Lisbon in Black & White (Lisboa en blanco y negro)

(Click to enlarge. / Haz click para ampliar.)

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Caravels (Carabelas)

Caravels were the preferred ships for discovery of the Portuguese and the Spanish in the 15th and 16th century on account of their seaworthiness, speed and manoeuvrability, not to mention their shallow draught which allowed the close exploration of unknown coasts. Bartolomeu Dias, Vasco da Gama and Columbus all sailed in caravels; one of Magellan’s ships was a caravel too. Having recently read a book about Portuguese explorers and visited Portugal, I noticed these famous ships (perhaps understandably) were just about depicted everywhere…

Carabelas fueron los naves preferidos de los navegantes portugueses y españoles en la era de los descubrimientos en los siglos XV y XVI, debido a su navegabilidad y velocidad, por no mencionar que por ser barcos de poco calado los navegantes pudieron acercarse más a las costas desconocidas. Bartolomeu Dias, Vasco da Gama y Cristóbal Colón navegaban en carabelas; uno de los naves de Magallanes también fue una carabela. Como acabo de leer un libro sobre los navegantes portugueses, en mi viaje reciente a Lisboa me fijaba en como esos barcos famosos eran representados en todas partes (tal vez con razón)…

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Gone Sailing

Last week, on the River Tagus, or as the locals call it, the rio Tejo, off Lisbon in Portugal.

It was sunny, thirty degrees and serene on the river. The engine had been turned off; we were under sail only. Young Friend of the Elephants was steering a yacht of 12 metres (she seems to have developed a knack to get respectable captains handing her the wheel), and managed to avoid container ships, the timetabled ferry and the pillars of the bridge. Mr Anglo-Saxonist asked our amiable captain if he thought the Mediterranean would be fine for amateur sailors. He didn’t. (I’ve been saying so for years but you can’t get an Englishman to respect the Mediterranean. It’s not big enough for them.)

But I digress. We’re on the Tagus, off Lisbon.

Enjoy. (As usual, click to open the gallery.)

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In the Footsteps of the Swallows and Amazons: Around Lake Coniston

Pirates on Lake Coniston

If this post will have any merit, it won’t be in the quality of the photos, taken from a distance from a moving boat; it will be in the subject.

For fellow admirers of Arthur Ransome‘s Swallows and Amazons, here follows part two of Waterblogged’s tribute to Arthur Ransome and the beauty of the Lake District: today we’re going on a tour around Lake Coniston.

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In the Footsteps of the Swallows and Amazons: Climbing the Kanchenjunga

One of the most engaging books I read as a child was Swallows and Amazons, and its sequel, Swallowdale by Arthur Ransome. (I didn’t get to read more of the series until later.)

Last week, we visited the Lake District and went to see the locations where the books take place. Young Friend of the Elephants, a firm fan of Swallows and Amazons, even lugged the books with her on the trip.

This is our joint tribute to the beauty of Lake Coniston and the genius of Arthur Ransome. (Click on the images to enlarge them.)

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Mantillas on Maundy Thursday (Las mantillas de Jueves Santo)

Seville in Holy Week…

Processions, processions. And then some more processions.

Huge floats covered in flowers moving slowly forwards in narrow streets among the throng of people. Hooded penitents bearing crosses or candles, church flags, incense, bands, children handing out sweets, a man singing laments from the balcony at four a.m. People dressed in mourning on Holy Thursday: women in black dresses with black mantillas, men in black or navy suits wearing ties. In blazing sunshine and thirty degrees heat.

I love Spain.

Sevilla en Semana Santa…

Procesiones, procesiones. Y luego aún más procesiones.

Pasos enormes cubiertos en flores que mueven lentamente adelante en calles estrechos entre la muchedumbre. Nazarenos en capirotes llevando cruces o velas, banderas de la iglesia, incienso, bandas de música, un hombre cantando saetas del balcón a las cuatro de la madrugada. Gente que se viste ropa de luto el Jueves Santo: mujeres en vestidos negros con mantillas, hombres en trajes negros o azules oscuros con corbatas. Y eso bajo un sol ardiente, en un calor de treinta grados.

Quiero a España.

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Waterloo Sunset

I thought I’d photograph the sky at sunset as it has been so spectacular recently.

Me ocurrió sacar unas fotos del cielo cuando se pone el sol, como recientemente estaba tan impresionante.

So I went down to the Thames and picked a prime spot where there was nothing in the way of my spectacular sunset. No trees, no tall buildings, no radio masts – nothing. There was the river, the sky and me. And there was going to be this sunset.

