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The Sentinel viewed from the top of Chapmans Peak Drive with The Karbonkleberg in the background.
This became my 100th image that made EXPLORE.
Pensacola Beach Fishing Pier
Florida
© 2011 Kevin Barry, All Rights Reserved.
This photo may not be used in any form without written permission from the photographer.
This is one of my favorite shots taken in recent months. If you do not also love it, then I hate you!
To see more of my work, go to www.kevinbarryphotos.com
There are dozens of different types of gags, almost nothing has the naughtiness quotient of panties.. but bit gags?...The places they can take you...
Entirely hand made.
Buy it on etsy: www.etsy.com/listing/67683212/spiked-leather-bit-gag
about de Sade: www.flickr.com/people/desadecollection/
All photos Copyright deSadeCollection 2011.
With a lot off clag, 66565 pulls out of the up loop at Drem with 6M00, Oxwellmains - Bredbury via Millerhill, empty GMC waste train. 7/6/14 at 1145
Bhutan is not a country that is generally well known. If asked, most people might say that it lies somewhere in the Himalayas and is a bit hilly. If pressed, they might think of yaks and snow leopards and rhododendrons, or maybe know it as the land where development is measured in terms of Gross National Happiness rather than Gross Domestic Privation.
And in fact, this latter characteristic most fits with my experiences of this mountainous kingdom – the happiness of the people stands out a mile. In the short time that I was there I cannot recall a frown or a curse or even so much as a tiny disagreement. Even the use of the car horn is limited to polite little peeps or playful messages sent to pretty girls as they saunter along the pavement. It is such a gentle society.
It’s also an equal and an emancipated one. Women are first in line to inherit following the death of their parents; it is they who get the house and the property and the rights, not the son (whether he’s older or not). Women can have as many spouses as men. Women are very forthright when it comes to flirting: within a couple of hours at my first hotel I was invited to a dance that evening and asked if I wanted to marry one of the waitresses. I didn’t take advantage of either offer but, given the beauty of the women here, I was sorely tempted. They really are extremely lovely – slim and wiggly bodies, velvety black hair that never seems to grey, wonderful dimpled smiles, and eyes that just penetrate into the heart of you.
They seem to be a very sexually liberated lot (well, that’s one way of calling it). My guide, Kinlay, was forever talking about his girlfriends (even though he’s married with two sons), hanky-panky (but no spanky, perhaps that was pushing revelations a mite too far given that I’d only just met him), and jiggy-jiggy (or, in local parlance, ‘jeggy-jeggy’), or shouting, ‘Charimdumaray’ (‘You’re lovely’) through the window at any passing female. But then he’s very young, he’s in his thirties … Or maybe he’s just trying to live up to the reputation of his namesake, Lama Drukpa Kunley (1455-1529), aka ‘The Divine Madman’, a saint who had the MO of driving out demons by means of excessive drinking and fornication which sounds a perfectly valid and jolly method of exorcism to me. His signature, a big phallus , now adorns many buildings throughout the area – a sign to ward off evil and protect the household. I wonder how this would go down with the good citizens of Ayr?
Many people still revere His Mad Divineship / Holy Madness and consequently many people have been given his name (or that of the temple that was dedicated to him, ‘Chimey Lhakhang’). The first two people I met in Bhutan were called Kunley. Then the third (who was confusingly a woman ) turned out to be a Kunley too. And so was the fourth. I gave up asking after that.
Bhutan is now a constitutional monarchy since the present king relinquished absolute rule in 2008. Like a 21 year old with the keys to life, the new democracy is revelling in its liberation, independence and autonomy and is enjoying furnishing its own flat and buying its own clothes and food. But at the same time it looks up to the person who granted it its freedom, and the whole country remains loyal and truly affectionate towards the Royal Family.
The king (31, Pisces - they like such details here) married his young betrothed (21, Virgo ) on the 13th October. Every shop had photos of the couple posted outside and inside, decorated with ribbons in the colours of the Buddha – blue (for the sky), white (for the clouds), red (for fire), green (for water) and yellow (for the soil). Huge banners adorned hillsides and town gates. Radio programmes were filled with callers wishing the happy pair a long, fruitful, loving union. And as I watched the wedding in a restaurant in Paro , with the assembled masses in the crowds and in the organised dances that must have taken weeks to rehearse, and thought that there could not be a single person in the nation who was not either at the ceremony or who was not glued to the TV, it occurred to me that this was what it must have been like with QEII 50 years ago . How long will this state of innocent bliss last?
