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The Augustusburg and Falkenlust Palaces form a historical building complex in Brühl, North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany, which has been listed as a UNESCO cultural World Heritage Site since 1984. The buildings are connected by the spacious gardens and trees of the Schlosspark. Augustusburg Palace (German: Schloss Augustusburg) and its parks also serve as a venue for the Brühl Palace Concerts.
The palaces were built at the beginning of the 18th century by the Archbishop-Elector of Cologne, Clemens August of Bavaria of the Wittelsbach family. The architects were Johann Conrad Schlaun and François de Cuvilliés. The main block of Augustusburg Palace is a U-shaped building with three main storeys and two levels of attics. The magnificent staircase was designed by Johann Balthasar Neumann.
The gardens were designed by Dominique Girard. An elaborate flower garden for an area south of the palaces was also designed, but it was restructured by Peter Joseph Lenné in the 19th century and turned into a landscape garden. Attempts to renovate the area have proven difficult, due to poor source material availability.
Falkenlust hunting lodge was designed by François de Cuvilliés and built from 1729 to 1740, in the style of the Amalienburg hunting lodge in the park of Nymphenburg Palace.
From shortly after World War II until 1994, Augustusburg was used as a reception hall for guests of state by the German President, as it is not far from Bonn, which was the capital of the Federal Republic of Germany at that time.
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Fujifilm X-S10
Fujinon XC15-45mm F3.5-5.6 OIS PZ
This substantial Presbyterian Church in Dawson City Yukon was a reflection of the prosperity and commitment of the congregation it served. Erected in 1901, it boasted a pipe organ and carved oak pews that could accommodate 600 parishioners. The church bore the architectural stamp of the Gothic Revival popular elsewhere in the country. Together, with the spacious manse, of Second Empire design, it was one more element of familiarity in respectability in a city that was rapidly changing from its boom-town origins,
to a more modern era.
*(Note) This church is practically leaning up hill. Of course, it is now 122 years old, so I'm sure it's getting ready to lay down and rest.
Better hurry on up to Dawson City if you want to see it.
Jammin In-World store - high quality, original mesh & materials creations. Copy/Modify & Full Permissions products available. Utilizing advanced materials (diffuse, normal, specular texture maps) & quality mesh design that is low in land-impact.
Visit this location at Jammin - Copy/Mod, Full Perms Mesh & Materials Products in Second Life
Spacious 1 ½ story house ready for you to call hjem (home) for the summer or all year around. Downstairs you’ll find the kitchen, living room and bathroom, upstairs is an enormous loft bedroom, possibly two bedrooms that provides privacy while still being able to overlook the living room.
The extra high ceiling in the living room with windows above and below create a light airy feeling in this gem.
The previous owners rented the property out as an air bnb generating a very comfortable income. Before placing the home on the market they completely renovated every inch of the house and it shows.
- upstairs Loft
-1 bedroom
-1 Bathroom
- livingroom
- kitchen
Footprint: 17 x 17
70 Land impact LOD 4
117 land impact lod 2
This home will be available soon at Fameshed
and can be viewed right now inworld at HISA
9.4.09
The flight arrived on time; and the twelve hours while on board passed quickly and without incident. To be sure, the quality of the Cathay Pacific service was exemplary once again.
Heathrow reminds me of Newark International. The décor comes straight out of the sterile 80's and is less an eyesore than an insipid background to the rhythm of human activity, such hustle and bustle, at the fore. There certainly are faces from all races present, creating a rich mosaic of humanity which is refreshing if not completely revitalizing after swimming for so long in a sea of Chinese faces in Hong Kong.
Internet access is sealed in England, it seems. Nothing is free; everything is egregiously monetized from the wireless hotspots down to the desktop terminals. I guess Hong Kong has spoiled me with its abundant, free access to the information superhighway.
11.4.09
Despite staying in a room with five other backpackers, I have been sleeping well. The mattress and pillow are firm; my earplugs keep the noise out; and the sleeping quarters are as dark as a cave when the lights are out, and only as bright as, perhaps, a dreary rainy day when on. All in all, St. Paul's is a excellent place to stay for the gregarious, adventurous, and penurious city explorer - couchsurfing may be a tenable alternative; I'll test for next time.
