had looked round from my meal on the Tuesday evening and seen one of the high bar counters being used! And I took these two photos from the van as we returned from our second morning drive. 

The head of the woman exercising the horse at the end of rope in the ring is just visible

El Rocío is right on the edge of the Doñana National Park.  These four photos were taken a short walk from the hotel.  For most of the year, there is a lagoon hugging the whole of one side of the town. However, we could just see a very distant shimmer of water, all that remains until the rains come. (Nearly two weeks on, I don’t think they have done so yet. And yet my guidebook says that October has one of the highest rainfalls of the year in Andalucia.  Climate change?)

Horses are everywhere around the town, and in the National Park, grazing where they can, sadly some of them in an emaciated condition.

Most of the birds were too far away to be well identified.

Two-inch long Egyptian grasshopper, also known as the Egyptian locust, but no threat to crops and vegetation.  Here at a wildlife visitor centre.

Lizard with attitude, same place

These remaining pictures were taken out as we explored early in the morning or as the day drew to an end, deeper in the national Park, looking especially for Iberian lynx.

The long shadows are of humans. The flat brown bit would be under water earlier in the season.

And these red deer stags were a distant vision on the ‘lagoon’ just before we left El Rocío.

 

Andalucia 4

Tags

Andalucia, Andalusia, Archivo de Indias, Carlos V, Charles V, Mudéjar, Murillo Gardens, parakeet, Pedro I, Real Alcazar, Sevilla, Seville, Seville Cathedral

Real Alcazar, Seville, a UNESCO World Heritage Site, Sunday 22nd October. The Moorish rulers, who had conquered Andalucia in 711, had constructed the great fortress, the walls of which you can’t help but see if you are in central Seville.  At the re-conquest of Southern Spain by Christian rulers in the 13th and 14th centuries, not all the Moors were expelled.  Some craftsmen were allowed to remain, and we learned a lot about the Mudéjar (‘those permitted to stay’) influences on architecture as many subsequent rulers redesigned the former palace.  Pedro I ordered a complete redesign of the interior in 1364, and Carlos V (1516-56) was another significant contributor to its current appearance. Further developments continued up to the 19th century, notably to the gardens within the walls, which I had skirted the day previously as I walked through the Murillo Gardens and to the Archivo de Indias.  The palace is still used by Spanish monarchs when they visit Seville.

Public entry was by a fortress gate.  Here is a splendid Mudéhar interior entry.

It was not only to avoid visitors that eyes drifted upwards much of the time:

A rare chance to look at a floor, unencumbered by visitors.

So many thousands of details to be admired.

An organ in the renaissance part of the palace, developed by (Holy Roman Emperor) Carlos V.

Frustratingly I managed to delete a detailed video I made of this great tapestry of Spain and surrounding countries, seen, in effect from high over the eastern Pyrenees, looking south. To me it was amazing that those who could climb no higher than the highest mountain could imagine this satellite view of their country, and of north Africa, Italy and the south of France.

The Ambassadors’ hall, where kings did most of their governing, was a wonder, only partly captured even on a video.

 

There were peaceful – and not so peaceful – courtyards. 

Mudéhar architecture on the ground floor, renaissance on the first, and a glimpse of an original fortress tower top left

Known as the baths of Maria de Padilla

There were several acres of gardens, including those designated as French, and English.

The Fountain of Mercury

Today’s feline

As I sat in the gardens eating my apple, I was entertained by the squawking of these parakeets,

and was surprised to find, on zooming the camera, that they had not only been provided with perches in the palm trees but that some had identity tags.

 

Oranges

and lemons

 

One of several rose gardens

 

I was in trouble for stepping onto the grass to photograph this nearly moulted peacock…

and his hens.

Water and fountains are very important in Mudéhar style

I left the Real Alcazar mid-afternoon, with still the Cathedral to visit before returning to my hotel.  Not omitting another visit to the nougat shop.

