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In the village of Ingbokol, healthcare workers administering COVID-19 vaccines are provided with personal protective equipment to protect themselves and those receiving the vaccine.
© Malteser International. All rights reserved. Licensed to the European Union under conditions.
"pretendes que la vida
se acabe doblando
sobre sí misma
cuando realmente
conoces el viaje
hacia ese lugar remoto"
"pretend that life
folding runs
on itself
when really
know the trip
to that remote location "
(Fotografía y prosa: Emili Bermúdez)
Remote controlled Rover, I challenged myself to make a remote controlled 6x6 with all wheel drive, as small as possible, front and rear steering, suspension and as many lights as I can cram into this model as possible. This model contains 1 buggy motor, 1 pf steering servo, 1 pf v2 IR receiver, 1 pf switch, 4 sets of pf LEDs, 2 pf extension cables and 2 old school lego LED lights (for the flashing lights)
Ordered a Pro Series Wireless RF Remote by Accessory Power from Amazon.
It works okay, but I do have some cons on it.
First off, the part that receives the signal mounts to the hotshoe. It does not use the hotshoe at all, but it mounts there. So you can't really attach external flashes or anything to your camera at the same time.
My trick around this is to turn it backwards so that it sits on the hotshoe, but there is still room for the on-camera flash to pop up enough to still access commander mode for any CLS systems.
But if you turn it backwards, every once and a while, the receiver will pick up the signal, but the shutter on release. Then it will queue the signal until it can shoot again. Once it can, it will just shoot and shoot and shoot and shoot and shoot and shoot until you take the battery out of the receiver and put them back in.
But it wasn't super expensive, and you get what you pay for. Overall, it serves its purpose.
There was never any doubt I would go to Rob's funeral. Rob was born just two weeks before me, and in our many meetings, we found we had so much in common.
A drive to Ipswich should be something like only two and a half hours, but with the Dartford Crossing that could balloon to four or more.
My choice was to leave early, soon after Jools left for work, or wait to near nine once rush hour was over. If I was up early, I'd leave early, I said.
Which is what happened.
So, after coffee and Jools leaving, I loaded my camera stuff in the car, not bothering to program in a destination, as I knew the route to Suffolk so well.
Checking the internet I found the M2 was closed, so that meant taking the M20, which I like as it runs beside HS2, although over the years, vegetation growth now hides most of it, and with Eurostar cutting services due to Brexit, you're lucky to see a train on the line now.
I had a phone loaded with podcasts, so time flew by, even if travelling through the endless roadworks at 50mph seemed to take forever.
Dartford was jammed. But we inched forward, until as the bridge came in sight, traffic moved smoothly, and I followed the traffic down into the east bore of the tunnel.
Another glorious morning for travel, the sun shone from a clear blue sky, even if traffic was heavy, but I had time, so not pressing on like I usually do, making the drive a pleasant one.
Up through Essex, where most other traffic turned off at Stanstead, then up to the A11 junction, with it being not yet nine, I had several hours to fill before the ceremony.
I stopped at Cambridge services for breakfast, then programmed the first church in: Gazeley, which is just in Suffolk on the border with Cambridgeshire.
I took the next junction off, took two further turnings brought be to the village, which is divided by one of the widest village streets I have ever seen.
It was five past nine: would the church be open?
I parked on the opposite side of the road, grabbed my bag and camera, limped over, passing a warden putting new notices in the parish notice board. We exchange good mornings, and I walk to the porch.
The inner door was unlocked, and the heavy door swung after turning the metal ring handle.
I had made a list of four churches from Simon's list of the top 60 Suffolk churches, picking those on or near my route to Ipswich and which piqued my interest.
Here, it was the reset mediaeval glass.
Needless to say, I had the church to myself, the centuries hanging heavy inside as sunlight flooded in filling the Chancel with warm golden light.
Windows had several devotional dials carved in the surrounding stone, and a huge and "stunningly beautiful piscina, and beside it are sedilia that end in an arm rest carved in the shape of a beast" which caught my eye.
A display in the Chancel was of the decoration of the wooden roof above where panels contained carved beats, some actual and some mythical.
I photographed them all.
I programmed in the next church, a 45 minute drive away just on the outskirts of Ipswich, or so I thought.