Yesterday Connie and I gorged ourselves at the borough market where there were all sorts of delectable, savory victuals. There was definitely a European flavor to the food fair: simmering sausages were to be found everywhere; and much as the meat was plentiful, and genuine, so were the dairy delicacies, in the form of myriad rounds of cheese, stacked high behind checkered tabletops. Of course, we washed these tasty morsels down with copious amounts of alcohol that flowed from cups as though amber waterfalls. For the first time I tried mulled wine, which tasted like warm, rancid fruit punch - the ideal tonic for a drizzling London day, I suppose. We later killed the afternoon at the pub, shooting the breeze while imbibing several diminutive half-pints in the process. Getting smashed at four in the afternoon doesn't seem like such a bad thing anymore, especially when you are having fun in the company of friends; I can more appreciate why the English do it so much!
Earlier in the day, we visited the Tate Modern. Its turbine room lived up to its prominent billing what with a giant spider, complete with bulbous egg sac, anchoring the retrospective exhibit. The permanent galleries, too, were a delight upon which to feast one's eyes. Picasso, Warhol and Pollock ruled the chambers of the upper floors with the products of their lithe wrists; and I ended up becoming a huge fan of cubism, while developing a disdain for abstract art and its vacuous images, which, I feel, are devoid of both motivation and emotion.
My first trip yesterday morning was to Emirates Stadium, home of the Arsenal Gunners. It towers imperiously over the surrounding neighborhood; yet for all its majesty, the place sure was quiet! Business did pick up later, however, once the armory shop opened, and dozens of fans descended on it like bees to a hive. I, too, swooped in on a gift-buying mission, and wound up purchasing a book for Godfrey, a scarf for a student, and a jersey - on sale, of course - for good measure.
I'm sitting in the Westminster Abbey Museum now, resting my weary legs and burdened back. So far, I've been verily impressed with what I've seen, such a confluence of splendor and history before me that it would require days to absorb it all, when regretfully I can spare only a few hours. My favorite part of the abbey is the poets corner where no less a literary luminary than Samuel Johnson rests in peace - his bust confirms his homely presence, which was so vividly captured in his biography.
For lunch I had a steak and ale pie, served with mash, taken alongside a Guinness, extra cold - 2 degrees centigrade colder, the bartender explained. It went down well, like all the other delicious meals I've had in England; and no doubt by now I have grown accustomed to inebriation at half past two. Besides, Liverpool were playing inspired football against Blackburn; and my lunch was complete.
Having had my fill of football, I decided to skip my ticket scalping endeavor at Stamford Bridge and instead wandered over to the British Museum to inspect their extensive collections. Along the way, my eye caught a theater, its doors wide open and admitting customers. With much rapidity, I subsequently checked the show times, saw that a performance was set to begin, and at last rushed to the box office to purchase a discounted ticket - if you call a 40 pound ticket a deal, that is. That's how I grabbed a seat to watch Hairspray in the West End.
The show was worth forty pounds. The music was addictive; and the stage design and effects were not so much kitschy as delightfully stimulating - the pulsating background lights were at once scintillating and penetrating. The actors as well were vivacious, oozing charisma while they danced and delivered lines dripping in humor. Hairspray is a quality production and most definitely recommended.
12.4.09
At breakfast I sat across from a man who asked me to which country Hong Kong had been returned - China or Japan. That was pretty funny. Then he started spitting on my food as he spoke, completely oblivious to my breakfast becoming the receptacle in which the fruit of his inner churl was being placed. I guess I understand the convention nowadays of covering one's mouth whilst speaking and masticating at the same time!
We actually conversed on London life in general, and I praised London for its racial integration, the act of which is a prodigious leap of faith for any society, trying to be inclusive, accepting all sorts of people. It wasn't as though the Brits were trying in vain to be all things to all men, using Spanish with the visitors from Spain, German with the Germans and, even, Hindi with the Indians, regardless of whether or not Hindi was their native language; not even considering the absurd idea of encouraging the international adoption of their language; thereby completely keeping English in English hands and allowing its proud polyglots to "practice" their languages. Indeed, the attempt of the Londoners to avail themselves of the rich mosaic of ethnic knowledge, and to seek a common understanding with a ubiquitous English accent is an exemplar, and the bedrock for any world city.
I celebrated Jesus' resurrection at the St. Andrew's Street Church in Cambridge. The parishioners of this Baptist church were warm and affable, and I met several of them, including one visiting (Halliday) linguistics scholar from Zhongshan university in Guangzhou, who in fact had visited my tiny City University of Hong Kong in 2003. The service itself was more traditional and the believers fewer in number than the "progressive" services at any of the charismatic, evangelical churches in HK; yet that's what makes this part of the body of Christ unique; besides, the message was as brief as a powerpoint slide, and informative no less; the power word which spoke into my life being a question from John 21:22 - what is that to you?
