My attraction to the sunrise is not just in its beauty. It is also in the allure of what might accompany it. Some are spectacular and some are mediocre. Sometimes they are invisible, shrouded by a veil of cloud. On this particular morning, my luck was in. I could see the sails of the yacht in the distance, just as the sun was beginning to appear. However, I was on an elevated walkway above Cala Capitan at an angle to the sun and looking down onto the water. I quickly made my way down to the beach until i was in line with the sun. This took about five minutes. Just in time to capture the yacht, silhouetted by the giant burning globe. There is a romanticism attached to sailing, especially when it comes to non sailors like me. We don’t appreciate the considerable effort and technical knowledge required to navigate one of these vessels. My navigational skills extend to a few days steering a cabin cruiser on the River Shannon and Lough Erne. And so, for a moment I found myself yearning to be onboard, witnessing the spectacle of the sun creeping above the horizon. Until I realised that it was the silhouetted yacht that made this photo a bit special.
I had entered my 60th year when I saw New York for the first time. I had many preconceived notions about it – all based on TV shows, films and books. I imagined it to be densely populated, noisy and shabby in places and probably a bit overwhelming. And it was all these things. One thing that was unexpected was the sheer scale of the place and you can only appreciate this when you see it ‘in the flesh’. We stayed in mid town Manhattan and as a keen photographer, one of the first things I realised was that the towering skyscrapers meant limited ‘field of view’ (see photo below). I decided that the best photographic opportunities would be the ones taken from the outside looking in. In other words, from the river or an elevated vantage point but more on that later. You either love New York or you hate it. I can’t imagine anyone saying “it’s okay”. I returned a year later, so you know which category I am in.
Approaching Grand Central Terminal from East 43rd street with the Chrysler building taking centre stage.
Tip: If you’re a photographer, bring the widest angle lens you own. For me, this was 24mm but a 16mm lens could be useful.
Some New York (mainly Manhattan) trivia. Did you know?
New York has five boroughs. They are (in alphabetical order) Bronx, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Queens and Staten Island.
There are 21 bridges and 15 tunnels in and out of Manhattan.
Manhattan is an island bounded by three rivers. The Hudson River, the East River and the Harlem River.
Manhattan is subdivided into districts and some of their names hint at the historical concentrations of various businesses such as the Flower District, Garment District, Diamond District and Meat Packing District.
Manhattan is easy to navigate, thanks to its grid system. Most of the borough follows a pattern of avenues running north/south and these are intersected by streets running east/west. Fifth Avenue is the dividing line between east and west. Simple but effective. Makes getting lost difficult!
The average length of a city block in Manhattan, e.g., walking along 5th Avenue from 42nd to 43rd Street, is 264 feet. So, about 20 blocks per mile.
Manhattan is one of the most densely populated areas in the world, with a population distribution of almost 73,000 residents per square mile.
Some NYC acronyms. DUMBO-Down Under Manhattan Bridge Overpass. SoHo-South of Houston Street. Tribeca-Triangle Below Canal.
Flower District. An oasis in Midtown Manhattan.
Before arriving at our hotel on West 28th Street, I had only paid brief attention to the part of the description that said ‘in the heart of the flower district’. It was, after all, New York. Flowers are not something I would have associated with that city. We arrived in the evening and the street was surprisingly quiet, despite its close proximity to 6th Avenue. I woke at 4.30am (it didn’t take much to rouse me because my body clock was still on home time, which was 9.30am and I would normally be well into the work of the day). I heard the sounds of a metal shutter being raised and the rattling of trolley wheels dropping from the kerb onto the road. Or as they would say in NYC, “from the sidewalk onto the street”. I went to the window and saw that it was raining. Looking down to the street I saw the source of the noise. A half raised shutter revealed a lighted interior and a group of workers loading trolleys with shrubs, plants and a wide variety of flowers but the surrounding darkness made it difficult to see much detail.
The flower seller’s day starts early at 4.30am
Then one by one, the shutters of adjacent shops began to rise, and more light spilled out onto the reflective surface of the wet street. Soon the area was a hive of activity, and the pavements (sorry, sidewalks) were transformed into verdant walkways. Walking along the street in daylight was a truly pleasurable experience. The bright colors and heady scents seemed incongruous with the concrete jungle, but the effect was therapeutic. The flower district has been in this location since the 1950s. Its history goes back to post-Civil War days, and its most famous predecessor was the Union Square Flower Market, which opened in 1891. The number of flower sellers is diminishing annually as they fall foul of increasingly high rents ($7,000 to $25,000 per month!) and post COVID19 inflation. In the 1950s, 60 sellers were operating here. Today there are less than 20. The reason for the early opening is that the shops act as wholesalers to the trade from 5:00 a.m., so the best time to visit would be after 9:00 a.m. While the daytime experience of the Flower District was enjoyable, the abiding memory for me will be waking at 4:30 a.m. and hearing West 28th Street come to life in the city that never sleeps.
