Oh Relax!

Haven't participated for a while so in the absence of a decent post, political angst, human injustice and other worthy causes . . I've decided to 'relax'.

My friend Darragh, its a long flight from Dublin to Paris  DUH

 A lot of walking needs a Nana Nap even if you're not a Nana

 

Sweet surfer Brad prefers a beer and a warm couch

The fiancees relax with a game of Guitar Hero - This is Serious Mum!

Bro-in-Law and there's a nephew relaxing somewhere under the cushions

My idea of relaxing. A deck, a glass, a view - Kiama in March 2010

Three of the Best, The Merry Widow, Thommo and The Teacher relax in Melbourne

Er you could be forgiven for accusing us of being couch potatoes but we do it well!

Now trundle along to Theme Thursday to see how others Relax.

Happy Anniversary and Pass the Prawn Pilaf

It's no secret, I love 'doing lunch' especially with a view, good company and an occasion to celebrate. This week my darling parents-in-law, the cutest octogenarians on the planet celebrated their 60th Wedding Anniversary. I love these people so intensely it's not funny. We've had our heartaches and our fallings out but they are my steadfast friends. What widow do you know of that keeps in touch with their son's parents after 25 years? They are awesome in a blinding, epiphanous way and it was a privilege and an honour to celebrate with them today. Happy Anniversary Bet and Art, you are my lovelies and if anyone is as lucky and as in love as you after 60 years,  they are blessed indeed.  I should be so lucky.

 Touch my chook . . I'll breaka ya face

 

 Foccacia Stack

 

 

Friendly Water Dragon

My Lunch, Prawn Pilaf

 The Bainbridge Side

 I'm so glad I still have a 'busy box'

Cousins

 The 'lovelies' Betty and Arthur . . 80 odd years young and 60 years of marriage.

What Floats? "Churches"

Still being a total slack arse with meaningful posts but a recent conversation on Monty Python and the Holy Grail (really must have another look at that) and well . . what else? Churches!

Sir Bedevere: There are ways of telling whether she is a witch.
Peasant 1: Are there? Oh well, tell us.
Sir Bedevere: Tell me. What do you do with witches?
Peasant 1: Burn them.
Sir Bedevere: And what do you burn, apart from witches?
Peasant 1: More witches.
Peasant 2: Wood.
Sir Bedevere: Good. Now, why do witches burn?
Peasant 3: ...because they're made of... wood?
Sir Bedevere: Good. So how do you tell whether she is made of wood?
Peasant 1: Build a bridge out of her.
Sir Bedevere: But can you not also build bridges out of stone?
Peasant 1: Oh yeah.
Sir Bedevere: Does wood sink in water?
Peasant 1: No, no, it floats!... It floats! Throw her into the pond!
Sir Bedevere: No, no. What else floats in water?
Peasant 1: Bread.
Peasant 2: Apples.
Peasant 3: Very small rocks.
Peasant 1: Cider.
Peasant 2: Gravy.
Peasant 3: Cherries.
Peasant 1: Mud.
Peasant 2: Churches.

 

 St Sepulcre and of course there's a Meridian Line

 

St Sepulcre

 

Chairs for the faithful. First visit they were full of School Children taking Mass

St Chapelle famous for it's stunning stained glass but the main alter was under repair. 

Only one of two time we felt 'ripped off' for not being forwarned

St Chapelle, small but ornate and beautiful, again, so few  looked UP

Notre Dame, the grand lady of Paris

 

Votives at Notre Dame and everywhere else

Loves me a gargoyle, or two . . they look a bit like an old boyfriend

Hunchback of Notre Dame ' It's the bells, the bells'

Sacre Coer, no photos inside

St Jacobus, Toulouse (courtesy of my gorgeous friend Brethred, one that was in the stolen bag)

Not a Church but Tour St Jaques on Rue Sebastapol, my landmark, 

yes all mine, built for me to show me the way, seriously. 

Thank you Brethred, your photos are stunning.

Finally, Duomo Florence. Simply no amateur photo can do this place justice, it's awesome.

Friday Fuckwit on a Saturday

Hello peeps. Yes, I'm alive but not so well, been floored by the flu for the past few days, distracted by work, tonight's engagement soiree, making cup cakes and  well . . other things. . you know how it goes.  

Not so much a fuckwit unless he's completely insane and the jury may be out on that one but I've been discussing conspiracy theories with a friend and this one caught my eye:

Independent filmmaker George Clarke claims to have found images of a time traveler caught on film on a DVD version of Charlie Chaplin's 1928 film "The Circus." In the opening moments of a video on the finding, Clarke said that the scene, in bonus footage included on the DVD, has been
"screened this to about 100 people at a film festival I run here in Belfast, and nobody could give me an explanation."

We would have to say, they were not trying very hard. Clarke added, "Right now the only conclusion I can come to, which sounds absolutely ridiculous I'm sure to some people, but it's a time traveler."

An obvious explanation is a hearing aid. Hearing aids were introduced around that time. Perhaps it was a walkie-talkie. Or perhaps the person was just talking to herself.