Big trees; exquisite lawns; and old, pointy colleges; that's Cambridge in a nutshell. Sitting here, sipping on a half-pint of Woodforde's Wherry, I've had a leisurely, if not languorous, day so far; my sole duty consisting of walking around while absorbing the verdant environment as though a sponge, camera in tow.
I am back at the sublime beer, savoring a pint of Sharp's DoomBar before my fish and chips arrive; the drinking age is 18, but anyone whose visage even hints of youthful brilliance is likely to get carded these days, the bartender told me. The youth drinking culture here is almost as twisted as the university drinking culture in America.
My stay in Cambridge, relaxing and desultory as it may be, is about to end after this late lunch. I an not sure if there is anything left to see, save for the American graveyard which rests an impossible two miles away. I have had a wonderful time in this town; and am thankful for the access into its living history - the residents here must demonstrate remarkable patience and tolerance what with so many tourists ambling on the streets, peering - and photographing - into every nook and cranny.
13.4.09
There are no rubbish bins, yet I've seen on the streets many mixed race couples in which the men tend to be white - the women also belonging to a light colored ethnicity, usually some sort of Asian; as well saw some black dudes and Indian dudes with white chicks.
People here hold doors, even at the entrance to the toilet. Sometimes it appears as though they are going out on a limb, just waiting for the one who will take the responsibility for the door from them, at which point I rush out to relieve them of such a fortuitous burden.
I visited the British Museum this morning. The two hours I spent there did neither myself nor the exhibits any justice because there really is too much to survey, enough captivating stuff to last an entire day, I think. The bottomless well of artifacts from antiquity, drawing from sources as diverse as Korea, and Mesopotamia, is a credit to the British empire, without whose looting most of this amazing booty would be unavailable for our purview; better, I think, for these priceless treasures to be open to all in the grandest supermarket of history than away from human eyes, and worst yet, in the hands of unscrupulous collectors or in the rubbish bin, possibly.
Irene and I took in the ballet Giselle at The Royal Opera House in the afternoon. The building is a plush marvel, and a testament to this city's love for the arts. The ballet itself was satisfying, the first half being superior to the second, in which the nimble dancers demonstrated their phenomenal dexterity in, of all places, a graveyard covered in a cloak of smoke and darkness. I admit, their dance of the dead, in such a gloomy necropolis, did strike me as, strange.
Two amicable ladies from Kent convinced me to visit their hometown tomorrow, where, they told me, the authentic, "working" Leeds Castle and the mighty interesting home of Charles Darwin await.
I'm nursing a pint of Green King Ruddles and wondering about the profusion of British ales and lagers; the British have done a great deed for the world by creating an interminable line of low-alcohol session beers that can be enjoyed at breakfast, lunch, tea and dinner; and their disservice is this: besides this inexhaustible supply of cheap beer ensnaring my inner alcoholic, I feel myself putting on my freshman fifteen, almost ten years after the fact; I am going to have to run a bit harder back in Hong Kong if I want to burn all this malty fuel off.
Irene suggested I stop by the National Art Gallery since we were in the area; and it was an hour well spent. The gallery currently presents a special exhibit on Picasso, the non-ticketed section of which features several seductive renderings, including David spying on Bathsheba - repeated in clever variants - and parodies of other masters' works. Furthermore, the main gallery houses two fabulous portraits by Joshua Reynolds, who happens to be favorite of mine, he in life being a close friend of Samuel Johnson - I passed by Boswells, where its namesake first met Johnson, on my way to the opera house.
14.4.09
I prayed last night, and went through my list, lifting everyone on it up to the Lord. That felt good; that God is alive now, and ever present in my life and in the lives of my brothers and sisters.
Doubtless, then, I have felt quite wistful, as though a specter in the land of the living, being in a place where religious fervor, it seems, is a thing of the past, a trifling for many, to be hidden away in the opaque corners of centuries-old cathedrals that are more expensive tourist destinations than liberating homes of worship these days. Indeed, I have yet to see anyone pray, outside of the Easter service which I attended in Cambridge - for such an ecstatic moment in verily a grand church, would you believe that it was only attended by at most three dozen spirited ones. The people of England, and Europe in general, have, it is my hope, only locked away the Word, relegating it to the quiet vault of their hearts. May it be taken out in the sudden pause before mealtimes and in the still crisp mornings and cool, silent nights. There is still hope for a revival in this place, for faith to rise like that splendid sun every morning. God would love to rescue them, to deliver them in this day, it is certain.
