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Souvenirs du France jour 11
And... we have reached the Castle!
The Château de Beynac is a castle situated in the commune of Beynac-et-Cazenac, in the Dordogne département of France. The castle is one of the best-preserved and best known in the region.
This Middle Ages construction, with its austere appearance, is perched on top of a limestone cliff, dominating the town and the north bank of the Dordogne.
At the left, somewhere between, is where I live.
~These flowers are for you my friends for all your wonderful comments and invites! ~
another from the archive
I little process not excessive and voila..
looks like black velvet to me...
We had coerced Niles to stop at the local markets. It was close the end of Ramazan and he was fasting. He had 8 hours of driving ahead of him and he was reluctant to stop, but we insisted. I love going to local markets, the hustle and bustle, the smells of spices and fresh vegetables and engaging with real people.
Niles was a Moroccan, once married to an English woman, now divorced and living in Spain. He was our driver for two weeks in Morocco. He sauntered around the market place in his signature red jumper, although it wasn’t cold and his cream trousers which were hanging more and more loosely everyday from his fasting.
He took us to the back of the market area where the donkeys were all lined up.
“Car park” he smiled, laughing at his own joke. And it was then, that a little boy ran up to me and thrust his hand into mine and didn’t let go.
His fingers were malformed, like tiny plantain bananas. He was dirty and all I could think was I’d left my antiseptic hand-wash in the car.
I looked down and his little face beamed up at me. His eyes reflected a mind that wasn’t too bright and there was green slime under his nose. He told me his name, but I had trouble understanding him as he had a hair-lip. Niles translated. His name was Hussein.
We returned to the markets and he paraded me around all the stalls. Piles of olives were spread out on cloths on the ground, fresh vegetables spilling over wooden tressles and bees buzzing around mountains of syrupy pastries. The women waved, and called out to him and he boasted to them that I was his friend. Shafts of light fell across shadowy doorways and veiled women passed me, eyeing me curiously, my blue eyes, my fair skin, my blonde hair, my arms brazenly on show and a grubby little boy by my side.
He was a King and I was his Queen. Niles padded quietly behind us. The inscruitable Niles. He indulged us in our whimseys, but I think he was longing for his life back in Malaga. He seemed unsure of us. Once, we all went to a night club and we danced, and he drank Scotch. But that was just once.
As we were leaving the markets, Niles bought a soccer ball for Hussein. It was flat and deflated and Hussein put it on his head like a hat and made a silly dance. The other kids laughed at him. And as we drove off he he ran along next to our car waving and smiling.
We’d only made half way around the central square, when I called out to Niles to stop. Already the older boys had taken the ball off him and were taunting him.
We drove back and collected Hussein and took him to a place where we could inflate the ball. Niles wrote “Hussan” on the ball in big black letters.
Hussein grabbed the ball and ran away. I could tell even from behind he was still smiling.
But sadly, it would only be a matter of time, before the ball would be taken from him again.
Identifier: hungary00stok
Title: Hungary
Authors: Stokes, Adrian, 1854-1935 Stokes, Marianne
Subjects:
Publisher: London : A. and C. Black
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto
View Book Page: Book Viewer
About This Book: Catalog Entry
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Text Appearing Before Image:
gohere. Of course we cant go there, are remarkswe have sometimes overheard, without being ableto find a reason for the unwritten law. Many ladies were in the garden when we arrived,and how lovely in their delicate summer clothes !Where in the capitals of Europe would you findsuch pure comple.xions, such beauty of feature andof hair, such graceful figures, more perfect breedingcombined with winning manners, or more con-summate taste in dress ? The prevailing typewas neither brunette nor blonde, but somewherebetween the two. The men were extremely smart and dressed inthe latest cosmopolitan fashion. We were taken to call on a famous sculptor,whose studios in a small park are among severalgiven by the State to artists of distinction; andthen we started for the heart of the country. A year or two before we went to Hungary, whilestaying at a watering-place in South Tyrol, we, atdifferent times, made the acquaintance—whichripened later into friendship—of two people. One A HUNGARIAN BABY
Text Appearing After Image:
FROM AUSTRIA TO ORSOVA 9 was a lady of high aristocratic birth, who shallbe known in these pages as the Grafin; theother, a dignitary of the Roman Catholic Church,shall be called, until he became a Bishop, thePrelate. Both were Hungarians ; both were surewe should find much to interest us and topaint in their country; and both invited us tovisit them. Our first visit was to the Grafin and her daughterin Budapest. We left there one fine hot morningin June in a crowded train, and an uneventfuljourney of about four hours, across the plainssouthwards, brought us to Kalocsa. The Prelate was at the station, and we drove intwo ramshackle open cabs for a mile or so, over apaved but very dusty road, to his fine old house hardby the Cathedral—a house of two stories, pale yellowochre in colour, with a great roof of brown-greytiles. In a niche over the doorway was a pictureof the Madonna, and above that the arms of thearchbishopric in stucco. The main doors were thrown open, and thesmiling sist
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I got into photographic stride during this walk, first time in many, many months. A pity it was my second-last night in Japan.
I like Osaka. A lot. Tokyo is fun and all, but Osaka just seems a bit more relaxed, a bit dirtier, a bit friendlier. My kind of town.
Grazie mille for interest everyone!..Notice that all of you have commenting about how tall is the dune!!?! (yep! :)!) and so I decided to upload also this one. Maybe isnt so special but maybe helps you more to feel the high. Consider that here I arrive at the point where I was able to see the top of dune (almost arrived, so not the start) and look at how distance people are...yes is enormous! And also the longness of the place, you can see it in the second one; even if here where I was there isnt pinewood or straw fences to contain sand anymore and so dune where free to make curves, go down vertiginously, space everywhere...soooooooo happy to have discovered this place so special..!..:)..
my fave of the place, ok..tomorrow :P :)!
Have a nice day!
*Starlight*
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Grazie mille a tutti per l'interesse! Ho notato che tutti avete commentato su quanto fossero alte le dune!?!! (embè :)!), così ho deciso di inserire anche queste foto. Non sono così speciali ma magari vi aiutano a darvene un senso. Considerate che quì sono arrivata al punto di scorgerne la cima della duna (e quindi non all'inizio della scalata ma pressochè la fine) e guardate quanto sono distanti le persone!!..Si veramente enormi ! E anche la lunghezza di esse che potete vedere nella seconda foto; anche se dove ero io non c'era più ne pineta ne steccati di paglia per contenere le dune, libere di curvare, scendere vertiginosamente, spaziare ovunque... Così felice per aver trovato questo posto così speciale! :))..(altro che Licia Colò..grazie born :D!).
la mia foto preferita, ok domani! :P! :)!
Buona giornata a tutti !
*Starlight*