Maybe for a long time yet. Not only is this a peaceful society (I never once felt threatened) but it’s also relatively prosperous, well organised, and, crucially and in a real way, it actually is a society. It is not a collection of individuals out to benefit for themselves. This is one big nation of people (about 650 000 of them) who believe they are part of a larger community of family, friends and neighbours. The neighbours may be from the east of the country (300 miles away and effectively 2 days travelling) who speak another dialect and wear different clothes, but they are still part of the same community.
Free education for all plays an important role in levelling classes and bringing people together. The king (apparently) lives in a ‘cottage’ and he is certainly one who puts much effort in meeting and greeting. The ceremony he attended in Thimpu, after the wedding, lasted from 0900 to 1700 and for a lot of that time he was moving amongst the crowds, shaking hands and speaking with (not ‘to’ – I don’t think he’s a Charlie. ‘And what do you do?’ – probably isn’t his stock, opening gambit) virtually everyone there.
Communities work in unison to improve the environment and their own lives. They harvest the rice together, it’s a communal thing. Often I saw small congregations on the hillside, burning juniper as incense, intoning incantations, chanting with monks. Several times I saw parties of villagers or school children walking along the roadside picking up litter. The land is free of piles of rubbish. This is a clean country. The drains and rivers are not open sewers. Not once did I see a rat.
Smoking was banned recently. It’s an offence to smoke – you could be imprisoned. For grass it’s up to three years for possession and 9 years for dealing. This was the first country to outlaw plastic bags too. Unfortunately, however, for both fags and bags neither law is strictly enforced and both are commonly (if expensively for the former) available.
But Bhutan is not Shangri La. In 1999 TV was introduced for the first time. Now the two favourite programmes are World Federation Wrestling from the USA, and ‘Bhutan Idol’ (the third series) – it was this programme that Kinlay said would prevent me from watching any footie on TV in the bars. ‘Idol’ was that popular! Everyone now has a TV and there is a good link between the growth in its distribution and the incidence of crime in the country.
Mobile phones came in in 2003 (so my guide said) and they are now ubiquitous. Young people have adopted the global practice of meeting up and then spending all the time texting and / or phoning other friends elsewhere. That’s when they can stop blowing bubble gum for long enough to say anything. One person I met had a sophisticated ring tone system that alerted him to whoever was trying to contact him: his wife’s ring tone was his young son’s crying and gurgling; his mate’s tone was an extract from his favourite blue movie accompanied by the obligatory image of a busty brunette.
The people like to dress up for occasions (like the festival – Tseschu – in Thimpu) with their finest national gear: beautiful, iridescent, brightly coloured silk dresses for the women; rather more subdued but still unique skirts and knee-high stockings for the men. When visiting national monuments (such as museums, temples, dzongs ) or events they have to dress in national costume. But these days, for normal everyday wear, they tend far more towards the boring western norm of t-shirts and jeans and track-suits (usually with ‘Man Utd’ written on them. Damn their souls!). There was a great contrast between the clothes worn to the formal Tseschu festival and the far less formal singalong in Thimpu town square – colourful, vibrant, exciting of the exotic compared with the dull, drab, grey and black of the mundane (and the future).
Traditional sports seem to be holding their own against the overwhelming and inexorable influence of football . Archery is something the Bhutanese are especially good at having won medals of all colours at recent Olympics. These days they employ carbon composite bows for main competitions. Traditional bows of bamboo are still found and used but mainly to simply maintain the tradition. The target is a wooden board about 40cm high and usually 140m from the archer. No wonder they’re good at it.
Darts (not the UK variety) – about 15cm long consisting of a 3cm metal point, a wooden shaft and 5cm feathers – is also played at weekends. The ‘court’ is longer than a cricket pitch and the target is a 30cm wooden board with a bulls-eye near the top. A wall of earth or concrete backdrops the target, really just a sop to health and safety. They are not overly concerned with H&S, which is healthy.