I wonder what Londoners think, if anything at all, about their police state which, like a vine in the shadows, has taken root in all corners of daily life, from the terrorist notifications in the underground, which implore Londoners to report all things suspicious, to the pair of dogs which eagerly stroll through Euston. What makes this all the more incredible is the fact that even the United States, the indomitable nemesis of the fledgling, rebel order, doesn't dare bombard its citizens with such fear mongering these days, especially with Obama in office; maybe we've grown wise in these past few years to the dubious returns of surrendering civil liberties to the state, of having our bags checked everywhere - London Eye; Hairspray; and The Royal Opera House check bags in London while the museums do not; somehow, that doesn't add up for me.
I'm in a majestic bookshop on New Street in Birmingham, and certainly to confirm my suspicions, there are just as many books on the death of Christianity in Britain as there are books which attempt to murder Christianity everywhere. I did find, however, a nice biography on John Wesley by Roy Hattersley and The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis. I may pick up the former.
Lunch with Sally was pleasant and mirthful. We dined at a French restaurant nearby New Street - yes, Birmingham is a cultural capitol! Sally and I both tried their omelette, while her boyfriend had the fish, without chips. Conversation was light, the levity was there and so was our reminiscing about those fleeting moments during our first year in Hong Kong; it is amazing how friendships can resume so suddenly with a smile. On their recommendation, I am on my way to Warwick Castle - they also suggested that I visit Cadbury World, but they cannot take on additional visitors at the moment, the tourist office staff informed me, much to my disappointment!
Visiting Warwick Castle really made for a great day out. The castle, parts of which were established by William the Conquerer in 1068, is as much a kitschy tourist trap as a meticulous preservation of history, at times a sillier version of Ocean Park while at others a dignified dedication to a most glorious, inexorably English past. The castle caters to all visitors; and not surprisingly, that which delighted all audiences was a giant trebuchet siege engine, which for the five p.m. performance hurled a fireball high and far into the air - fantastic! Taliban beware!
15.4.09
I'm leaving on a jet plane this evening; don't know when I'll be back in England again. I'll miss this quirky, yet endearing place; and that I shall miss Irene and Tom who so generously welcomed me into their home, fed me, and suffered my use of their toilet and shower goes without saying. I'm grateful for God's many blessings on this trip.
On the itinerary today is a trip to John Wesley's home, followed by a visit to the Imperial War Museum. Already this morning I picked up a tube of Oilatum, a week late perhaps, which Teri recommended I use to treat this obstinate, dermal weakness of mine - I'm happy to report that my skin has stopped crying.
John Wesley's home is alive and well. Services are still held in the chapel everyday; and its crypt, so far from being a cellar for the dead, is a bright, spacious museum in which all things Wesley are on display - I never realized how much of an iconic figure he became in England; at the height of this idol frenzy, ironic in itself, he must have been as popular as the Beatles were at their apex. The house itself is a multi-story edifice with narrow, precipitous staircases and spacious rooms decorated in an 18th century fashion.
I found Samuel Johnson's house within a maze of red brick hidden alongside Fleet Street. To be in the home of the man who wrote the English dictionary, and whose indefatigable love for obscure words became the inspiration for my own lexical obsession, this, by far, is the climax of my visit to England! The best certainly has been saved for last.
There are a multitude of portraits hanging around the house like ornaments on a tree. Every likeness has its own story, meticulously retold on the crib sheets in each room. Celebrities abound, including David Garrick and Sir Joshua Reynolds, who painted several of the finer images in the house. I have developed a particular affinity for Oliver Goldsmith, of whom Boswell writes, "His person was short, his countenance coarse and vulgar, his deportment that of a scholar awkwardly affecting the easy gentleman. It appears as though I, too, could use a more flattering description of myself!
I regretfully couldn't stop to try the curry in England; I guess the CityU canteen's take on the dish will have to do. I did, however, have the opportune task of flirting with the cute Cathay Pacific counter staff who checked me in. She was gorgeous in red, light powder on her cheeks, with real diamond earrings, she said; and her small, delicate face, commanded by a posh British accent rendered her positively irresistible, electrifying. Not only did she grant me an aisle seat but she had the gumption to return my fawning with zest; she must be a pro at this by now.
