When we visited Tavira for the day from our weekend base in Faro, I couldn’t help noticing the life-size statue of a soldier outside the station. He holds his kit bag in his right hand while his left is raised in farewell.
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One of the delights of a spring break somewhere a little warmer than home is of course to get out and enjoy the sunshine. And if you can do so by the sea, so much the better. I’m not one for lying baking on a tropical beach; I can’t take the heat and I get easily bored. But I love the sea: the sound of waves on the shore, the fresh sea air.
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Never go back, they say. And in fact, I rarely do. But occasionally I make an exception, and especially if I have fallen for a place while visiting without my husband and want to introduce him to it. Riga and Tallinn were in the past such places, and now Faro, on Portugal’s Algarve coast, has joined them.
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On our recent visit to Faro I found myself often looking down at my feet as I walked around. This was partly out of necessity; there were plenty of broken or uneven cobbles to trip me up! But it was also due to my fascination with the traditional patterns of the Portuguese pavements.
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The Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris, to give it its full name, seems to divide opinion. Built only in the early 20th century, I have seen some commentators criticise it as an eye-sore. Others (actually often the same people) abhor the reasons behind its construction. Its inspiration was the defeat of French troops during the Franco-Prussian War, which some felt was due to spiritual rather than political causes.
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March has been a quiet month for photography, on the whole. It started slowly as I searched, sometimes in vain, for subjects that inspired me. Then halfway through the month spring started to arrive. Trees burst into blossom, shortly followed by my beloved magnolias.
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While the Osa Peninsula in Costa Rica’s southwest is remote and wild, the Nicoya Peninsula in the northwest is rather more developed as a tourist destination. Nevertheless Pacific waves still pound its shores and there are quiet corners to be found. After all, ‘developed’ in Costa Rica is a relative term!
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Now every field is clothed with grass, and every tree with leaves; now the woods put forth their blossoms, and the year assumes its gay attire. This quote from Virgil, who lived in the first century BCE, is a reminder that spring has inspired writers throughout the centuries. I wonder if it’s the most written-about season of all?
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In the ancient streets of Bukhara history weaves itself effortlessly around the present-day lives of its people. Here you get a real sense of continuity. The world of the Silk Road caravans isn’t preserved in the aspic of Khiva; nor tucked into islands among the modern-day bustle of Samarkand; it is an ever-present backdrop to daily life. To walk these streets, duck through the low arches of the caravanserai and trading domes, sit for a while over green tea by the pool of Lyab-i-Huaz; this is what people of this city have done for centuries.
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When I included some magnolia flower images in my recent monochrome spring flowers post it was to celebrate their sculptural forms in particular. But while black and white really emphasises those forms, draining them of colour isn’t to everyone’s taste. And to be honest the shapes are just as beautiful and distinctive in colour; while the different shades from pure white through delicate pinks to deep reds and purple are equally worth celebrating.