 

Andalucia 2

Tags

Andalucia, Andalusia, Archivo de Indias, Bizet, Carmen, Fabrica Real de Tabacos, Guadalquivir, Hotel San Alonso XIII, Iglesia de la Magdalena, Iglesia Santa Ana, La Giralda, Mérimée, Murillo, Puente de Isabel II, Puente de San Telmo, Real Alcazar, Royal Tobacco Factory, Sevilla, Seville, Seville Cathedral, Torre d'Oro, Triana, University of Seville

Continuing my ’90-minute’ walk in Seville. After those shops (previous post) the guidebook said that I would come across the Iglesia de la Magdalena, built in 1709 on the site of an earlier Moorish mosque. So I just walked straight past this of course.But it turned out to be the side entrance. Despite the fact that a mass was in progress, I was encouraged to walk around at the back and sides of the church by a member of the congregation standing by to greet visitors. The building proved to be anything but plain on the inside.

A reminder of Seville’s naval triumphs

And when, continuing on my route, I went round to the front of the church, it was more recognisable as such.I went on to the Triana district, the other side of the Guadalquivir river, over the Puente (bridge) de Isabel II, looking north
and looking south.Can’t resist an indoor market.
My route then took me by many ceramic shops.I was beginning to want a drink and a sit, and I was delighted to find a quiet square, that of the 13th century Iglesia Santa Ana, Seville’s oldest church.

Still on the Triana side of the river, I continued along it for a short while, with a view of the Torre d’Oro.

Then back over the Guadalquivir River by the Puente de San Telmo, and into the Calle San Fernando, with a sighting of the Hotel Alfonso XIII, built between 1916 and 1928 for visitors to the Ibero-American Exposition, meant to boost the Andalucian economy, but sadly co-inciding with the Wall Street crash.

What’s this then? Ooh, it’s the University of Seville. Open to the public, so there’s another deviation from the walk.

First floor – and here, it would appear, there are actually some students

Pretty impressive for a university.  But even more impressive when you know it was a tobacco factory before that. Not just any old tobacco factory, but the Royal Tobacco Factory, employing 3000 women. You know, the one employing Mérimée and Bizet’s ‘Carmen’.  There were signs over doorways of former occupation, amongst them foremen, loos (still in use as such, though out of order this day) and stores.

 

Once more outside, I was still walking alongside the huge ex-tobacco factory, and was level with its chapel, when I noticed a wedding party arriving, and managed to get a photo through the grill as the bride emerged from the car.

Note the head-dress!

Into the Jardines de Murillo, named for the painter,where I sat to eat an apple, all the lunch I needed after the very full breakfast and in the great heat. Looking at my map, I realised that I was not far from the Archivo de Indias. I had seen advertised a temporary exhibition there which had really caught my eye. Put the words ‘maps’ and ‘river’ together, and they are a magnet to me. So I diverted,

On my way I noticed a tour guide pointing out this garden.  No idea what it was.

A first sighting of the Cathedral

A first sighting of the Real Alcazar, (‘Royal Fortress’)

and serendipitous further diversion took me past – or rather into – a nougat shop where I bought a large bar of the softer version, with tropical fruits, with the thought that I might well return.

 

(The next post will be exclusively concerned with the map and river exhibition and the building in which it was housed.)

Afterwards, it was time for another sit-down, and a drink, of fizzy water this time. And a photo of a sleeping cat which didn’t move the whole of the time I was there.

Back to my appointed route

A young woman had been idly stroking this cat in a quiet square, as she read a book.

Approaching the Giralda.And back to my hotel, via the Plaza de San Francisco and the Ayuntamiento once more. Too exhausted to explore more widely, I just took tapas in the hotel’s own restaurant later on that evening.

Sicily 1: Edoné

Tags

Catania, Edoné, Francesca Marchese, Geoff Andrews, Graniti, Sicilian food, Sicily, Sicily Unlimited

Edoné. I’d last been to Sicily in 1975, and had longed to go back again ever since.  At last I had the chance, when I booked on to Geoff Andrews’ Sicily Unlimited trip, to spend a week at Edoné (stress on the last syllable), about an hour’s drive north west of Catania, studying a few aspects of Sicilian culture, with appropriate visits.  Geoff organised, and Francesca Marchese, a Sicilian journalist (mainly TV), now living and working freelance in London, was our local guide.