I saw her again as she was pulling double-duty, collecting tickets prior to boarding. She remembered my quest for curry; and in the fog of infatuation, where nary a man has been made, I fumbled my words like the sloppy kid who has had too much punch. I am just an amateur, alas, an "Oliver Goldsmith" with the ladies - I got no game - booyah!
Some final, consequential bits: because of the chavs, Burberry no longer sells those fashionable baseball caps; because of the IRA, rubbish bins are no longer a commodity on the streets of London, and as a result, the streets and the Underground of the city are a soiled mess; and because of other terrorists from distant, more arid lands, going through a Western airport has taken on the tedium of perfunctory procedure that doesn't make me feel any safer from my invisible enemies.
At last, I saw so many Indians working at Heathrow that I could have easily mistaken the place for Mumbai. Their presence surprised me because their portion of the general population surely must be less than their portion of Heathrow staff, indicating some mysterious hiring bias. Regardless, they do a superb job with cursory airport checks, and in general are absurdly funny and witty when not tactless.
That's all for England!
The summer plateau is spacious, cool and refreshing!
I was able to
This is where the birch forest is felt refreshing
Whenever I go to Nagano prefecture, I like it.
Good to say shoot here.
But on this day, the weather was mixed with rain and wind
The leaves of the trees were swaying.
I'm not too familiar with these scenes.
At the time, he was attracted to the different nature of the heart.
I mind the moment of a lovely rhythm that the wind ticks
I shared it with the sense of listening to good music.
Excerpt from www.geocaching.com: The original Albion Hotel was a frame building built by Frank Wasley in 1879. It perished in the Great Fire of 1887. The present hotel rose the following year with “pleasant parlors, a spacious dining room and well-equipped bar”. Notice the brickwork and window detail. In the late 1980s the exterior was restored and the interior converted to apartments and business premises.
A very fashionnable spacious and wide white coloured lobby with its modern reception at the Hotel Concorde Berlin in Germany.
different departments like ladieswear, footwear, and so on
Posted by Second Life Resident Torley Linden. Visit BlakOpal.
This bright and spacious basilica consists of a single four-bay nave with cross-vaulted ceiling bordered with patterns of crosses and leaves, a transept and a polygonal apse. The four ribbed vaults are decorated alternately with golden stars on a blue background and paintings. The second vault is decorated with roundels with busts of Christ facing Saint Francis and the Virgin facing Saint John the Baptist. The entrance vault gives us the Four Latin Doctors of the Church: St Gregory facing St. Jerome and Saint Ambrose facing St. Augustine. These are ascribed to the Isaac Master.
The choir has 102 wooden stalls with carvings and marquetry by Domenico Indovini (1501). In their centre, on a raised platform, stands the papal cathedra.
The west end of the transept and the apse have been decorated with many frescoes by Cimabue and his workshop (starting in c. 1280). The magnificent Crucifixion, with Saint Francis on his knees at the foot of the Cross, stresses again the veneration of the Passion of Christ by Saint Francis. The frescoes of Cimabue soon suffered from damp and decay. Due to the use of lead oxide in his colours and to the fact that the colours were applied when the plaster was no longer fresh, they have deteriorated and have been reduced to photographic negatives.
Prior to him there had been some decorations in the upper right hand section of the transept by an (anonymous) Northern Master, probably an English artist (1267–1270). He realized the two lunettes and the roundels on the west wall with paintings of the Angel and the Apostles. Another (anonymous) master, the Roman Master, painted the Isaiah and the David and the remainder of the wall under the eastern lunette.
The upper part on both sides of the nave, badly damaged by the earthquake of 1997, was decorated in two rows with in total 32 scenes from the Old Testament (starting with Creation of the World and ending with Joseph forgives his brothers) and the New Testament (from the Annunciation to The Women at the Tomb), while the upper register of the entrance wall is covered with two frescoes Pentecost and Ascension of Jesus. Since it took about six months to paint one bay of the nave, different Roman and Tuscan masters, followers of Cimabue, have performed this series of scenes such as Giacomo, Jacopo Torriti and Pietro Cavallini.