The A14 was plagued by roadworks, then most trunk roads and motorways are this time of year, but it was a fine summer morning, I was eating a chocolate bar as I drove, and I wasn't in a hurry.
I turned off at Claydon, and soon lost in a maze of narrow lanes, which brought be to a dog leg in the road, with St Mary nestling in a clearing.
I pulled up, got out and found the air full of birdsong, and was greeted by a friendly spaniel being taken for a walk from the hamlet which the church serves.
There was never any doubt that this would be open, so I went through the fine brick porch, pushed another heavy wooden door and entered the coolness of the church.
I decided to come here for the font, which as you can read below has quite the story: wounded by enemy action no less!
There seems to be a hagioscope (squint) in a window of the south wall, makes one think or an anchorite, but of this there is little evidence.
Samuel and Thomasina Sayer now reside high on the north wall of the Chancel, a stone skull between them, moved here too because of bomb damage in the last war.
I drove a few miles to the next church: Flowton.
Not so much a village as a house on a crossroads. And the church.
Nothing so grand as a formal board outside, just a handwritten sign say "welcome to Flowton church". Again, I had little doubt it would be open.
And it was.
The lychgate still stands, but a fence around the churchyard is good, so serves little practical purpose, other than to be there and hold the signs for the church and forthcoming services.
Inside it is simple: octagonal font with the floor being of brick, so as rustic as can be.
I did read Simon's account (below) when back outside, so went back in to record the tomb of Captain William Boggas and his family, even if part of the stone is hidden by pews now.
I had said to myself, that if I saw signs for another church, I might find time to visit. And so it was with Aldham, I saw the sign pointing down a narrow lane, so I turned and went to investigate.
First it looked like the road ended in a farmyard, but then I saw the flint round tower of the church behind, so followed the lane to the church gate.
There was a large welcoming sign stating, proudly, that the church is always open.
St Mary stands on a mound overlooking a shallow valley, water stand, or runs slowly, in the bottom, and it really is a fine, fine location for a church.
I pushed through the gate and went up the path to the south porch, where the door swung open once again.
The coolness within enveloped me.
An ancient font at the west end was framed by a brick-lined arch, even to my untrained eyes, I knew this was unusual.
There were some carved bench ends, some nice fairly modern glass, but the simplicity of the small church made for a very pleasant whole.
I no longer watch TV much, so was unaware of the view and indeed church being used in the TV show, The Detectorists.
One of Suffolk's hidden treasures, for sure.
I had selected the list of churches to visit from Simon's list of 60 best Suffolk churches, choosing the ones that seemed near to Ipswich.
I had one more on my list, one a little bit out of the way, but I thought I had time, so set off for deepest, darkest Suffolk: Kettlebaston.
The trip took me past my old stamping grounds of Bildeston and Kersey, where I used to take Mum and Dad each Easter once I could drive, but once past Kersey, I still had twenty minutes to go.
Up the hill from Brent Eleigh into Kettlebaston, where the village was more of a dogleg in the road than anything else. I drove through slowly hoping the church would be obvious.
It wasn't.
It was playing hide and seek.
I programmed the church into the sat nav, and followed it back to the village, where beyond a small grassed area was a wall of a mature yew hedge, with the only way through a way so overgrown I had to stoop low to get through.
On the buttress at the south eastern corner of the Chancel, a painted panel showed the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven.
Clearly, this wasn't your normal parish church.
I am an atheist, its just the way I am, so these different "flavours" of Christianity do confuse me somewhat.
Even I knew when I walked in that this was a high church, high in the Anglo-Catholic tradition, with two altars either side of the Chancel Arch, the first such I think I have seen in a parish church.
I post these shots here and on a Churchcrawling website on Facebook, I might skip this one as it will draw lots of comments I think, not all positive.
I guess what saddens me is that they worship the same God, no? Is being right about how to do it that important? When wardens ask me what I think of their church, or should they put a glass door in instead of the ancient wooden currently, I say, it is a living church, your church, changes can be reversed if needed too. But it is your church, you have to live with it, it has to be suitable for all.
Despite all the above, there was much evidence of the ancient church: the font, paintings around a window among other features.