Additionally, even without explaining the issue, how could anyone use a cell phone in the 1920s? There were no cell phone towers back then. And if there were, the roaming charges would have been brutal!

Of course, it's possible it is a time traveler caught on film: the person could have come from so far in the future that they don't need cell phone towers. Or perhaps it was an alien talking back to her mothership on a communicator (meaning this could be video evidence of a UFO back in the '20s!).

At any rate, take a look at his video, and decide for yourself.

Nah, he's a nutter . . . it's a guy with an hearing amplifier!

Arty Farty

On our first day, we arrived at 6am and couldn't access our apartment until 5pm. This after a 22 hour flight meant that we had to fill in a day, not stop long enough to fall asleep and entertain ourselves until we could muster the strength to carry our sorry tired arses up 100 winding spiral steps to our fifth floor apartment. 

We did this by gulping tiny cups of addictive and delicious espresso, eating croissants and wondering around town to check out the lay of the land.  We walked across to Notre Dame of course, through the backstreets and emerged on a bridge which we crossed and into a courtyard of a rather impressive building before realising that the glympse of a glass pyramid through an arched entrance meant we had wondered into the courtyard of the Louvre. 

Upon reflection, we were idiots, the building is massive, how could we not have known what it was. Characteristically French with it's gorgeous towers, wide open spaces and that Pyramid. I know the French didn't like it but you know exactly where you are when it emerges. 

We didn't go in first day of course but did eventually walk its hallowed corridors and thousands of steps. We barely touched the surface and after a while it became exhausting. I'm sorry I couldn't find the sarcophagus with the 10 Muses on it but Nike was stupendous in her headless glory and greeted us atop the first flight of stairs. The Mona Lisa is, well the Mona Lisa and it's hard not to become rather bored with the size of the collection so here's a few little known pieces that simply took my breath away:

 The building itself is a work of art

 

Fabulous sculptures rescued from Paris Parks

 

Very Frenchy, very chic

 Napoleon's Apartments, opulent to the core 

 

Even the escalator are impressive but few and far between

 

Walls and floors go unnoticed but are breathtaking

 

Now that's a welcome at a very ostentatious door

 

Don't forget to look UP!

 

Corridors of masterpieces, hard to imagine that they become monotonous. At this point I'm feeling rather embarrassed about my squeaky Dunlop Volleys.

 

Nike is huge and splendid and pathetic. I loved this thing so much

 

Wheres Langdon?

Ancient and moving, each monk is unique

Almost too big to photograph, it took my breath away

 

 

And the highlight. Tiny sparrows fed from our hands in the park outside, just lovely.

Gypsies Tramps and Thieves and a Couple of Drunks in Bairritz

A little more of 'hidden' Paris. Well perhaps not so hidden but one thing that we don't see much of here are hawkers, beggers, aggressive street vendors. In Paris they're everywhere from addicts on trains with their rote speil begging to feed their kids or their addiction to ferals with packs of dogs protecting their few belongings while they beg.  Of course there's the street life from prostitutes and peep shows to drug dealers and gypsies, all out for something. It's a colourful world on the streets for 'one Euro, one, Euro, one Euro" or simply kneeling on the sidewalk hoping someone will fill your cup.

Artists in Montmarte accost the tourists for portraits outside Sacre Coer, they're all good, very good but can be a little intimidating if you're not interested. This one however just tended his easel in the hope of a sale.

 

Hawkers are everywhere plying their mini Eiffel Towers, silk scarves, bottles of water, they're persistent and their product cheap but illegal. This is one of tens constantly haranguing the queues at the Eiffel Tower. Two days later they were seen off during a bomb scare. I'm sure they're back!

 

A slightly more wholesome crew playing Ah Ha's "Take On Me" in St Germaine. The crowd were there for the kid but I'm not sure he was actually playing. Still, cute overload and they sounded great.

 

The drug dealer and his posse on the corner of Rue St Denis, I watched many a trade here and he became the subject of a recent piece of fiction.

 

Addicts. This one sitting at the Arc de Triomphe still with his cone and lighter in hand having a conversation with an army of invisibles while others seem to find him invisible.

 

Gypsies at the Eiffel Tower, approach and ask if you speak English. If you do, they unravel their piece of white paper explaining why they need your money.  Say you don't and they race off with a devout purpose to fleece someone who does, usually Americans.

 

The Champs Elysees is indeed a busy street, far to busy to notice this woman who remained bent and wooden for the 2 hours we were there and probably many more after we'd long since left. It's heartbreaking and I have no idea why they beg.

 

Another street 'artist' cutting sillhouettes near the Place du Concorde

 

He might be down and out but he clearly feeds these guys regularly, they saw him coming a mile away.

 

On the street where we lived. New Sex Centre because old sex is so last Tuesday.

Looks like a bum but no. That's just Werner my Biarritz drinking buddy,  drunk falling off a wall.  Clare had to hold my hand home . . what a night.  Er, no the dog was sober.

Sorry for the infrequency of visiting, my internet has decided to be unavailable until at least 9:30 at night. New provider coming on board this weekend so hopefully things will be a little more stable (famous last words!)