We – a group of just four people – arrived late morning on Thursday, 4th April, and spent the rest of the day quietly settling in, exploring Edoné and getting to know each other.

The building on the hill is another holiday residence

Alfresco eating location

I was very pleased with my room, and its very modern bathroom.

Entrance

View from

Once unpacked, I made the acquaintance of some of Edoné’s personnel.

Enzo in his kitchen

Nerina

 

Luna

I only ever saw one species of lizard, very green with an amazingly long tail.

We had had a delicious lunch, and soon realised that superb food was to be a hallmark of the week.  This is the dining room, and the antipasti at dinner.  (While I was tempted to, I did not take a photo of every dish we were served during the week.)The next day was Good Friday.  A nature walk and a most extraordinary Good Friday procession will be the subject of the next two posts.

 

Madeira 7

Tags

Baia d'Abra, Brocken's Spectre, Cristian Rinaldo Airport, elephant, Faial, Funchal Airport, Glory, Hibiscus, Islas Desertas, levada, Machico, Madeira, Monk Seals, Pico d'Arieiro, Ponta da Sao Laurenco, porta da Cruz, Radar station, Ribeiro Frio, Santana, trout farm, Wordpress

Madeira 7. Saturday 19th November.  A grand tour of the East of the island, certainly my favourite organised day.

We set off along the new roads towards and past the airport, which has recently had it runway extended – by building over the sea.  I managed to get a shot of how it works as we whizzed past.

We were soon passing Machico, said by Lina to be the second largest town on the island, Wikipedia says third.  Whatever – at some 22,000 its population is only about 8% of that of Funchal.  It does boast one of only two yellow sandy beaches in Madeira – sand imported  since the island only produces black volcanic stuff.

On to the easternmost accessible part of the island, the Ponta de Sâo Laurenço and the Baia d’Abra.

Looking back westwards

Looking eastwards. I love the way the spray frames the cliff.

For the second time in the week we observed a photoshoot going on. Madeira’s a good wheeze!The tour continued.

Porta da Cruz

Faial

 

Hibiscus, Santana

There used to be many houses like this all over the island. These at Santana are kept for tourism purposes

Cats just love drinking anywhere but their bowls.  Is this a mini levada I wonder?

After lunch in a very nice restaurant back near Faial, I had a little wander,

Faial village

before we moved on to Ribeiro Frio, where the main point of interest is a trout farm – though it looked as if there was some great walking to be had from there as well.

It was grey and overcast at this last stop, so as we then climbed and climbed to the Pico D’Arieiro we feared that there would be no views because of the cloud cover.  No need to have worried.

Supermoon?

No, a military radar station

Remember I said something previously about no elephants on Madeira?

 

It was fabulous, above the clouds

But this was the best of all.  A ‘glory’! A phenomenon that can occur when you have the sun behind you and cloud below you. Amazing and wonderful, (and much clearer than it seems in this photo, as I think the camera probably had problems focussing on the cloud).  There was in fact a very clear second rainbow around the first.  The whole thing was just spectacular. (It may or may not have been a Brocken’s Spectre, when you see your own silhouette against the rainbow, but I think that in that case your silhouette is dead centre.  I think this was the shadow of a radio mast which was behind me and slightly to my right.)

(Here I am looking at it – photo again by Charlie.)

Yes, it was near a precipitous edge, but not as close as it appears.

On the way back, this time we stopped near Machico, and got a better view of the town, and of the extreme tip of the island where we had been in the morning.  And of the artificial sandy beach.

These are the Islas Desertas, an uninhabited nature reserve, but full of lots of wildlife, particularly birds and monk seals, and you can go there on a trip.  I might, next time.

Finally, back past that airport, where I snatched these two photos through the windows of the coach.

We were to take off over that runway two days later!

 

Nothing was laid on for the last day. But I had plans…