--------------------------------------------------
I always look forward to coming back to Kettlebaston. It is likely that anyone who knows the churches of Suffolk well will have Kettlebaston among their favourites. The setting is delectable, in the remote Suffolk hills between Hadleigh and Stowmarket. The building is at once elegant and interesting, the interior memorable, but most fascinating of all perhaps is the story behind the way it is today.
In 1963, in the thirty-third year of his incumbency as Rector of the parish of Kettlebaston, Father Harold Clear Butler sent a letter to a friend. "You are right,"he wrote. "There is no congregation any more." In failing health, he relied on the family of a vicar who had retired nearby to carry out the ceremonies of Easter week that year. In 1964, Father Butler himself retired, and an extraordinary episode in the history of the Anglo-Catholic movement in Suffolk came to an end.
There may have been no congregation, but St Mary at Kettlebaston was a shrine, to which people made pilgrimages from all over England. Here was the liturgically highest of all Suffolk's Anglican churches, where Father Butler said the Roman Mass every day, celebrated High Mass and Benediction on Sunday, dispensed with churchwardens, flouted the authority of the Anglican diocese by tearing down state notices put up in the porch, refused to keep registers, and even, as an extreme, ignored the office of the local Archdeacon of Sudbury. An entry from the otherwise empty registers for October 2nd 1933 reads Visitation of Archdeacon of Sudbury. Abortive. Archdeacon, finding no churchwardens present, rode off on his High Horse!
Father Butler came to this parish when the Anglo-Catholic movement was at its height, and survived into a poorly old age as it retreated, leaving him high and dry. But not for one moment did he ever compromise.
Kettlebaston church is not just remote liturgically. You set off from the vicinity of Hadleigh, finding your way to the back of beyond at Brent Eleigh - and then beyond the back of beyond, up the winding roads that climb into the hills above Preston. Somewhere here, two narrow lanes head north. One will take you to Thorpe Morieux, and one to Kettlebaston, but I can never be sure which is which, or even if they are always in the same place. Finding your way to this, one of the most remote of all Suffolk villages, can be like finding your way into Narnia. Once in the village, you find the church surrounded by a high yew hedge, through which a passage conducts a path into the graveyard. On a buttress, a statue of the Coronation of the Queen of Heaven sits behind a grill. It is a copy of an alabaster found under the floorboards during the 1860s restoration. The original is now in the British Museum.
One Anglo-catholic tradition that has not been lost here is that the church should always be open, always be welcoming. You enter through the small porch, perhaps not fully prepared for the wonders that await. The nave you step into is light, clean and well-cared for. There is no coloured glass, no heavy benches, no tiles. The brick floor and simple wooden chairs seem as one with the air, a perfect foil for the rugged late Norman font, and the rich view to the east, for the fixtures and fittings of the 20th Century Anglo-Catholic tradition survive here in all their splendour.
The two major features are the rood screen and the high altar. The rood screen is the work of several people, having been added to over the years by a roll-call of prominent Anglo-Catholic artists. It was designed by Ernest Geldart in the 1880s. It was painted by Patrick Osborne in 1949, apart from the figures, which are the work of Enid Chadwick in 1954. They are: St Felix as a bishop holding a candle, St Thomas More in regalia, St Thomas of Canterbury with a sword through his mitre, St John Fisher as a bishop holding a book, St Alban in armour and St Fursey holding Burgh Castle.
To one side, the Sacred Heart altar bears the original stone mensa from the high altar. The table itself is the Stuart Communion table. To the other, a Lady altar. All of these are either gifts or rescued from redundant Anglo-Catholic churches elsewhere. The elegant grill in front of the rood loft stairs is by Ninian Comper. Stepping through into the chancel is a reminder of how the clearance of clutter can improve a liturgical space. Here, the emptiness provides a perfect foil for the massive altar piece. The altar itself was the gift of Miss Eleanor Featonby Smith, consecrated by the Bishop of Madagascar in 1956, in one of those ceremonies conducted in the labyrinthine underworld of the Anglo-catholic movement. The altar sports what is colloquially referred to as the Big Six - the trademark six candlesticks of an Anglo-catholic parish. Behind them, the rich reredos is also by Ernest Geldart, and was also painted by Patrick Osborne.