Nature in the city.
Tip: Visit after 9.0am when the professional buyers have left and before midday when a lot of the blooms will have been sold.
Circle Line Cruise. The best way to view Manhattan.
The multitude of sights to see in NYC and the ways in which to see them is endless and determined by personal choice. In my opinion, the Circle Line Cruise around Manhattan is a must. As I mentioned in my introduction, the best way to see Manhattan is from the outside looking in. If the impressive vantage point was all the tour had to offer, I would have been satisfied but it included much more. The guide (David), a native New Yorker, provided the story of the city’s fascinating history, from its native inhabitants, through to modern day. His narration was peppered with human stories and trivia that only a local would know and his portrayal of the city and it’s people was one of an eclectic mix of behaviours and mindsets. A place where nothing is unusual. To illustrate this point, he described how, while filming a scene in Times Square for Ghostbusters, the directors didn’t use extras. The sight of Bill Murray and Dan Aykroyd running through the streets in silver suits, carrying their ‘proton packs’ didn’t provoke much of a response from the seasoned New Yorkers who have seen it all!
Cruising down the Hudson River with the financial district looming in the distance.
Tip: Sit on the left hand side for unobstructed views of Manhattan. If sitting outside in any season but summer, wrap up well. It’s always colder on the water.
The One World Trade Center dominates the skyline in the Financial District in Lower Manhattan.
The gap where the Twin Towers stood, a solemn reminder of a dark day in New York’s history.
Before circling Manhattan, we took a short detour and sailed past Liberty Island for that obligatory photo of the Statue of Liberty.
The Statue of Liberty was a gift from France in 1885 to honour the alliance between the two countries during the American Revolution. She is made of copper which has been oxidised by the air over time, resulting in the green patina of copper oxide. The statue is struck by lightning, on average, 600 times every year.
Brooklyn Bridge. The iconic first bridge over the East River, linking the boroughs of Manhattan and Brooklyn.
Tip: The best vantage points, in my limited experience, from which to photograph the Brooklyn Bridge are from a boat on the river, from the Manhattan Bridge or from Brooklyn Bridge Park in Brooklyn.
Sailing up the Harlem River, we passed the home stadium of the New York Yankees.
Yankee Stadium is situated in the Bronx and opened in 2009. It replaced the original that was built in 1923. Apparently during construction, one of the workers, a Boston Red Sox fan, buried a Red Sox jersey underneath the visitors’ dugout. He hoped this would bring the Yankees bad luck! However, his dastardly deed was reported by his colleagues and he was forced to dig it up again. The Bronx is the only one of NYC’s boroughs that is part of the USA mainland.
The George Washington Bridge (GWB) on the Hudson River.
Connecting Washington Heights in Manhattan to Fort Lee in New Jersey, the GWB is the busiest motor vehicle bridge in the world. Over 100 million vehicles cross this bridge every year. Opened in 1931, it is the only suspension bridge in the world with 14 vehicular lanes.
Back at our starting point at Pier 83 at West 42nd St and 12th Avenue
As we approached the dock from which we had departed over 2.5 hours previously, the sun was low in the sky and the clouds were taking on a pink hue. For the last hour, I had been the only person on the outer deck. It was bitterly cold but I hadn’t come all this way to miss whatever photo opportunities came my way. I shook from head to toe and my hands were numb and painful but it was worth it. A unique experience, viewing the most interesting and most famous city in the world from the water. An experience made all the more enjoyable by the fascinating, informative and entertaining commentary from our guide who was as unique as NYC itself. Thanks David!
On the Edge. A bird’s eye view from the Edge observation deck.
For a completely different view of Manhattan, there are various ‘observation decks’ scattered around the borough. These include the Empire State Building, One World Observatory, Top of the Rock and Summit One Vanderbilt but my personal choice was Edge (not sure why it’s not called the Edge). When you have limited time in NYC and have decided to only do one observation deck, your choice will not be an easy one. I picked Edge because of its riverside location on the banks of the Hudson, its views of Midtown and Lower Manhattan and its status as the highest observation deck in the Western Hemisphere. It was difficult to envisage what the view would be like from such a place but it didn’t take long to find out. The high speed elevator took us from ground floor to the 100th floor in 52 seconds! Stepping out of the elevator, we were confronted by sight that will probably be one of my most enduring memories. Looking down at the Empire State Building!