For both archery and darts, the opposing team (all wearing fine traditional skirts ) line up alongside the target and watch intently as the projectile is released and heads towards them. The observers’ reaction time for the darts is far less than that for archery. I think I was happier watching the archery. When a dart or arrow actually hits the board it triggers a mediaeval ritual of chanting and dancing by both of the teams, in praise of the gods for such a blessing. If only our supporters and ‘sportsmen’ took win and loss in the same spirit.
There are cars in Bhutan as well. Not many of them because there aren’t that many people. They are in good condition and few of them send out blasts of poisonous black smoke. I saw my first privately-owned electric car here. They are generally new (the favourites being Hyundais and Toyota) and without any dents. Motorbikes are rare and tuc-tucs are entirely absent (which is such a relief!). Roads (maintained and built by Indians, and funded by the RoI government) are largely pothole-free and gloriously smooth. It still takes a long time to get anywhere because of the winding nature of the terrain, but at least it’s almost painless.
But, of course, this road system comes at a cost. Gangs of Indians, thousands of them, have been imported and have set up semi-permanent residence in Bhutan (without citizen rights, of course) and their sole employment, occupation and raison d’etre is road building and repair. They work very long hours (0600 to 1600 hrs) for a pittance. Their tools are mainly their hands: hauling large stones over cliffs or onto lorries. Primitive implements are provided: back bent double as they use pathetic brushes to sweep the road; women shovelling sand and gravel and throwing it through sieves. Some (men as well as women) actually break rocks with hammers, all day long, like a work detail from a ‘40s state penitentiary, a modern day chain-gang. These gangs have their own settlements and schools; they are separate from mainstream Bhutanese society. But they don’t seem to be discriminated or prejudiced against. There is, at least, no bigotry in Bhutan.
Except perhaps against the Nepalese. This is not talked about, but many Bhutanese who originated in Nepal (two or three or more generations back) were forcibly deported in the ‘90s (?) and now reside in refugee camps in Nepal. I met only one person whose ancestors came from Nepal but he seemed contented and calm. He might have said more but we’d been caught up in a delay caused by a landslide and the obstruction had just been removed so we had to move on. 11 days is not enough in Bhutan.
You might think that a Buddhist democracy consisting of less than three quarters of a million people might not need or, especially, want an army. How could they justify killing? And anyway, what could their paltry population hope to accomplish against the might of the Indians or Chinese if they chose to invade ? But it’s a career path to some (Kinlay considered it after university (in Chennai) if tourism didn’t work out), and for others the army really is a necessity.
Earlier in the noughties there was some trouble with Assamese rebels. They had occupied some of the forests of the duars in Bhutan (just across the border) and were causing problems (not with the locals – the Assamese were generous with their payment for goods – but with the (Indian?) politicians). Negotiations with the rebels were not successful and so the Bhutanese government sent in the troops. This resulted in the insurgents being ousted but at the cost of 12 Bhutanese soldiers being killed. The effects of this battle / war seems to have become deeply embedded within the psyche of the Bhutanese; a large memorial (at Dochu La consisting of 108 chortens) was established to commemorate the conflict and one of the on-going repercussions is that the army are more popular than ever. Not that it would ever sink to the depths of the Burmese army and become a junta. That would be unthinkable.
So the army is needed . But what about religious or moral objections, after all Costa Rica doesn’t have a standing army so surely a strict Buddhist nation could do without one? But then the Bhutanese love meat. They are devout devourers of pork and beef and, to a slightly lesser extent, chicken? So long as they don’t have to kill the animals themselves they are happy to consume flesh.
Do I hear calls of ‘Hypocracy’? Well, I’m not going to shout them down.
But all religions are institutionally hypocritical and Buddhism is no worse than any other. An army of a Buddhist nation sounds contradictory but religion has always been political, nations are essentially political beasts with artificial boundaries, politicians need to maintain and protect those boundaries as well as they can given limited resources, and armies are the main way of providing protection.
At least this army is not there to violate other nations or supress the population or support an unauthorised government. It provides comfort and a sense of security, a source of pride, and a life for many people. Who am I to criticise it?
The trekking in Bhutan was far better than in Nepal (although Nepal was good). Here it was proper camping, there it was in Guesthouses. Nepal is over-populated, there is no getting away from people; waves of trekkers (ramblers) met you head on along the Poon Hill circuit; football crowds gathered to catch the dawn view of Annapurna; dogs, locals, cows, agricultural terraces … they all swarm and cover the slopes of Nepal.