Así que fui al Támesis y elegí un lugar perfecto, donde no había nada para bloquear la vista de mi puesta de sol espectacular. No árboles, ni rascacielos, ni torres de telecomunicación – nada de nada. Había el río, el cielo y yo. Y iba a ser esta puesta de sol.

I waited.

Esperaba.

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Mediterranean Brilliance

Mediterranean brilliance hit me like a bolt of lightning; the whole of human life was enacted on a single, fabulous, public stage against a careless backdrop of thousands of years of sublime art. Colours, foods, markets, clothing, gestures, language: everything seemed more refined, more vivid, more vibrant…

(Cees Nooteboom)

Along the Thames (Black & White)

You might have thankfully forgotten but I’m working my way through the Dogwood 2016 photography challenge. I spared you Red (my efforts were dismal) and I’m not sharing Headshot because Sophisticated Young Lady, the only willing volunteer, is entitled to her privacy.

Which brings us to last week’s challenge: Landscape: Black & White. I went down to the Thames on Sunday afternoon; it was low tide.

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Spain in Black & White IV (España en blanco y negro IV)

Let’s not let March go by without some pictures of Spain…

Marzo no debe transcurrir sin fotos de España…

P.S. I think this will be the last post of Mediterranean Mondays (unless there are howls of protest). It's been running for a long time and I fancy a change. I will still continue to write and post photos about the Mediterranean of course; it just won't be always on Monday.

P.D. Creo que esto será el último post de Mediterranean Mondays (a menos que hayan aullidos de protesta). Llevo escribiendo esta serie mucho tiempo y me apatece un cambio. Por supuesto, seguiré escribiendo y publicando fotos del Mediterráneo, es que no será siempre el lunes.

A Day’s Hiking (No One Writes to the Colonel)

Two years ago I read No One Writes to the Colonel (El coronel no tiene quien le escriba) by Gabriel García Márquez on the train en route for a day’s hiking. (It was just the right length.) Yesterday it was the first genuinely nice day of the year, so we went hiking; and I re-read No One Writes to the Colonel on the train.

I mean the first time round I thought it was brilliant and my Spanish is two years better now.

It’s BRILLIANT.

(The day’s hiking wasn’t bad either.)

There’s only one problem with No One Writes to the Colonel: I feel completely discouraged from picking up any of García Márquez’s other books ever again: there’s no way  he could have surpassed this one.

In fact, I know he didn’t think he ever did.

You might also like:Gabriel García Márquez, Minus Magical Realism

In Memoriam: Azure Window (La Ventana Azul)

The Azure Window in Dwejra Bay on the Maltese island of Gozo made headlines last week – not for a good reason. The rock formation, one of the most popular tourists sights on the small island, has disappeared without a trace during a storm.

I had the good fortune to see it when it was still there – so for today’s Mediterranean theme, a few photos of the Azure Window in memoriam (click photos to enlarge):

In Memoriam: La Ventana Azul

La Ventana Azul en la bahía de Dwejra en la isla de Gozo en Malta salió en las noticias la semana pasada – y no por una buena razón. Esta formación rocosa, uno de los más populares lugares de interés turístico en la isla pequeña, ha desaparecido sin dejar un rastro durante una tormenta.

Tuve la suerte de verla cuando todavía estaba allí – así que para el tema del Mediterráneo de hoy, algunas fotos de la Ventana Azul in memoriam (haz clic en las fotos para ampliar):

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Iconic (St Paul’s Cathedral, London)

Iconic

The only photo I remember from my primary school history book is this:

St Paul’s Cathedral, rising above the bombed London skyline, is shrouded in smoke during the Blitz. Taken from the roof of the Daily Mail offices in Fleet Street. Copyright: © IWM.

I’m sure you’ve all seen it before: St Paul’s dome standing intact above the ruins, surrounded by smoke and flames, seemingly indestructible, converting into a symbol. Iconic doesn’t even begin to describe it. It was taken on 29 December 1940, the 114th night of the Blitz, by Herbert Mason, a Daily Mail photographer, from on top of the Daily Mail building in Fleet Street. I take my hat off to Mr Mason – quite apart from any other considerations, just for having the guts to stand on an exposed London rooftop during a German bombing raid, taking pictures.

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Just How Difficult Is It to Take a Self-Portrait?

Under certain circumstances: very.

The first challenge of Dogwood2016 was a self-portrait, using the camera’s self-timer. Well, finding out how to do that was easy (I read the manual).

But the rest…!

If there’s anything I hate more than being seen with a camera in my hand, it’s being in front of the camera. I was only sure of one thing: the resulting self-portrait should not really show much of me. If you say that can’t be a self-portrait, yes, it can.

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