The two frescoes of the life of Isaac (Isaac blesses Jacob and Esau in front of Isaac) in the middle register of the third bay, are traditionally ascribed to the young Giotto (1290–1295) (previously wrongly ascribed to Cimabue by Vasari). But even this has been controversial. Many critics esteem these the work of the anonymous Isaac Master and his workshop. Deducing from stylistic details, attesting to his Roman background, some think that the Isaac Master may have been Pietro Cavallini or a follower. Pietro Cavallini had painted around 1290 a similar fresco Isaac blessing Jacob in the convent of the church Santa Cecilia in Trastevere in Rome. The position of the resting Isaac looks like the same position of the Virgin in Cavallini's mosaic Birth of the Virgin in the apse of the church Santa Maria in Trastevere in Rome. The Isaac Master is considered one of the first practitioners of the true fresco (buon fresco) technique, which revolutionized mural painting for the subsequent centuries.
But the most important decorations are the series of 28 frescoes ascribed to the young Giotto along the lower part of the nave. Each bay contains three frescoes above the dado on each side of the nave, two frescoes in the east galleries beside the entrance, and two more on the entrance wall. Giotto used the Legenda Maior, the biography of Saint Francis by Saint Bonaventure (1266) to reconstruct the major events in the life of Saint Francis. The prototype for this cycle may have been the (now lost) Saint Francis cycle by Pietro Cavallini in the church San Francesco a Ripa in Rome. The paintings are as vivid as if Giotto had been a witness to these events. According to Vasari, they were executed in the period between 1296 and 1304.
However the authorship of Giotto is disputed, due to the ambiguous attributions given in early descriptions of this work. Many Italian critics continue to support the authorship of Giotto and his workshop. But because of small differences in style with the frescoes of Isaac, it is thought that several or even all of these frescoes were painted by at least three separate painters, using the original concept of Giotto : the Master of Legend of Saint Francis (the principal painter and probable supervisor of the cycle), the Master of the Obsequies of Saint Francis and the Cecilia Master.
The first span of the ceiling is decorated with frescoes of the "Four Doctors of the Church“ ( Jerome, Augustine, Gregory and Ambrose), attributed either to a young Giotto or to one of his followers. The third span presents four heart-shaped medallions of the Christ, Mary, John the Baptist and Francis, painted by Jacopo Torriti.
The cuspidate façade of the upper basilica has a portal in Gothic style with twin doors and a beautiful rose window.
God Shed HIS Grace On Thee ...
Wishing Everyone A Blessed And Wonderful Independence Day ...
Happy July 4th Week My Friends ....
In the laid back town of Medina is a tranquil, pleasant place called Duka Bay Resort. Occupying a sandy shore and part of a hill, Duka is soothingly shaded by a cluster of large ancestral trees. Seven villas -- spacious, elegant, and fully furnished -- provide a breathtaking view of the bay and the island of Camiguin.
One of Draken's TA-4Ks awaits its pilot prior to a mission over the Chocolate Mountain Aerial Gunnery Range in support of Expeditionary Warfare Training Group - Pacific's JTAC course.
Geräumiges Haus in stiller Wasserlage mit standhaften Sicherheitspersonal und unüberwindbarer Umzäunung zu verkaufen😅
for spacious skies
I was born in the Usa.. and lately i have felt a sense of disunity .. amongst us.. I do hope we never lose sight of our great land and people. That is my hope.. I will vote.. in 2008.
im not getting on my box.. i just want to say, I have voted ever since I could. And I believe everyone should have a say .
Polished marble floors, brass fixtures and fittings, and spacious rooms contribute to the general opulence of this much-loved resort. Eating spots include sea-view cafes and a brasserie-style French restaurant. A cinema, high-speed internet access, a jungle playground, mini-waterfall and family pool ensure the kids are kept happy while parents luxuriate in the spa.
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Quick description via booking.com
This Marriott Dead Sea Resort & Spa, on the shores of the mineral rich Dead Sea is set against the backdrop of rugged mountains. It features saltwater and fresh water pools, whirlpools and saunas. All air-conditioned rooms feature soothing colours and balconies, some of which overlook the Dead Sea. The beds are made with luxurious down comforters and feather pillows. A hairdryer, safe and minibar are all available. The Marriott Dead Sea Resort's extensive spa offers a pleasant retreat where guest can enjoy rejuvenating beauty and health treatments. There is also a lap pool and therapy baths. The Dead Sea Resort & Spa has 2 restaurants serving Italian and International fare and a steakhouse. Its choice of bars includes the Champions Sport Bar and Oasis Lounge, offering water pipes and Dead Sea views. This resort is under one hour’s drive from Queen Alia Airport. The city of Madaba, famous for its ancient mosaics, is just 35 km away. The hotel offers free parking.