At the west end of the nave is a display case holding facsimiles of the Kettlebaston alabasters, an oddly prosaic moment. But Kettlebaston's medieval past is not entirely rebooted, for the chancel was sensitively restored by Ernest Geldart in 1902 with none of the razzmatazz of his church at Little Braxted in Essex. The east window was rebuilt to the same design as the original, as was the roof. The late 13th Century piscina and sedilia are preserved, and on the north side of the chancel survives an impressive tomb recess of about the same date. The sole monument is to Joan, Lady Jermyn, who died in 1649. Her memorial is understated, and its inscription, at the end of the English Civil War and the start of the ill-fated Commonwealth, is a fascinating example of the language of the time. Is it puritan in sympathy, or Anglican? Or simply a bizarre fruit of the ferment of ideas in that World Turned Upside Down? Within this dormitory lyes interred ye corpps of Johan Lady Jermy it begins, and continues whose arke after a passage of 87 yeares long through this deluge of teares... rested upon ye mount of joye. And then the verse:
Sleepe sweetly, Saint. Since thou wert gone
ther's not the least aspertion
to rake thine asshes: no defame
to veyle the lustre of thy name.
Like odorous tapers thy best sent
remains after extinguishment.
Stirr not these sacred asshes, let them rest
till union make both soule & body blest.
Not far off, and from half a century earlier, a rather more cheerful brass inscription remembers that:
The corpse of John Pricks wife lyes heere
The pastor of this place
Fower moneths and one and thirty yeerr
With him she ran her race
And when some eightye yeres were past
Her soule shee did resigne
To her good god in August last
Yeeres thrice five hundredth ninety nine.
And yet, you notice, we never learn her name. Above, the roofs drip with hanging paraffin lamps, the walls have their candle brackets, for this little church still has no electricity. You sense the attraction of Benediction on a late winter afternoon.
St Mary is loved and cared for by those who worship in it. There are rather more of them than in Father Butler's final days, but they are still a tiny, remote community. Since 1964, they have been part of a wider benefice, and must toe the Anglican mainstream line, as at Lound. But also, as at Lound, the relics of the Anglo-Catholic heyday here are preserved lovingly, and, judging by the visitors book, it is not just the regular worshippers who love it, for Anglo-Catholics from all over England still treat it as a goal of pilgrimage. I remember sitting in this church on a bright spring afternoon some twenty years ago. I'd been sitting for a while in near-silence, which was suddenly broken by the clunk of the door latch. Two elderly ladies came in. They smiled, genuflected towards the east, and greeted me. Together, they went to the Sacred Heart altar, put a bunch of violets in a vase on it, and knelt before it. The silence continued, now with a counterpoint of birdsong from the churchyard through the open door. Then they stood, made the sign of the cross, and went out again. Father Butler looked on and smiled, I'm sure.
Simon Knott, October 2018
The pilot may control this crane from his cockpit but also from a remote which can be fixed on the ship.
Nikon D70, Sigma 12-24.
Camera is attached to ceiling with Impact Super Clamp. Triggered by IR Remote ML-L3.
2 SB-26 attached to ceiling with Spring Clamp, and aux-powered by Nikon SD-8.
Flashes syncs with alienbees cybersync. Not a single misfire. Thanks Paul C Buff! )
Remote controlled Rover, I challenged myself to make a remote controlled 6x6 with all wheel drive, as small as possible, front and rear steering, suspension and as many lights as I can cram into this model as possible. This model contains 1 buggy motor, 1 pf steering servo, 1 pf v2 IR receiver, 1 pf switch, 4 sets of pf LEDs, 2 pf extension cables and 2 old school lego LED lights (for the flashing lights)
in Kukup, Pontian, Johor, Malaysia
Nikon Df + AF-S NIKKOR 24-70mm f/2.8G ED
nostalgic atmosphere / 昭和っぽさある
Pinnacle Windows MCE remote sitting on the cofee table. Ready for action.
Shot with Canon 5D and KMZ Industar 50/3.5
Day eighty-two of The 100 Day Project for 2021.
Yesterday's drawing is a bit wonky.
Just like life, eh?
Yesterday was calmer. Flat but calm after an emotional early morning.