Looking down at what used to be the tallest building inthe world.
Construction of the Empire State Building began on St Patrick’s Day (17th March), 1930. It opened on 1st May the following year. Impressive schedule by any standards. It’s name comes from the nickname for the state of New York (the ‘Empire State’) and when it was completed was the tallest building in the world. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to describe it as the most famous building in the world. It is large enough to warrant its own zip code (10118), similar to 43 other buildings in NYC. Its observatories on the 80th, 86th and 102nd floors helped make it the number 1 attraction in the world in Tripadvisor’s 2024 Traveller’s Choice Awards. But, just like the Brooklyn Bridge, if you want to photograph it, you don’t want to be on it. Standing there gazing at it, glowing in the setting sun, I admit to being a bit starstruck.
As darkness fell a short time later, the magnitude of the building was evident as its illuminated peak towered above the city. The glass wall around the observation deck affected the quality of the images but that didn’t lessen the enjoyment of the occasion.
Of course it wasn’t all about the Empire State Building. The views looking south towards the financial district were impressive in their own right. The beautiful sunset over the Hudson River was an added bonus.
View from Edge looking towards the Financial District, with One World Trade Center reaching skyward and the Hudson river on the right. Beyond the southern tip of Manhattan, you can see the illuminations on the Verrazano suspension bridge (also referred to as The Narrows Bridge) which connects the boroughs of Staten Island and Brooklyn.
I often wonder how much I would remember about places I’ve visited, if it wasn’t for the photographs. The details would be scant. But when I look at the photos, the memories are triggered and the details come flooding back. That’s the real beauty of photography and I suppose, the main motivation for this website. When I’m old and decrepit it will serve as a repository of all the life enhancing experiences I’ve been lucky enough to have had.
Tip. I recommend buying the tickets for Edge at the on site ticket office. We bought ours online with Viator and the scanner did not recognize the code. This led to a lengthy delay and we were eventually issued with new tickets. It’s also worth noting that you will still need to purchase in advance because it is highly unlikely that you will be able to visit the deck at the time of purchase. Numbers are strictly limited. This will mean two trips to Edge but in my opinion, well worth it.
Sometimes visitors are welcome, other times they aren’t. The most magical times of day for me are sunrise and sunset. Without any deliberate intention, I developed a habit of photographing these. And while every sunrise or sunset is different, I find myself increasingly looking for ways to add variety. As I was taking a photo on La Zenia beach on the Costa Blanca, Spain, early one morning, a dog appeared out of nowhere. My first reaction was irritation but I quickly realised that his appearance added the variety I had been looking for. Whether you are a dog lover or not, I think you’ll agree that he is the star of this particular photo.
Queensland is a pretty unique part of Australia. It’s got everything from city to beaches to rainforest, all within an hour’s drive. Bribie Island is one of the most beautiful beaches I’ve ever seen. It is pristine and unspoilt. One of the reasons for this may be that it can only be accessed by 4 wheel drive vehicles. Luckily for us, my nephew drives one of these. He has lived in Queensland for several years and kindly took some time off work to spend with us. When I stepped out of his jeep, I stood on the beach and looked in every direction. Not a single soul for miles. I experienced what can only be described as a Robinson Crusoe moment.
Bribie Island. A serene and unspoilt paradise. My nephew comes prepared!
We spent another day here in a BBQ boat. We dropped anchor in the shallow water. The warmest sea water I’ve ever been in (26 Celsius). Saltwater swamp on Bribie Sailors for a day. The boat came complete with gas BBQ and toilet. The Crew
Surfers Paradise
Then there’s Surfers Paradise on the Gold Coast. Which could probably be described as Bribie Island on speed. The kind of place Robinson Crusoe goes when he’s had too much serenity and wants to party. It’s got the beautiful beaches but also has endless bars, eateries and night clubs. Not to mention some serious high rises. I can’t complain about these however because we had an apartment on the 34th floor and the views were something else!
A birdseye view in Surfers Paradise
Many happy hours were spent on that balcony, catching up with family. We had breakfast, lunch and dinner here while enjoying the view, the music (Ed doesn’t go anywhere without his Bose speaker), the sea breeze and more than a few drinks. Even the occasional storm was a joy to watch from this vantage point.
Give me the moonlight..