But in Bhutan … ah, it’s different. I met perhaps 10 other trekkers on my 5 day stint. Yes, there were monks and the occasional dog, but mainly it was me in the wild, in untouched, blue pine forests and stands of huge or dwarf rhodies and junipers and alpine meadows of the highest hills. Alongside the soft beats of the wings of the goshawk, and ‘glowps’ of ravens, and cheeky cawings of choughs there was the whisper of winds and ripple of drying leaves. No sounds of machinery. No barking . No drunken laughter . It was heaven.
Of course I was spoilt. Apart from the landscape, and the views, and the sky and the clouds, and the wildlife and the vegetation, I had a platoon of (for wont of a better word ) servants to look after my every needs. I had my own chef, and he had a helper. I had a guide who made sure I didn’t fall down a cliff or take the wrong path. I had a horseman who looked after the seven ponies that accompanied our small expedition. The only person I lacked was a masseur (which, incidentally, was what I really needed).
They erected my tent and decamped for me. They cooked me three meals a day and washed up after me. I was served at my table and they even ran off to buy beer for me . They set up my own private lav, provided loo paper, and filled the hole in after me. My guide even carried my water bottle. They did everything for me except tuck me in at night (for which I was grateful).
It was hard walking, some of the slopes were steep, and it was bloody cold at night. I met a couple of Aussies on the second day and, after I remarked how bloody cold it was the previous night (not that I was fixated or anything), they said, ‘Well, it gets colder. There was frost on the ground two nights ago.’ I said, ‘Great. Good job my sleeping bag isn’t as good as I thought it was (and the zip’s broken), and that I forgot my socks.’ They said, ‘You forgot your socks?! Are you mad?’ I didn’t say anything. ‘But you’re from Scotland, right?’ ‘Aye,’ I said, ‘You’ll be fine then.’ They were nice people but they could afford to be because they’d survived the ordeal and were now heading back to civilisation. They had had socks. Smug bastards. Nice people though.
Ten minutes later, as I was watching a huge thanka being unfolded by the Phajoding monks, the lady (to my shame I never did get to know her name) ran up to me and offered, like a true Buddhist using both hands, a pair of socks. ‘They’re a day and a half old,’ she said, ‘but they’ll save your life!’ I didn’t know what to say so I kept repeating, like the simpleton John Miles played in ‘Ryan’s Daughter’, ‘Thank you, thank you.’ I refrained from saying ‘God bless’, but I was genuinely touched (in more ways than one) and didn’t even have the sense to ask for their address so that I could send them back to Oz. Which was just as well. But I would have had them washed.
And the socks really were a Godsend. Never before have I held so much regard for footware. They (along with the extra blanket supplied by chef) actually made the next three nights bearable (just. There was still the issue of the bells and the thin mattress). Thanks Australia ;-)
Overall, you might think that a minimum of $200 a day to visit and exist in Bhutan is a lot of money. And it is. No argument. But … this money covers everything apart from incidentals such as snacks and souvenirs , and so, although it’s expensive, it’s not that expensive and is, actually, when it comes down to it, damned good value for money. Outside of Bhutan, how much would it cost to have what they provided me? A personal guide (just for little old me) who answers most of the inane and arcane questions I usually pose to myself or strangers (who aren’t good at responding. Either of them) and panders to almost my every whim My own transport (so I can say, ‘Why don’t we go down this wee road?’, ‘Can we just stop here for a minute to take a photo’, and ‘STOP! There’s a bird I haven’t seen, I’m sure of it. Might be new to science too. Come on, we’ll be famous!’ ) My your own private expeditionary force to conquer the Himalayas? The chance to stay in top class hotels (with clean, unstained sheets and electrics that work. Luxury). To have all your meals provided for you (most of them excellent). And to have the flexibility to be able to change itinerary and venues / hotels depending on how you feel … and all this amongst the beauty, serenity and unspoilt splendour of a country which is Bhutan …
Well, what can I say? It’s not a perfect country, but it comes damned close to it.
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Full video on SML Universe YouTube: www.youtube.com/watch?v=PT4W0TkGy68
The instruments we use changes the way we play. The track was recorded and played live directly on the iPad using Orphion’s “3rds Matrix” grid.