Working for myself has many advantages. Amongst others, if I need to take time out for self-care, I can. And I don't need to explain it to anyone. I don't need to justify it. Excuse it. Or have an awkward personal conversation with someone I know doesn't care about me beyond the service I provide, the work I do.
I did some paid work yesterday, but I didn't have to drag a tired, emotional wreck to the desk first thing. I didn't have to worry about my manager grilling me for logging on half a second late.
I don't miss that kind of working environment. Where your bum being on a seat and fitting your real life into strict time schedules is rated higher than the work you deliver or the care you take in your job.
Let's not even start on the bullying, chauvinism, sexism and racism (the last aimed at others, not me) endured within working hours in many of my past roles. I don't miss those things at all.
So yesterday I worked as much as I could manage. Outside of that, I looked after my heart and my mind.
I winced to see damage to my youngest avocado plant today. I can only presume it was caused by the candle I lit close (but not that close) the night before to stave off the darkness of the power outage.
Later in the day, I drew my old-school Apple remote that, unfortunately, no longer works with any of my devices.
I used a 4H pencil for the initial sketch, then overdrew with a B pencil for the darker elements and shading, and an HB pencil for the rest of the outline.
Despite sketching it in plenty of time to post before midnight, I prioritised editing prospective photos for the next instalment of my long-overdue Love letters to London series.
As much as I enjoy partaking in The 100 Day Project, it can become a bit all-consuming. Especially while working part or full-time.
When I signed up for this year's project, I didn't have many commitments. So that, and other new projects, like my 'Love letters...' were no big deal to manage. But on top of paid work and life right now, it was probably a bit ambitious, in retrospect.
And the "loser" in this situation is my photography. Which makes me unhappy, as you may imagine.
I'm sure I'll write more about this in my wrap-up post once the project is complete.
That doesn't mean I have plans to "phone it in" for the rest of the project (though some of you may be wondering!) It just means that sometimes I'm choosing more simplistic subjects to take things back to basics and reduce the time commitment each day. I'm still learning with each sketch.
And I actually have more elaborate ideas for sketches once the project is complete and my sketching becomes less time-bound. Again, I'll save those thoughts for the end of project wrap-up.
I actually have some of my favourite objects in the queue to draw in the next week. So please bear with me.
Meanwhile, I hope you're all doing okay. Sending you love, if you need it. Or even if you think you don't. xx
The Comcast TiVo remote adds buttons. I don't like more buttons.
New buttons include:
On Demand
A
B
C
D
STOP
"The A, B, C, D buttons let you access shortcuts and various features, depending on where you are."
That goes again the original Apple developer guidelines from 1984. It makes the functions modal, when the preferred way is non-modal.
In fact, it would have been better if no additional buttons were added at all, and these functions were put in on screen menus.
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From the August 2016 return trip to Siem Reap and the Angkor complex:
I love the Angkor complex, Siem Reap, and the Cambodian people so much that I returned again for about a week to photograph as much of the “non-major” sites as I could. Some of them are slightly far from Angkor Wat (by that, I mean to say more than 10 kilometers away), and usually require a little more money to get to. Also, some of the sites (Beng Mealea, Phnom Kulen) are not included in the Angkor ticket price and have an additional admission fee.
I don’t know if there’s a set number of how many sites belong in the Angkor complex, though I’m sure it would vary. (Do you only count the major sites like Angkor Wat, Bayon, Ta Prohm? Do you add the sites that aren’t included in the standard “Angkor Pass,” but are clearly of the same era? Do you include sites that aren’t even named (as are one of the sites in this series)? All in all, I’ll put a very rough number at…50 sites in the Siem Reap area, and that includes the sites that are about 100 km away. Of those, I would say I’ve been to all but 5-10 now. All are included here with the exception, obviously, of the sites that I didn’t visit. (Off the top of my head, I can say they include Koh Ker & that respective group, which is about 120 km ENE of Siem Reap; Phnom Krom, one of the three “mountains” with temples; Ta Prohm Kel; and Mangalartha.)
In practical terms, I’m afraid that with the volume of shooting (about 1,500 frames in the past 7 days), photos will start to look redundant to those who don’t have the same interest in ancient/historical architecture or Angkor as I do. That being said, there are a few things besides temples here. The Old Market area (now Night Market/Pub Street) is represented – a little – and Phnom Kulen has a pretty nice waterfall which is also in this series. Also, I tried to catch a few people in here, though didn’t get as many as I would’ve liked.