A view of Surfers Paradise from Burleigh Heads beach
Springbrook National Park
I never really understood how it could be possible to have a sub-tropical rainforest less than an hour’s drive from the Gold coast. Geography isn’t a strong point of mine. But it was there that we spent the most unique night of our visit. As we drove away from the coast and into the hinterland, I was struck by the lush greenery all around us. I had a preconceived notion of Australia as an arid, dusty country. I now realise that it is so vast that it has every possible variation of climate, depending on which region you are in. As the car climbed the mountain roads, the grassland gave way to forest on both sides as we entered the area of the majestic Springbrook National Park. On arrival, we parked the car and loaded our luggage into the carts provided and pulled them the short distance to The Mouse’s House Retreat. And if there was any doubt that we were now walking on the wild side, the sight of two large snakes at the edge of the path quickly dispelled that notion.
Our welcoming committee, consisting of two carpet pythons.
Closely followed by what I believe is known as a skink
Our accommodation would be best described as a 3 storey luxury cabin built in the style of a tree house.
Spiral staircase in the Mouse’s House Retreat All mod cons…Life in the canopy
The veranda projected out into the canopy of the trees and the growth was so dense that the sun barely penetrated the leaves. We settled down with drinks and some snacks and I tried to look relaxed while nervously glancing up now and again to see if the friendly neighbourhood pythons were going to drop in. The rainforest was surprisingly quiet with only the occasional bird song to be heard. Then as the light faded the critter chorus began. It started with the bird calls, followed closely by the toads and cicadas, accompanied by the occasional screech from God knows what! The cacophony grew to a deafening crescendo and then, as quickly as it started, it stopped and all was quiet again. It hadn’t been dark for long when some visitors arrived. The veranda was illuminated but all around us was blackness. The branch of a tree seemed to be moving but it was hard to tell if it was my imagination stepping up a gear. Then a dark coloured creature the size of a cat but resembling a racoon appeared and made its way slowly along the handrail.
Night visitor
It was a possum and apparently they have gotten use to visitors of the human variety and are quite partial to crackers. They certainly caught our attention and were the main guests for the rest of the evening.
Ed the Possum Whisperer
Numinbah Nature Reserve
On the way back from the Mouse’s House we stopped off to take in some of the breathtaking scenery. The photo below is taken from the rim of an ancient (and dormant) volcano. The fertile volcanic soils, high humidity and rainfall provide all the elements needed for a sub tropical rainforest to survive. At least that’s what the information board said. In that moment, the whole rainforest thing made sense! Over millennia the area evolved to become what is now the beautiful Numinbah Nature Reserve, its ridges forming part of the border between the states of Queensland and New South Wales. Home to ancient trees, rare plants and exotic fauna, looking down at it is just as pleasurable as being in it.
Numinbah Nature Reserve Antartctic beech trees. Some individuals are up to 12,000 years old! They are highly specialised and have very exacting requirements for survival.
We only spent one night in this location but it was enough to trigger a realisation of the unique biodiversity of this part of Australia. While people go about their everyday business in the city, a short distance away a whole other world exists. One that was there long before us and should be there long after we are gone. I now have a greater appreciation of the growing awareness of the detrimental effects of climate change in Australia and elsewhere. The future of these ecosystems hang in the balance and once they’re gone, they’re gone. Food for thought…
Byron Bay
No mention of New South wales would be complete without reference to Byron Bay. It is the most easterly point on mainland Australia. The coast consists of yet more stunning beaches but unfortunately the day of our trip was a bit of a washout so I reluctantly left my camera in the car. However, that didn’t stop us seeking out what was once named Australia’s number one secret destination in Australian Traveller magazine’s 100 Incredible Travel Secrets of Australia. Given the effort it took to reach the secluded WhitesBeach at BrokenHead, its status as a secret location was no surprise. We (Ed) negotiated several miles of washed out ‘road’ (in a VW Polo!) before descending several hundred steps that led to a crescent shaped cove bounded by rocks and palm trees. On a sunny day this would be the stuff of Bounty adverts. Sorry if you’re too young to remember them! I will always remember the 6 of us making our way down those steps in our swimwear in the rain, each carrying our drink of choice. We passed a diehard surfer coming in the opposite direction. I could just about make out his quizzical expression through the fogged up lenses of my rain-covered glasses. “Nice day for it” he said but I can only guess what he was really thinking!
As for the actual beach town of Byron Bay, it has a laid back hippie vibe and is home to artists musicians and the odd dropout. Not to mention the actor Chris Hemsworth. That’s one you will know if you’re young. I had to ask!
And as a very fitting end to our day, the sun obliged with a brief appearance which allowed me to capture a shot of the iconic Byron Bay Lighthouse. Perfect end to the day.
Cape Byron Lighthouse
This blog could quite easily become a book if I included everything we did but just a few other memorable moments….
Bookfest. I could have spent all day here. Run by Lifeline, a crisis support and suicide prevention charity, it raised over a million dollars in 3 days. Bring an empty suitcase (isn’t that right, Harry?)