The natural position of my right hand touches A4 and A#4. The natural position of my left hand touches F4 and D4. By shifting my hands a note to the left and to the top right, I get RH: F4 F#4 LH: C#4 A#3 and then RH: A#4 B4 LH: F#4 D#4.
The whole song are essentially repeated notes of the following
1L: D4 F4 1R: A4 A#4
2L: A#3 C#4 2R: F4 F#4
3L: D#4 F#4 3R: A#4 B4
I don't know what key these are in. I just play. And so while as a classically trained pianist I am conscious of the notes and key signature when I play on a conventional keyboard, Orphion’s seemingly illogical layout renders some nice experimental results which I enjoy.
I use the in-app recorder to record my live playing which I then email myself as an M4A file. The file is then placed into Ableton Live where I manually wrap my human-playing into something which sounds somewhat on time — though obviously the nice rubato are lost. I will work on getting something that is less machine like perhaps.
Then I layered some repeated tracks, and added some ping pong to the piece to give it some nuance together with some Lexicon reverb goodness. Mastered with Ozone 5 and voila.
24-bit 48kHz WAV download:
SML SoundCloud: sml8.it/ToyppS
Album: Bits + Pieces
Video: H264 MP4, 1920x1080, 24fps, Progressive, 8 Mbps
Audio: AAC, 320 kbps, 48 kHz, Stereo
Length: 1 min 43 sec
Size: 14 MB
License: CCBY: Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported
Date: 2012-12-29 (recorded) 2012-12-29 (processed)
Music: See-ming Lee 李思明, SML Music
Media Production: SML Universe
Copyright: CCBY 2012 See-ming Lee 李思明 / SML Music / SML Universe Limited
/ SML.20121229.Music.OrphionPingPong.005
/ SML.20121229.Music.OrphionPingPong.005.1920x1080p.h264.mp4
/ #ccby #seeminglee #smlmusic #smluniverse #smlprojects
/ #Orphion #AbletonLive #iPad #music #Lexicon #PSP #iPad #apps #iZotope #Ozone5 #ping #pong #album #cover #bits #pieces #design #branding
There are dozens of different types of gags, almost nothing has the naughtiness quotient of panties.. but bit gags?...The places they can take you...
Entirely hand made:
Buy it on etsy: www.etsy.com/listing/67683212/spiked-leather-bit-gag
about de Sade: www.flickr.com/people/desadecollection/
All photos Copyright deSadeCollection 2011.
Bit of background on this model - I purchased the Belle Brickheadz when I saw the printed dress piece would make great boiler stripes on a locomotive.
Looking through my parts library, I discovered I had the arch I used for my Trojan model in BLY, and I went from there.
Currently trying to decide on a gray or black running board
Stylish Mens Dress Shoes - Mr Angel Shoes, stylish shoes for men. See full range at bit.ly/1ehVIwL Our shoe designers and craftsmen are highly trained and experienced. We use only the latest proven materials for style, comfort and longevity when designing and constructing our Men's Leather Dress Shoes. Mens shoes from Mr Angel Shoes will last the distance and deliver excellent value for money. Men's Shoes Kick Off Summer Fashion with Comfortable Men's Shoes Fashionable men always wear the correct men's shoes that are a perfect match to a gentleman's outfit. Few things look stranger, or less fashionable, than improper footwear. We have all seen the gentleman on vacation in winter to a warmer climate; he is wearing a Jack Nicklaus Golf Shirt and sharp Dockers cargo shorts. That he is not in his element, is revealed by black dress socks and Johnston & Murphy brogues. While the brogues are ideal with a suit, they are a misfit with shorts. The better choice: sockless with Sperry Topsider boat shoes or short socks with a comfortable sneaker from Nike. Men's shoes by Kevin Cole or Clark's best identify summer casual wear. Slip ons, commonly called loafers are ideal for wearing with Khaki's and out shirts - comfort clothing in warm weather. Both Kevin Cole and Clarks make men's shoes that men wear with or without socks. They always give off a vibe of good taste and comfort. The walk to the beach from the beach house requires the well-dressed man to have a comfortable and sturdy pair of sandals. Flip flops are for kids. A male who wishes to make a good impression opts for leather sandals that stay on the foot by more than toe separator. Sandal makers such as Calvin Klein, Teva, Timberland, and Dockers are just a few that quickly come to mind. One of the latest trends in men's shoes is driving shoes. Driving shoes are comfortable with soft leather uppers and soles that are rubberized cross pieces that run from the heel to the toe box. Designers known for