I had my friend Mao (tuktuk driver) take me around for 5 of these 7 days this time around. As I mentioned last time, he may cost a little more than what you can arrange through a hotel/guesthouse, but he’s well worth the money (and, in the grand scheme of things, not too expensive; I paid less than $200 for the five days, two of which were “long” trips). He loves his country and heritage, he knows what he’s showing you, he’s flexible, he gives you enough ice water to keep you hydrated, and he’s just a good guy. (He even bought me a birthday cake for cryin’ out loud…) Anyway, I highly recommend Mao. You can find him here: www.facebook.com/mao.khvan (or on Trip Advisor: www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g297390-d10726821-R... )
Now that shameless plugs and other assorted rhetoric are out of the way, it’s time to get on to the temples, ruins, and other miscellany.
Today is really the excuse that I used to come back to Siem Reap for a week. Mao was nice enough not to schedule any other customers for today since it’s my 43rd birthday, and also for Saturday. (Another reason, I think, is that I wanted to see all of the non-major sites and most everyone else is only interested in the major ones. So…thanks to Mao for giving up a few bucks from others just to make sure I got to see all that I wanted these two days.)
Mao came to pick me up around 10:00 in the morning with his wife and adorable daughter. Today, we pretty much followed the small loop tour that we did yesterday (and that most tourists do). However, we skipped every spot from yesterday (Banteay Kdei, Ta Prohm’s main temple, Ta Keo, Thommanon, Chao Say Tevoda, Bayon) and opted for the others along the same route.
The first stop of the morning was Prasat Kravan. This is a particularly interesting – and small – temple that consists mainly of one building with a central tower, but five chambers lined up in a row. Prasat Kravan was built in the early 10th century (consecrated in 921) and is built of brick. It was built during the short reign of Harshavarman I. The name is the modern name (though I don’t know the original name) and means “cardamom sanctuary,” for a tree that once stood here. From an architectural standpoint, what is most interesting – and what caught my attention – is the brick bas-reliefs here. They are the only known representation of these in Khmer art and are reason alone to visit here. The central tower has a statue of Vishnu and the northernmost has a statue of his consort, Lakshmi.
After 15-20 minutes at Prasat Kravan, Mao took me to Bat Chum, which was quite near. (It wasn’t on my list, so kudos to Mao for adding a few stops that I otherwise wouldn’t have seen; as I said, the man knows the territory, and I highly recommend him to anyone who comes here.) Bat Chum is a very, very small site (under restoration, though it looks like even the restoration has been forgotten) a few hundred meters due south of Sra Srang, and a few hundred meters east of the road from Angkor Wat to Banteay Kdei. When Bat Chum was built in 960, there were houses and a Buddhist monastery nearby, which have long since vanished. This temple was built by the lone Khmer architect whose name we know: Kavindrarimathana. He also built the palace of the East Mebon and Sra Srang. This is a temple with three brick towers. There are stone lions and interesting inscriptions here as well.
From Bat Chum, we returned to the main road, skirted along the eastern and northern sides of Banteay Kdei’s outer wall, then along the southern and western sides of Ta Prohm’s outer wall. Most people enter Ta Prohm from the western gate (as evidenced by the massive throng of tuktuks here) or the eastern gate (where you will find a slew of souvenir vendors). As far as I can tell, there is no southern gate – as I imagine you’d see it flying by on the road. (Banteay Kdei does have a northern gate, though people don’t seem to stop here.) Ta Prohm does have a rather charming and rarely visited northern gate that I was unaware of. Again…thanks, Mao. Just stop on the road at the northwest corner of Ta Prohm’s outer wall and walk east along the north wall for about five minutes to find the northern gate, surrounded by jungle.
Next up on today’s tour is a very small site that, from what I know, doesn’t even have a name. (Mao didn’t even know the name of the place, so it’s just titled ‘Unnamed Site’ here.) It’s very small, almost an afterthought, but still worth a look. It’s on the road heading due north from Ta Prohm’s west gate about 100-200 meters south of where it heads to the west to Ta Keo. It’s barely 50 meters off the road, so is very easy to visit in 10 minutes or so.