The bird sanctuary. Amazing collection of the most colourful and exotic birds imaginable, most of which were unwanted pets. The Eumundi Markets…after Ed finally found some footwear. Only in Australia could you leave home and forget your shoes! Oysters at the surf club at Noosa Heads. Yum! Bee Gees WayRedcliffe, where the Bee Gees grew up. Who knew? We also spotted a couple of dolphins here.
The trip down under would not have been as memorable if it hadn’t been for all the effort that people went to for us. They really did go the extra mile! As for our hosts, Harry and Ria, the extent of their hospitality was humbling. We couldn’t have felt more welcome. Sometimes the extent of the hospitality left me with a hangover but when the wine is such good quality, well what can you do? And while we’re on the subject of drink, after a night at Jim’s house (he’s Irish), I felt like I was a connoisseur of single malt whiskey. And it’s always nice to sample some of the old ‘milk’ from back home (that’s right Jim, the stuff the ‘milkman’ used to deliver!). As for Harry’s steaks, well as the man said, “you had to be there”.
A South African and 2 Irishmen walk into a bar…Here’s to good times and new friends
Every day spent in Australia was special. Not just because it was spent in the company of my daughter. Different aspects of it reminded me of various other countries but it has a distinct character all of its own. If I was asked to describe what that unique feature is, I would struggle to put it down on paper. It’s not just the sights and sounds, the light and climate, the people and the easy going pace of life. But a combination of all of these things. The one tangible and inescapable fact is that it is far away! 10,300 miles to be exact. But it’s not just about the miles. It’s about how we perceive separation between loved ones. Somehow the length of time it takes to reach them seems to be what defines distance.That awareness seemed ever present and is the only negative thing I could say about this beautiful part of the world. For young people the opportunities are endless and the quality of life exceptional. I would highly recommend it as a starting point to experience a lifestyle that isn’t found everywhere but it’s a bridge too far for me. I will always be glad that I experienced it and hopefully will visit again in the not too distant future. In the meantime, I have the memories…and the photos.
What do you do when your city isn’t on the coast? Simple. You build a beach in the city! Streets Beach, South Bank, Brisbane.
It seems that all of the longest journeys I undertake these days are dictated by my youngest daughter. Not content with spending a year in the USA, she has decided to make Australia her home for the foreseeable future. Because of the distance (10,000miles) the Land of Oz would never have been on my radar. But blood ties are a powerful motivator.
So, at the end of January we set off on the marathon flight to the Land Down Under. At the time of writing, the Coronavirus is world news but when we started the journey it wasn’t much of a concern. At least not until boarding the plane on the first leg-Heathrow, London to Singapore. Being the Chinese New Year, a significant portion of the passengers were making the journey to celebrate with family there. The abundance of mask-wearing passengers was slightly disconcerting but I was determined not to let anything interfere with my joyful anticipation of seeing my daughter for the first time in a year and a half.
My globetrotting daughter, Tiarna and her partner, Eduan. Or as they are more commonly known, T and Ed.
13 hours to Singapore, followed by 7.5 hours from Singapore to Brisbane and we walked out into a balmy 30 degree Celsius (90 degrees Fahrenheit) morning. The fact that 24 hours earlier we left a wet and cold (5 degree Celsius) Belfast, made this the first in a series of pleasant surprises.
I had seen some photos, taken from the roof of the apartment block where Tiarna and Eduan live and thought it looked like a nice place but seeing it for myself was a real treat. The view of the Brisbane skyline was impressive during the day but once night fell it was stunning!
Brisbane skyline
Our second day in Australia was ‘Australia Day’ and coincidentally, Ed’s birthday. So, if ever there was an excuse for a party, this was it. Having said that, the Aussies are a bit like the Irish-they don’t need an excuse! Now, in Ireland we normally celebrate birthdays (and every other occasion) in the dry confines of a house, hotel or bar. So it was a whole new experience to celebrate the occasion/s in a swimming pool!
Happy birthday (Australia Day), Ed.
This was our first real taste of Australian hospitality. Though it would be more accurate to call it South African hospitality. The couple hosting the party and who would later share their home with us for a week, were Ed’s parents. They left South Africa around 20 years ago and now have a new life in Australia. Their story is typical of many nationalities who now call this country home. To illustrate this, only 2 of the people in the above photo were born in Australia!
