The steeple is Matthias Church in the Castle District
The Danube River flows through the middle of Budapest. Budapest was originally two cities that grew together. The hilly west bank (seen here) was Buda, and the flat east bank was Pest. High in the background one can see such tourist attractions as the Fisherman’s Bastion and Matthias Church.
“The beach is that way,” says crab to lizard.
Isla Contoy is a bird sanctuary off the northeast corner of the Yucatan peninsula. There are no hotels or permanent residents there, but one can easily make half day trips by boat from either Isla Mujeres or Cancun. The only buildings on the island are a ranger station, an observation tower, a small educational display, and some picnic shelters. Because people don’t live here (besides maybe a few park rangers and scientists) and the number of visitors is limited, the wildlife density (particularly birds, but also lizards, crabs, rays, etc.) is tremendous.
Because they try to limit where people go to avoid interference with the wildlife, a few hours here is sufficient. However, there is a pristine white sand beach that, as I indicated, is visited by rays and fish.
Looking over the old town toward the Gulf of Finland
The Estonian capital is a study in contrasts. The old town is medieval, yet fully wired for wi-fi. While it’s historical, it’s not one of those highly homogenized historical districts. The colors are varied and vibrant. One can see the iconic, silo-shaped towers and the steeples from many churches. In the background sit the cruise ships at port. The port is one of the vestiges of the Soviet era, a concrete monstrosity that will be built over soon enough– if it hasn’t been already. Outside the historic district, modern glass and steel buildings are shooting up all over. In the old town one spies the trappings of wealth; just outside it one witnesses poverty.
Guy Fawkes in Georgia
This photograph was taken on Labor Day weekend a couple of years ago after the DragonCon parade.
It reminded me of the poem “The Fifth of November.” I don’t believe its author is known, it’s usually cited as a “traditional English folk verse.”
The Fifth of November
Remember, remember!
The fifth of November,
The Gunpowder treason and plot;
I know of no reason
Why the Gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot!
Guy Fawkes and his companions
Did the scheme contrive,
To blow the King and Parliament
All up alive.
Threescore barrels, laid below,
To prove old England’s overthrow.
But, by God’s providence, him they catch,
With a dark lantern, lighting a match!
A stick and a stake
For King James’s sake!
If you won’t give me one,
I’ll take two,
The better for me,
And the worse for you.
A rope, a rope, to hang the Pope,
A penn’orth of cheese to choke him,
A pint of beer to wash it down,
And a jolly good fire to burn him.
Holloa, boys! holloa, boys! make the bells ring!
Holloa, boys! holloa boys! God save the King!
Hip, hip, hooor-r-r-ray!
Taken by my wife.
Sunset over Bangkok
People trying to get out of the city before they get trapped by debauchery.
On a cloudy night, this place would be CREEPY!
Have you ever seen an idyllic, pristine setting, and thought, Under different circumstances this would be the perfect location for a horror film?
That was my feeling as I walked out of the woods and saw this solitary, white church and its graveyard on a hill in central nowhere (No offense, Tennessee.) Picture what this place would be like under a low, roiling, gray clouds. It’s spitting cold rain, the graveyard is leaf-strewn. From which grave will a clawing hand protrude? You don’t know. You don’t know.
My dogs barking, having walked for hours, nearing the point of collapse, searching high and low for that mainstay of metropolitan rest, I spy a cast iron armrest around a corner, but inevitably find the last bench in the city to be occupied by a bronze bench-hog.
“Hey, George Hamilton, why don’t you move it along already.”
Nashville, TN
Okay, these are old people, but that bench is big enough for at least one more person. Skootch.
When they do leave enough room, they are busy having an intimate moment. Do know how awkward it feels to sit down to something like this?
Beijing, China
Oh, I still do it, mind you. Every mother wants more for her son than to be a bus driver. But the place for that talk is at home.
Here’s the worst though, the bench hog who leaves room, but dresses really creepy and puts his arm over the backrest.
Budapest, Hungary
“Yes, yes, come and snuggle up to ole Death.”
Tallinn, Estonia
Here, this guy gives you a little room, but look at the hostile body language: arms crossed, head and torso twisted slightly away. He acts like you’re a filthy, syphilitic leper just for contemplating sitting next to him.
“What makes you so much better than me, Mr. Anton Hansen Tammsaare?… Oh, the fact that they put a statue of you up for eternity in a prominent public park… Touché, well-played, Tammsaare, well-played.”
I’ll save the topic of all the bronze nudists for another occasion. Yes, we get it that you have an awesome tan and metallic abs, but no one wants to see Wee-Willy-Winky while they’re eating their sub sandwich.
Budapest, Hungary
Tiger Riding for Beginners 