Right at the point where the road takes a 90 degree turn to head west to Ta Keo, you have the option of going straight (down a fairly bumpy dirt road) to Ta Nei. This is actually a larger temple, but unlike the others nearby, it hasn’t gone under extensive restoration yet, so it isn’t visited very often. It’s 800 meters north of Ta Keo, set back in the woods, and is 200 meters west of the Eastern Baray’s western border. It was built by Jayavarman VII in the late 12th century. The highlights of coming here are simply the setting, the pediments, and the overall lack of visitors.
After half an hour or so at Ta Nei, Mao and I hopped back in the tuktuk and returned to the main road, heading west past Ta Keo before veering north and making a very quick stop at the Hospital Chapel that is 150 meters due west of Ta Keo (slightly north). This is a very quick – 5 minute – stop that interested me simply because it was/is part of a hospital that’s close to a thousand years old now. It was built by Jayavarman VII (like so many of the Angkor sites) in the late 12th century. This sandstone monument is one of four that were on site here (and, from what I’m reading, one of 102 that were found throughout the empire). Honestly, seeing this just makes me wonder about 12th century medicine. What would a Khmer hospital at the turn of the 13th century have been like?
Moving north from the Hospital Chapel, the road takes another 90 degree turn to the west. Before entering the Victory Gate of Angkor Thom, you pass Thommanon and Chao Say Tevoda (bypassed, as already mentioned), and then Spean Thma, near a bridge that crosses the Siem Reap River. (The Siem Reap River, today, is more like a gentle stream, though it was used to transport the quarried rock from Phnom Kulen to Angkor to build these massive temples a thousand years ago.) That aside, I decided to bypass Spean Thma for now.
Once inside the Victory Gate, which I mistakenly called the East Gate in May (it is on the eastern wall), we turned south on a dirt path about 100-200 meters inside Angkor Thom and traveled south, parallel to the wall. After less than 5 minutes, you arrive at the road that runs directly east from Bayon to the East Gate, otherwise known as the Slaves’ Gate or Gate of the Dead. (From the names, obviously, if anyone who didn’t belong to the royal family saw this gate…bad news for them.) According to Mao, the slaves were marched out this gate on the way to their execution. Grim history aside, it’s a rather nice gate, well-restored, with some good angles for shooting. It’s certainly worth a visit, especially since it’s so easily accessible – and there are rarely many people around.
After this quick stop, we took the road due west to the heart of Angkor Thom – Bayon – then headed up the road towards the North Gate, where the majority of Angkor Thom sites are located (just north of Bayon). Passing by Baphuon, Phimeanakas, the Elephant Terrace, Terrace of the Leper Kings (all on the west side of the main road), and the Kleangs and Suor Prat Towers (east side of the main road, with the towers being bisected by the road heading east through the Victory Gate), we turned off just north of the Terrace of the Leper Kings to the west to see Tep Pranam – very briefly – and Preah Pilalay.
Tep Pranam is simply a statue of a giant seated sandstone Buddha, still in use for worship today, that was built around the 16th century. If this were in an out-of-the-way place, it may not be worth the time. However, it’s in the heart of Angkor Thom and it’s impossible to go to Preah Pilalay without seeing it if you come by tuktuk. (This isn’t a complaint by any means; it’s rather nice.) Preah Pilalay is in the northwest section of Angkor Thom and is fairly remote (given the amount of tourists that the other nearby sites see). Its main features are a tall chimney-like structure, a few nagas, and its setting in the forest. It was built in either the 13th or 14th century, possibly by Jayavarman VIII or, perhaps, by Jayavarman VII. It’s about 200 meters north of the royal enclosure (Phimeanakas). Some of the larger trees that used to tower over the temple have been hewn resulting in a very different feel. However, it was a pleasant side trip.
Hopping back in the tuktuk and going directly across the road, the last stop for the day inside Angkor Thom was the Preah Pithu group. This is a collection of five temples/ruins in the northeastern section of Angkor Thom that is in a delightful wooded setting. If you can see them in early morning or late afternoon, you should get some wonderful lighting. You can spend as little as 15 minutes here or as much as an hour or two. They probably weren’t designed to be one cohesive group, though it’s not possible to say with certainty. They were built in the 13th century. (Though I mention this as the last stop, I’ve also included the North Kleang and Northern Suor Prat Towers here. Though I didn’t explore those in depth, I am giving them their own set here – Kleangs and Suor Prat Towers.)