Korcula (pronounced Korchoola) is a small island in the Adriatic sea, lying off the Dalmatian coast. Approximately 30 miles long and 5 miles wide, it is home to 15-16,000 people. It is a Croatian territory. When I left school in 1979, my history and geography lessons included a cursory mention of Yugoslavia but never made reference to the fact that ‘Yugoslavia’ encompassed several distinct countries with their own individual identity and culture. Today, we know them as Serbia, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, Slovenia, Macedonia and Montenegro (I hope that is accurate!). However, my interest in this place was neither historical nor political. It was simply identified as a suitable location for a much needed ‘R&R’. I knew little about Korcula, or Croatia for that matter. But the allure of spending 2 weeks looking at blue seas and red roofs, with ambient temperatures in the mid 20s was enough to bring me there.
View from the Bell Tower of St Mark’s cathedral, Korcula town.A typical scene around the old town of Korcula.
When you have spent a lifetime travelling with children- from babies to toddlers, to teenagers-just two adults travelling alone is a bit of a breeze! The first challenge to this statement presented itself when we were dropped off at the pier where the ‘boat’ would take us on the short (10 minute) journey from the mainland to Korcula. Being a small island I didn’t have great expectations for the vessel that would ferry us safely across. Then again, I didn’t expect an oversize bath tub with a roof either! As we drew closer to the ‘boat’, we could see that it was already crowded inside and overloaded outside with suitcases precariously stacked ‘on deck’. Deciding to wait on the next crossing, we took a step back. But El Capitan was having none of it! He ushered us forward. Now if this was at home, I would probably voice a confident objection but being the unsure, subservient visitors, not wanting to offend anyone, we meekly complied with his directive. After all, as an Irishman, I felt it would be better to drown than hurt someone’s feelings in their own country! Once onboard, it was obvious that the boat was overloaded. As the pitch and roll of the vessel grew, two of the cases on deck took a nose dive into the sea! At this point, people started to scramble to get off. And this was the interesting bit. I learned a lot about myself and the Irish as a race. Instead of joining in the frenzied exodus, I found myself thinking, “once all the scared people get off, we’ll have a seat and be on our way”. And that’s what happened.
Croatia’s most famous towns are Dubrovnik and Split and, having visited Dubrovnik, I can safely say that Korcula is every bit as appealing, just smaller. Its ancient cobbled, narrow, streets exude a mystical character and the notion that these ‘streets’ have endured the footfall of subsequent generations for 5 centuries is food for the imagination.
A typical street in Korcula
A quiet moment
An interesting footnote for all those who think modern technology has all the answers-The streets in Korcula’s old town are built in a herring bone design to maximise the protection from the prevailing sea winds. Today’s architects and town planners are more likely to put their faith in computer aided design and algorithms rather than lessons learned from experience.
As I mentioned, we took a trip to Dubrovnik. It is a larger version, and consequently a busier and more commercialised version, of Korcula. The old town is a beautiful place where the streets and buildings are constructed from the stone that typifies the region. If you visit Dubrovnik, a walk around its walls will give you the best perspective. However, if you are unfit or claustrophobic, you may not be able to do this as it can be ‘challenging’ in places. Walking the walls, you have 2 views. Out to sea and into the properties enclosed by the walls. And while the sea views are spectacular, for me the most intriguing view was inward. Looking at the secluded gardens and cloistered walkways, I wondered about the lives of the people who lived here. How long have they lived here? What did they do for a living? How were they affected by the conflict of the 1990s? While the tell tale signs of bullet holes and shelling are still visible, they are easily overlooked as it is the beauty and character of this place that catches your eye and your imagination.
A view from the walls of Dubrovnik’s old town. The street appears wet but it is the buffing effect of the feet of thousands of daily visitors that gives the stone its sheen.A view from the walls down into what may have been a monastery or maybe just apartments. Given the serenity of the place, my money is on a monastery.Only resourcefulness and tenacity, not to mention a great deal of imagination, leads to a rocky outcrop becoming a busy bar and café.
Although we only ate in the hotel, the narrow streets of Korcula seemed like a pleasant place to enjoy an evening meal. The softly illuminated streets had a very appealing ambience and in my opinion, the old town was more attractive at night.
Diners in Korcula’s old town enjoying an evening meal and each others’ company.Diners on a boat in the harbour of Korcula’s old town.View of the setting sun from Korcula old town.
But here’s the thing! Yes, Korcula is a charming, relaxing, interesting, attractive place. And when you read the brochures and websites that promote the island, and the country, they do it justice. But they also talk at great length about the crystal clear waters and the quiet, secluded beaches. OK, first of all the water. Yes, it is the cleanest, clearest and the most vividly blue water I have ever seen. But the beaches? Maybe it’s just me but when I hear or read the word ‘beach’ I instantly think SAND. Nope! No sand. Anywhere! You will find every grade of stone and gravel, from coarse to not-so-coarse but you won’t find any sand. So, no need to pack your bucket and spade. But definitely pack beach shoes (not sandals because the stones get trapped in these). Luckily we had a nice pool at the hotel and it wasn’t a very busy time of the year, so no overcrowding.