driving shoes include Cole Haan, Salvatore Ferragamo, Billy Reid, and Prada Driving Shoe (Men) which are only available at Nordstrom. Things to Avoid If you want your shoe to appear to be leather, buy leather shoes. Man-made composite shoe uppers do not last well in summer weather and they are uncomfortable, as they do not allow foot sweat to evaporate. However, athletic shoes may be excused from this rule as the engineered materials used in them are designed for comfort. Some boat shoes may be made of canvass - this too is acceptable. Summer is a time of comfort; try to avoid lace up shoes. Unless you plan to ride a motorcycle or a horse, avoid boots. There is no place for house slippers as part of your public wardrobe. Tips for Stylish Men's Shoes Good men's shoes can be expensive. But, classic shoes of any style never lose their appeal. Men who are just starting out and developing a wardrobe including shoes should buy as many luxurious shoes as they can comfortably afford. Keeping these shoe investments well maintained and polished will extend their lives by many years. Buy less expensive stylish shoes that you can get one or two seasons of wear from for the styles, you did not first buy. As they need replacement, your wallet will not take as big a hit. Shoes are a necessity, they are an accessory, they must be comfortable and look good. Whether you dress preppy, casual or more formal, your shoes attest to your fashion sense. MyReviewsNow.net offers information regarding men's shoes. For more on comfortable shoes, please visit us at MyReviewsNow.net. Article Source: bit.ly/12J6aaq Article Source: bit.ly/1aL4yiD
Just a bit of news , I had to take Gordon to St Georges Hospital in Tooting on Friday as his Left eye was blood red instead of the usual white , We had to wait in A & E for nearly 6 Hours to be seen, Due to short staff numbers and high volume of patients trying to get seen! Eventually a nurse looked in his Eye and said She diddent think he would have to worry as it was just a Subconjunctival Haemorhage. So we were glad to get out of the Hospital & rode into Wimbledon and had Afternoon Tea in Ely's Rooftop Restaurant then rode home to Putney Heath, then on Saturday we went to Put Exchange for coffee and Shopping and I took this pic as soon this section with its Iconic Crystal Elevators Etc will be demolished to turn this section into a plain everyday atrium with nothing but humdrum ordinary shops, I think its sacrilege to ruin the slender columns with the two Crystal Lifts, Hugs from Terry the HOT COP BOI, Happy Sunday!
The iconic front end design of Kenneth Grange on HST power car 43082 at Derby Etches Park open day
13th September 2014.
A bit noisy but it was the best I could manage in the horrible lighting conditions. I know the sun is up there somewhere ...
Bald Eagles Nesting in New Jersey
“The Rebound in the Garden State”
New Jersey was once home to more than 20 pairs of nesting Bald eagles (Haliaeetus leucocephalus). As a result of the use of the pesticide DDT, the number of nesting pairs of Bald eagles in the state declined to only one by 1970 and remained at one into the early 1980's. Use of DDT was banned in 1972. That ban combined with restoration efforts by biologists within the NJ Division of Fish and Wildlife's Endangered and Nongame Species Program (ENSP) acted to increase the number of New Jersey Bald eagles to 119 active pairs in 2013 and 177 young produced.
A couple of lenses and my little camera blower accompanied by my monopod!
Flickr Lounge - Saturday Theme (Week 44) ~ Camera Accessories ....
Thanks to everyone who views this photo, adds a note, leaves a comment and of course BIG thanks to anyone who chooses to favourite my photo .... thanks to you all.
More details from my walk in Glasgow Necropolis yesterday.
My goodness that old Canon 1.8 50mm is sharp. I should use it more often.
Here are bits from a SPOT Connect, highlighted in Baudline with a transform size of 1024.
A million thanks to Mike Ossmann for showing me the trick that makes this work.
A bit windy today, first thing this morning was a bit wild, and by late afternoon the wind speed is winding up again.
Dunnet Bay, Caithness, Scotland.
A regular polygon apparently. Pre-decimal coins which I found sewn into the bottom of old curtains as weights.
The Evergreen Line’s massive tunnel boring machine is making its way to B.C. from the manufacturer in Ontario. The machine will build the two-kilometre tunnel that will run west of Barnet Highway in Port Moody to south of Kemsley Avenue in Coquitlam.