On the way out of Angkor Thom, via the South Gate, we stopped outside the moat for a few pictures. Directly south of Angkor Thom are a few temples that I wanted to see: Thma Bay Kaek, Prasat Bei, and Baksei Chamkrong.
We visited them in that order. Thma Bay Kaek is nearest the road about 50 meters southwest of the bridge over the southern moat. All that remains here are the ruins of a square brick tower. It’s probably the remains of one of many temples that were here in the Bakheng area. It was built in the 10th century by Yasovarman I.
About a five minute walk - -if that – due west of Thma Bay Kaek is Prasat Bei (“Three Towers”). Unlike Thma Bay Kaek, these towers are still standing, so obviously, slightly more photogenic. They would probably be best photographed in early morning. The trees block it from the west in late afternoon. It, too, was built by Yasovarman I in the 10th century.
The last of the three temples in this area, Baksei Chamkrong, is the most impressive of the three. It’s from the early and middle 10th century (rededicated in 948) and was built by Harshavarman. This is a pyramid temple at the foot of Phnom Bakheng. The name means “the bird with sheltering wings,” though – like most temples here – this is a modern appellation that the builders wouldn’t have recognized. This tower is a single brick tower on a pyramidal base.
Finally, to finish up the day, Mao dropped me at Phnom Bakheng. It’s about a 20 minute walk up the hill around a winding path. This is considered to be one of the best places to watch sunset over Angkor Wat because of its panoramic view from the peak of the hill. However, everyone knows this, and this is the only place all day that was too crowded for my liking. In addition to its being under restoration to the point of making it a bit of an eyesore (for the time being), it was easily my least favorite place of the entire day. After waiting in line for 20 minutes and barely moving an inch, I decided to call it a day, taking 1-2 pictures (that you see here), and heading back down the hill.
Mao had disappeared into the throngs of people eating at restaurants. Fortunately for me, he spotted me. On the way back to the guesthouse, he stopped and picked up a birthday cake which we shared with the folks who happened to be at the guesthouse. All in all, it was a wonderful birthday. Tomorrow, too, would be just me and would include the lesser-visited sites on the Grand Tour Loop, in addition to 1-2 others.
As always, I hope you enjoy this set. I appreciate you taking time to look. If you have any questions, please feel free to send me a message or leave it via comment.
We offer outstanding pike fishing in our remote lakes because of the amazing vitality in our area and our careful fisheries management and care with catch and release policy in effect on many of our lakes. It seem as though the best trophy size northern pike fishing pictures seem to get bigger every year!
Located in a remote, wooded valley 20km south of Carcassonne, the simple and largely unaltered abbey church dates to the end of the 12th century.
Rieunette Abbey was one of the first abbeys of Cistercian nuns in France, founded in the 11th or early 12th century. In 1432 the abbey was placed under the protection of the abbots of Villelongue and was a prosperous community of forty nuns. During the Wars of Religion, from 1528, the abbey was deserted, looted several times, then burned down in 1568.
Resettled in the Cité de Carcassonne , the community experienced a slow decline until 1761 when the abbey was suppressed by the bishop and the nuns transferred to the Gers priory of the Bernardines of Lombez.
In 1998 the Cistercian's of the abbey of Boulaur (Gers) revived the abbey since when a small community has lived there.
Remote Site Incubator used by Montana Fish and Wildlife Conservation Office biologists to restore Arctic Grayling populations within Red Rock Lakes National Wildlife Refuge, Montana. The Fisheries Division of the US Fish and Wildlife Service has been co-managing this unique population of Arctic Grayling for nearly 2 decades.
Photo: Glenn Boltz / USFWS
A product type pic of my 900 pointed at our system. This was 2 pics both shot after each other, one with the remote in (resting on a tripod), and the other without....so I was then able to cut out the tripod afterwards and make the remote 'float'. Shot in natural daylight.
I then created a vector of the Harmony logo for a bit of geekiness lol. This is my homage to the 900. Best remote I've owned to date..... :)