A small harbour near the ‘beach’. A serene setting and a good place to unwind
So, while it was a bit surprising to learn that there were no sandy beaches, it didn’t spoil anything. Would I recommend it? Yes but maybe for a shorter stay.
One last thought. If you are visiting Korcula and you don’t want to be an extra in a mini version of Titanic, try sourcing a private water taxi to take you from the mainland…
2 weeks, 4 states and 2,000 miles after arriving in Atlanta, Georgia, it was time to return home to Ireland. Reassured that our daughter was settling in well to her new abode in the University of South Carolina, we were back in Georgia. We were spending our last day (and night) in Ringgold, North Georgia. We chose this location as it was a convenient break off point between Nashville, Tennessee, where we had spent the previous couple of days, and the airport in Atlanta.
Cabin at Ringgold, N Georgia.
The guesthouse we stayed in was advertised on Airbnb. And funny enough, the Irish diaspora being what it is, the place was owned by an Irishman who moved here in the 1970s! Kyran was an enthusiastic and welcoming host. His property was immaculate and homely. It was located in a tranquil wooded area with views over a small valley. Although we were only staying for one night, the refrigerator and larder were stocked with enough supplies to sustain an army for a short campaign. I remember being pleasantly surprised to see that the provisions included a bottle of wine. That evening as the sun was low in the sky, we sat on a bench overlooking the surrounding fields. Being the only drinker, I had to endure the hardship of tending to the bottle of wine, while Kyran spoke of how he came to live in Georgia; what he had worked at before retirement and his family. We were joined briefly by his wife Janet, a quiet, unassuming and gentile Georgian lady. Just as the sun dipped below the horizon a family of deer emerged nervously from a small clump of trees. It was hard to imagine this land as a bloodstained battlefield of the civil war or the site of a close call with a tornado a few years earlier. Watching the deer, I thought to myself ‘Sometimes it’s the simple things that make an ordinary day extraordinary’. As darkness fell we said our goodnights. We had only known them for a matter of hours but by the end of the day, they felt like old friends.
View from the bench
As we prepared to leave the next morning, Kyran’s hospitality excelled once more. He delivered two hot breakfast rolls that he had prepared for us. He had a name for them, which I can’t remember. But the taste was unforgettable. The only regret I have is that our stay was a short one. We keep in touch occasionally but if we ever find ourselves in the southern states again, Ringgold will be the first port of call.
The hosts with the most!
Update June 9th 2025. This morning, I learned that Kyran passed away in January of this year, at the age of 73. We kept in touch over the years by email but contact became more infrequent with the passage of time. I emailed him last week and when there was no reply, I searched the internet and found his obituary.
It was hard to take in because Kyran was larger than life and the type of person who made you believe that he would always be around. He was big and strong with a deep booming voice and hadn’t lost any of his Irish charm and wit. He was a generous man with a big heart. The year of our visit,2016, was a historic year for hurricanes in the southern states. Large swathes of the Carolinas were flooded and thousands of people were being advised to leave. Kyran contacted me and offered to let our daughter, who was in North Carolina, have the use of his cabin for the duration of the emergency. Acts of kindness like that are rare these days.
Our thoughts are with Janet and his family who will be trying to come to terms with the huge void that he left. The fact that he made such an impression on us in a very short period of time was a measure of the man and he will always be part of that chapter in our lives. May he rest in peace.
True to my contrary nature, I only spent a short time experiencing the side of Nashville that attracts millions of visitors each year. Don’t get me wrong. If you were spending a few days there, I’d recommend soaking up the music scene and having the odd afternoon beer in the countless honky tonks, enjoying the wealth of talented musicians chasing the big break. But we were passing through and settled for a brief behind the scenes glimpse of the history of ‘Nashborough’ as it was formerly known. See? That’s the type of nerdy info I like! And so, a chance encounter with Nashville Centennial Park taught me more in an afternoon than Google ever could! E.g. As a child I lived for a Saturday morning programme chronicling the adventures of Casey Jones, the driver of a steam train who had more than his fair share of adventures in the course of a working day. So much so that I always believed the character to be mythical. Then I happened upon one of the marble information stones, depicting the various famous and notable sons and daughters of this proud place….
All of a sudden my lazy childhood Saturday morning indulgence became an educational experience!