Due to its size and weight, the tunnel boring machine is being shipped in pieces from Ontario and will be assembled at a specially built launch site on the west side of the Barnet Highway in Port Moody. Assembly will take a couple of months, with tunnel construction expected to start in February 2014. The entire tunnel boring machine is 85 metres long and 10 metres in diameter.
Learn more: www.evergreenline.gov.bc.ca/documents/TopStories/130705_H...
A bit of excitement shown by this tattoo artist when I pointed my camera in the direction of her booth.
2014 Sydney Tattoo & Body Art Expo.
Royal Hall of Industries, Moore Park Precinct, Sydney, Australia (Saturday 8 Mar 2014 @ 12:37pm)
Texture courtesy of Skeletal Mess
I’ve been wanting to take a city break in summer, rather than in the cold months for a while, so rather than heading for the Lake District for a week of toil on the fells when Jayne could get a week off, we took off from Liverpool for Paris. Flight times were nice and sociable but it meant we were on the M62 car park at a busy time in both directions – it’s a shambles! I’ve stopped over in Paris a dozen times – on my way to cycling in the Etape du Tour in the Alps or Pyrenees – and had a few nights out there. Come to think about it and we’ve spent the day on the Champs Elysees watching the final day of the Tour de France with Mark Cavendish winning. We hadn’t been for a holiday there though and it was a bit of a spur of the moment decision. Six nights gave us five and a half days to explore Paris on foot. I had a good selection of (heavy) kit with me, not wanting to make the usual mistake of leaving something behind and regretting it. In the end I carried the kit in my backpack – an ordinary rucksack – to keep the weight down, for 103 miles, all recorded on the cycling Garmin – and took 3500 photos. The little Garmin is light and will do about 15 hours, it expired towards the end of a couple of 16 hour days but I had the info I wanted by then. This also keeps the phone battery free for research and route finding – I managed to flatten that once though.
What can I say – Paris was fantastic! The weather varied from OK to fantastic, windy for a few days, the dreaded grey white dullness for a while but I couldn’t complain really. We were out around 8.30 in shorts and tee shirt, which I would swap for a vest when it warmed up, hitting 30 degrees at times, we stayed out until around midnight most nights. It was a pretty full on trip. The security at some destinations could have been a problem as there is a bag size limit to save room in the lifts etc. I found the French to be very pragmatic about it, a bag search was a cursory glance, accepting that I was lugging camera gear, not bombs around, and they weren’t going to stop a paying customer from passing because his bag was a bit over size.
We didn’t have a plan, as usual we made it up as we went along, a loose itinerary for the day would always end up changing owing to discoveries along the way. Many times we would visit something a few times, weighing the crowds and light etc. up and deciding to come back later. I waited patiently to go up the Eiffel Tower, we arrived on Tuesday and finally went up on Friday evening. It was a late decision but the weather was good, the light was good and importantly I reckoned that we would get a sunset. Previous evenings the sun had just slid behind distant westerly clouds without any golden glory. It was a good choice. We went up the steps at 7.30 pm, short queue and cheaper – and just to say that we had. The steps are at an easy angle and were nowhere near as bad as expected, even with the heavy pack. We stayed up there, on a mad and busy Friday night, until 11.30, the light changed a lot and once we had stayed a couple of hours we decided to wait for the lights to come on. This was a downside to travelling at this time of year, to do any night photography we had to stay out late as it was light until 10.30. The Eiffel Tower is incredible and very well run, they are quite efficient at moving people around it from level to level. It was still buzzing at midnight with thousands of people around. The sunset on Saturday was probably better but we spent the evening around the base of the Tower, watching the light change, people watching and soaking the party atmosphere up.
Some days our first destination was five miles away, this is a lot of road junctions in a city, the roads in Paris are wide so you generally have to wait for the green man to cross. This made progress steady but when you are on holiday it doesn’t matter too much. Needless to say we walked through some dodgy places, with graffiti on anything that stays still long enough. We were ultra-cautious with our belongings having heard the pickpocket horror stories. At every Café/bar stop the bags were clipped to the table leg out of sight and never left alone. I carried the camera in my hand all day and everywhere I went, I only popped it in my bag to eat. I would guess that there were easier people to rob than us, some people were openly careless with phones and wallets.