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This stylish hotel spa has a heated pool, Dead Sea saltwater pool, Jacuzzi, steam room and sauna. Treatments include massages (55 minutes), body wraps, salt scrubs, phytomer and mud facials, dry flotation and hydrobaths. An Arabic loofah experience (75 minutes) has to be tried to be believed – expect your skin to glow by the end.
Spacious mansion with great open concept living/dining, kitchen, gallery with entertainment space and three bedrooms/two bathrooms.
Available at the mainstore
It was a brilliantly beautiful summer morning in Terreli. Back in his spacious bedroom, King Fernando was rubbing his hands in undisguised satisfaction.
Today was the day!
He thought with satisfaction over the events of the past few months.
King Fernando Augusto VIII chuckled as he remembered the Trade Companies. Squabbling little merchants! And now they were all eager over this little fight in a jam jar with Mardier. Haha! Wouldn’t he show them! Big plans, big plans!
Begone with diplomacy!
Ah! Those Oleonese! They’d rue the day they had rejected him as King!
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Far away, in a lush forest out in the New World, Captain Argentum picked his way through the undergrowth. He was followed by a small band of his own trusty crew, and two companies of well-trained Eslandian soldiers – one from the Royal Army itself, the other a band of picked marines. A grim smile overspread the Captain’s face as he thought of the work ahead of him. A fort of Oleonese soldiers, and an outpost right nearby! This would be a piece of cake!
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Dickie Cal sighed contentedly as he lay back against the hard brick wall of the fort. He loved this post – out of sight of everyone – perfect for naps! The next instant he was lost in the land of dreams.
He dreamed strange, strange things.
He dreamed of yells and shouts and screams.
He dreamed of the clash of arms and the rolling of artillery.
He dreamed that the cry was raised, “Contra Oleon! Contra Oleon!”
And in a panicky voice, an Oleonder cried out, “The Eslando… Eslandi… Green People!”
Dickie dreamed that the Oleonders, caught unprepared, made almost no resistance, but were forced to surrender.
He dreamed that all the Oleonders, including himself, were being huddled together out in front of the fort.
And it wasn’t until poor Dickie was being hustled down the broad pathway at the foot of the cliffs, an Eslandian soldier prodding him along, that he realized some of it, at least, hadn’t been a dream.
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The full collab - front half built by me, the back by Robert4168/Garmadon.
You can see more pictures of his on his photostream, and of mine here.
Spacious 1 ½ story house ready for you to call hjem (home) for the summer or all year around. Downstairs you’ll find the kitchen, living room and bathroom, upstairs is an enormous loft bedroom, possibly two bedrooms that provides privacy while still being able to overlook the living room.
The extra high ceiling in the living room with windows above and below create a light airy feeling in this gem.
The previous owners rented the property out as an air bnb generating a very comfortable income. Before placing the home on the market they completely renovated every inch of the house and it shows.
- upstairs Loft
-1 bedroom
-1 Bathroom
- livingroom
- kitchen
Footprint: 17 x 17
70 Land impact LOD 4
117 land impact lod 2
This home will be available soon at Fameshed
and can be viewed right now inworld at HISA
“The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame,
Their great Original proclaim.”, Joseph Addison.
[100% Original Mesh Design / Materials Enabled / Unisex / ETHEREAL Edition / Animated Mesh particles*/ Packs: Color & FATPACK / Resizer / Copy]
Color packs in black, white, gold, silver.
You will find it in E.V.E stand at November round of the We<3Rp at a 25% off.
Read more and get the taxi:
evestudio3d.wordpress.com/2016/11/02/update-ethereal-jewe...
A spacious scene from the middle of this large park in northwest Calgary. Despite looking like 'the middle of nowhere,' this park is surrounded by suburban neighbourhoods and busy roads.
Copyright J.R. Devaney
To comprehend the origins of the fascinating cave churches of Matera, you need really only understand how the Middle Ages affected this area. For centuries starting roughly at the end of the first millennium, a Who's Who of world leaders sent their armies up and down the eastern and western coasts of southern Italy, either to protect their dominions or to usurp someone else's. Some of those armies strayed into Basilicata, but most took the more streamlined Apulian, Calabrian and Campanian routes. This relative obscurity made it possible for another "army" to invade the region: the Benedictine and Basilian monks who were fleeing from the persecution of generations of foreign "infidels." These monks literally "dug in," excavating individual cells, tiny chapels and even some spacious churches in the hills, valleys and ravines around Matera.