Numerous memorials of courage, defiance and exemplary acts of kindness and humanitarianism abounded in this place. Some inspiring, others humbling. But the most memorable discovery that day was a stone of granite with an excerpt from Robert Penn Warren’s book The Legacy of the Civil War. It struck a chord with me because it encapsulated the destructive aspects of war. I have come to believe that, in war, there are no Victors or Losers. Only Survivors. Any perceived gains are always outlived and outweighed by the losses. I found his words moving and profound. So much so, that I have read them countless times since that day. They have served to inform and reinforce my views on conflict. And I will always be grateful for that chance encounter in the autumn (Fall) of 2016.
If we do not learn the lessons of history, we are destined to repeat them
Robert Penn Warren’s book, The Legacy of the Civil War, describes how the civil war changed the ‘United States’ forever. Travelling through the southern states and observing the nuances, behaviours and attitudes of people, I sensed that legacy (but that’s another story for another day). Because of the poor quality of the photograph and because I find the words so inspirational, I will make the effort to reproduce them here:
….The civil war is our only ‘felt’ history -history lived in the national imagination. This is not to say that the war is always, and by all men, felt in the same way.Quite the contrary.But this fact is an index to the very complexity, depth and fundamental significance of the event…the civil war was, after all, a civil war..the prototype of all war. For in the persons of fellow citizens who happen to be the enemy, we meet again, with the old ambivalence of love and hate, and with all the old guilts, the blood brothers of our childhood…..
Cumberland River
calmer waters
A moment’s contemplation on the Cumberland River, Nashville. Quietly and anonymously absorbing the day’s new knowledge. The people on the bridge give you a sense of scale.
Tennessee sunset
Leaving Nashville
Giving in to my obsession with sunsets, I made an ill-advised and sudden manoeuvre to pull in and capture this amazing Tennessee sunset. Let’s face it. Some things you only see once!
For me the essence of a road trip is the experience of taking in the character and variety of the host country’s roads. That’s why, on the trip in 2016, I avoided the congested and featureless Interstates. As I drove along this stretch of Highway 11 (aka Cherokee Foothills Scenic Highway) with the stubborn taste of boiled peanut in my mouth (see post ‘Lost in Translation’), I was struck by the unspoilt beauty of this part of America. It was relaxing, as driving ought to be but rarely is. I found my thoughts drifting to the hotel from the night before. It was in a nondescript small town named Duncan. It was a one night stay so we opted for a low budget, no frills establishment. The room had been booked online. At check in the teenage girl, arms heavily tattooed with scripture (kid you not), informed us that it was a smoking room. I pointed out that a non smoking room had been booked. To which she replied, “it’s the only room left but I can give you a can of Febreeze”. Can’t say fairer than that!
Bald Rock
It may sound like a stupid thing to say but I used to wonder where the Blue Ridge Mountains got their name. Standing on Bald Rock, adjacent to Caesar’s Head State Park SC, the answer became obvious. This view was of the southernmost reaches of the Blue Ridge mountain range which stretches all the way from the Carolinas, Georgia and Tennessee, up through Maryland to Philadelphia. The trees release isoprene into the air which creates a distinctive haze and a blue hue. Hence the ‘blue’ in Blue Ridge. I think isoprene would be a preferable air freshener to Febreeze…
I had always harboured the notion of a road trip in the USA. I thought if it ever happened it would be up the eastern seaboard or the west coast or maybe even the famous Route 66. As it turned out, my daughter decided to spend a year of her degree at the University of South Carolina and that was my road trip sorted. We travelled through Georgia, South Carolina, Tennessee and Alabama. The cultural gaps were many but this photo will always remind me of one of those moments when you feel 2 feet tall. After leaving our daughter we started off on the Cherokee Foothills Scenic Highway (Highway 11). I had seen a few signs for boiled peanuts and was feeling peckish since we hadn’t had any breakfast that morning. So when I saw this colourful roadside stand, I had to stop. Being Irish, i usually only eat nuts once a year at Halloween. Monkey nuts. The ones that you crack the shell open and eat the nut. The friendly peanut seller explained that they boil them until they are soft enough to eat but you have to let them cool down first. I paid for a cupful and, with Mr peanut seller looking on, I proceeded to blow on my first ever boiled peanut. When I was satisfied that it had cooled down enough I popped it in my mouth. As I chewed the fibrous mulch I wondered how anyone could eat anything this disgusting! But not wanting to offend the man, I tried to disguise my grimace as a smile. “You like that”? he asked. “Yes” I lied. Then in a typical southern drawl he said “ain’t never seen no one eating em shells an’ all! But if it works for ya…”. My humiliation complete, I bade him farewell and went on my way. You can take the man out of Belfast but you can’t take Belfast out of the man!
Bleeding Dove 