We didn’t enter the big attractions, it was too nice to be in a museum or church and quite a few have a photography ban. These bans make me laugh, they are totally ignored by many ( Japanese particularly) people. Having travelled around the world to see something, no one is going to stop them getting their selfies. Selfies? Everywhere people pointed their cameras at their own face, walking around videoing – their self! I do like to have a few photos of us for posterity but these people are self-obsessed.
Paris has obviously got a problem with homeless (mostly) migrants. Walk a distance along the River Seine and you will find tented villages, there is a powerful smell of urine in every corner, with the no alcohol restrictions ignored, empty cans and bottles stacked around the bins as evidence. There are families, woman living on mattresses with as many as four small children, on the main boulevards. They beg by day and at midnight they are all huddled asleep on the pavement. The men in the tents seem to be selling plastic Eiffel Tower models to the tourists or bottled water – even bottles of wine. Love locks and selfy sticks were also top sellers. There must be millions of locks fastened to railings around the city, mostly brass, so removing them will be self-funding as brass is £2.20 a kilo.
As for the sights we saw, well if it was on the map we tried to walk to it. We crossed the Periphique ring road to get to the outer reaches of Paris. La Defense – the financial area with dozens of modern office blocks – was impressive, and still expanding. The Bois de Boulogne park, with the horse racing track and the Louis Vuitton Centre was part of a 20 mile loop that day. Another day saw us in the north east. We had the dome of the Sacre Couer to ourselves, with thousands of tourists wandering below us oblivious of the entrance and ticket office under the church. Again the light was fantastic for us. We read that Pere Lachaise Cemetery or Cimitiere du Pere Lachaise was one of the most visited destinations, a five mile walk but we went. It is massive, you need a map, but for me one massive tomb is much the same as another, it does have highlights but we didn’t stay long. Fortunately we were now closer to the Canal St Martin which would lead us to Parc de la Villette. This was a Sunday and everywhere was both buzzing and chilled at the same time. Where ever we went people were sat watching the world go by, socializing and picnicking, soaking the sun up. As ever I wanted to go up on the roof of anything I could as I love taking cityscapes. Most of these were expensive compared with many places we’ve been to before but up we went. The Tour Montparnasse, a single tower block with 59 floors, 690 foot high and extremely fast lifts has incredible views although it was a touch hazy on our ascent. The Arc de Triomphe was just up the road from our hotel, we went up it within hours of arriving, well worth the visit.
At the time of writing I have no idea how many images will make the cut but it will be a lot. If I have ten subtly different shots of something, I find it hard to consign nine to the dark depths of my hard drive never to be seen again – and I’m not very good at ruthless selection – so if the photo is OK it will get uploaded. My view is that it’s my photostream, I like to be able to browse my own work at my leisure at a later date, it’s more or less free and stats tell me these images will get looked at. I’m not aiming for single stunning shots, more of a comprehensive overview of an interesting place, presented to the best of my current capabilities. I am my own biggest critic, another reason for looking at my older stuff is to critique it and look to improve on previous mistakes. I do get regular requests from both individuals and organisations to use images and I’m obliging unless someone is taking the piss. I’m not bothered about work being published (with my permission) but it is reassuringly nice to be asked. The manipulation of Flickr favourites and views through adding thousands of contacts doesn’t interest me and I do sometimes question the whole point of the Flickr exercise. I do like having access to my own back catalogue though and it gives family and friends the chance to read about the trip and view the photos at their leisure so for the time being I’m sticking with it. I do have over 15 million views at the moment which is a far cry from showing a few people an album, let’s face it, there’s an oversupply of images, many of them superb but all being devalued by the sheer quantity available.
Don’t think that it was all walking and photography, we had a great break and spent plenty of time in pavement bistros having a glass of wine and people watching. I can certainly understand why Paris is top of the travellers list of destinations
Tonight's Net Flicks offering is a shot of these two Grumman G100's - robbed of parts and engines 'at rest' at the company's Savannah facility in Georgia
The Astra's origins were the Israeli Aircraft Industries IAI Westwind - itself a development of the Rockwell (formerly North American) Jet Commander
Acquired by Grumman and marketed as the G100 and the military C-38, the Astra's formed the basis of a new design - the G200
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This is a little rest spot near a local waterfall where you can sit and watch birds and listen to the falls. It's not exactly inviting.