This bright and spacious basilica consists of a single four-bay nave with cross-vaulted ceiling bordered with patterns of crosses and leaves, a transept and a polygonal apse. The four ribbed vaults are decorated alternately with golden stars on a blue background and paintings. The second vault is decorated with roundels with busts of Christ facing Saint Francis and the Virgin facing Saint John the Baptist. The entrance vault gives us the Four Latin Doctors of the Church: St Gregory facing St. Jerome and Saint Ambrose facing St. Augustine. These are ascribed to the Isaac Master.
The choir has 102 wooden stalls with carvings and marquetry by Domenico Indovini (1501). In their centre, on a raised platform, stands the papal cathedra.
The west end of the transept and the apse have been decorated with many frescoes by Cimabue and his workshop (starting in c. 1280). The magnificent Crucifixion, with Saint Francis on his knees at the foot of the Cross, stresses again the veneration of the Passion of Christ by Saint Francis. The frescoes of Cimabue soon suffered from damp and decay. Due to the use of lead oxide in his colours and to the fact that the colours were applied when the plaster was no longer fresh, they have deteriorated and have been reduced to photographic negatives.
Prior to him there had been some decorations in the upper right hand section of the transept by an (anonymous) Northern Master, probably an English artist (1267–1270). He realized the two lunettes and the roundels on the west wall with paintings of the Angel and the Apostles. Another (anonymous) master, the Roman Master, painted the Isaiah and the David and the remainder of the wall under the eastern lunette.
The upper part on both sides of the nave, badly damaged by the earthquake of 1997, was decorated in two rows with in total 32 scenes from the Old Testament (starting with Creation of the World and ending with Joseph forgives his brothers) and the New Testament (from the Annunciation to The Women at the Tomb), while the upper register of the entrance wall is covered with two frescoes Pentecost and Ascension of Jesus. Since it took about six months to paint one bay of the nave, different Roman and Tuscan masters, followers of Cimabue, have performed this series of scenes such as Giacomo, Jacopo Torriti and Pietro Cavallini.
The two frescoes of the life of Isaac (Isaac blesses Jacob and Esau in front of Isaac) in the middle register of the third bay, are traditionally ascribed to the young Giotto (1290–1295) (previously wrongly ascribed to Cimabue by Vasari). But even this has been controversial. Many critics esteem these the work of the anonymous Isaac Master and his workshop. Deducing from stylistic details, attesting to his Roman background, some think that the Isaac Master may have been Pietro Cavallini or a follower. Pietro Cavallini had painted around 1290 a similar fresco Isaac blessing Jacob in the convent of the church Santa Cecilia in Trastevere in Rome. The position of the resting Isaac looks like the same position of the Virgin in Cavallini's mosaic Birth of the Virgin in the apse of the church Santa Maria in Trastevere in Rome. The Isaac Master is considered one of the first practitioners of the true fresco (buon fresco) technique, which revolutionized mural painting for the subsequent centuries.
Saint Francis preaches in the presence of pope Honorius III
But the most important decorations are the series of 28 frescoes ascribed to the young Giotto along the lower part of the nave. Each bay contains three frescoes above the dado on each side of the nave, two frescoes in the east galleries beside the entrance, and two more on the entrance wall. Giotto used the Legenda Maior, the biography of Saint Francis by Saint Bonaventure (1266) to reconstruct the major events in the life of Saint Francis. The prototype for this cycle may have been the (now lost) Saint Francis cycle by Pietro Cavallini in the church San Francesco a Ripa in Rome. The paintings are as vivid as if Giotto had been a witness to these events. According to Vasari, they were executed in the period between 1296 and 1304.
However the authorship of Giotto is disputed, due to the ambiguous attributions given in early descriptions of this work. Many Italian critics continue to support the authorship of Giotto and his workshop. But because of small differences in style with the frescoes of Isaac, it is thought that several or even all of these frescoes were painted by at least three separate painters, using the original concept of Giotto : the Master of Legend of Saint Francis (the principal painter and probable supervisor of the cycle), the Master of the Obsequies of Saint Francis and the Cecilia Master.
The first span of the ceiling is decorated with frescoes of the "Four Doctors of the Church“ ( Jerome, Augustine, Gregory and Ambrose), attributed either to a young Giotto or to one of his followers. The third span presents four heart-shaped medallions of the Christ, Mary, John the Baptist and Francis, painted by Jacopo Torriti.
The cuspidate façade of the upper basilica has a portal in Gothic style with twin doors and a beautiful rose window.