Pages

Friday, 29 August 2014

Tuesday, 19 August 2014

Photo: August trips Italy-Slovenia

Ronchi dei Legionari, WWI memorial in Redipuglia
Here on monumental terraces are buried the remains of 100,187 fallen: 39,857 known and 60,330 unknown
Aquileia
Basilica of Aquileia, 1031, rebuilt in 1379

Castle Duino, Sistiana and Porto Piccolo
Castle Duino

Soča


Korita Mostnice
Waterfall Mostnica
Vogel
View of Lake Bohinj
Felt ice cold
And to end the day we went to Bled for kremšnite :P

Monday, 18 August 2014

Photo: Ireland

Ireland, always dreamed of visiting one day, and this year I finally did! 7 days, well 6 to be telling the truth (it took us one day to get to Dublin, felt like flying to the end of the world) and 1.500 photographs, 20 videos. The path we took was something like this: Venice-Frankfurt-London-Dublin, then Belfast, Derry, Donegal, Sligo, Westport, Galway, Aran Islands (Inishmore), Cliffs of Moher, Ring of Kerry, Killarney, Watervillage, Cork, Cahir, Cashel, Killkenny and back to Dublin airport. 7 different hotels, and only one of them had a ghost in the room ;) 35 people plus tour guide and a driver, a very pleasant bunch. As there is a lot of photographs, it took me some time to put something together, so here it is:

Since we missed two connected flights I had the opportunity of sitting by the window and viewing London as we landed (such a big city)
I loved that every night we spent in a different hotel. The hotel that impressed me the most was Jameson, but I don't remember in which town.
Molly Malone and a pub in Dublin, others are details from Belfast.
Belfast, the dock where Titanic and Olympic were made (when she left, she was fine). A very interesting walk.
Giant's Causeway, the audio guide you receive on entering here is really great.
Peace lines and monument for Bloody sunday
Mostly from Donegal.
Sligo, with W.B. Yeats grave
Carrowmore
Monument dedicated to Great Famine
Kylemore Abbey

On Inishmore, one of Aran Islands, we rented bikes and biked across it.
Worm Hole, one of the most amazing things we saw.
Cliffs of Moher
Bunratty Village
Bunratty Castle
On the way through Ring of Kerry we also had the opportunity of listening to Irish pipes.
*
Lots of stories gather in such a short amount of time. It was worth it. And since I love music, here are a few Irish tunes as well:
Sláinte! ;)

Saturday, 9 August 2014

Poet: W. B. Yeats


As we went across Ireland, we stopped in country Sligo in a place called Drumcliff, where W. B. Yeats is buried (love the simple graves, no candles anywhere). I didn't read many of his poems before, and there I bought his poetry collection and have been reading it through-out the journey and still am. I find a sense of solace in them.

In 1917, William Butler Yeats published The Wild Swans at Coole, and from then onward he reached and maintained the height of his achievement. In 1923, he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature and, as a celebrated figure, he was indisputably one of the most significant modern poets and confounded expectations by producing his greatest work between the ages of 50 and 75. He had a lifelong interest in mysticism and occultism, and he joined The Ghost Club, a paranormal research organization, in 1911.


When You Are Old
By William Butler Yeats

When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;

How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty with love false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;

And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how Love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.
*
He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven

HAD I the heavens' embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

This poem is also embroidered on a sculpture: