Showing posts with label bells. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bells. Show all posts

Sunday, 26 April 2026

2026 Skopje

Not a London double-decker bus
Not a London double-decker bus
18.4.26

In Macedonia Square by the stone bridge, the Archaeological Museum in front of me to the right. The River Vardar quite narrow, shallow and fast flowing. Behind me, the truly massive equestrian statue of Alexander the Great, although for political reasons it is known as the Warrior on Horseback (Greece hates any reference to Alexander and Macedonia here). Sun shining, clouds, gentle breeze.

Don't call him Alexander the Great
Don't call him Alexander the Great

The most amazing thing about this place is that it exists, a complete culture and nation that practically no one outside knows about. It is like a secret land, hiding in plain sight. This ensemble – the square, statues, river, buildings  is astonishing. Although quite new, it has an eternal, classical feel to it. It brings to mind The Ideal City, usually attributed to the architect and artist Fra Carnevale.

Flight here from Luton, alas – with Wizz Air – was also rather magical: I fell asleep as is my wont, and woke up thinking I had had a short nap, to hear the captain announce we were beginning our descent – I’d slept for over two hours. Incredibly cheap ticket – just over £100. Accommodation cheap too, about 130 euros for four nights, even though I will only sleep three – my plane leaves Monday evening, so I can use the place during the afternoon.

Met at the airport by a cheerful chap who spoke a little English. Said there were few tourists coming here – something that will change, I am sure. New airport, pretty relaxed passport control. Road good on the way in, lots of Turkish companies in evidence – Halkbank etc. and the airport is Turkish-run, the taxi driver said. Ads for solar panels – some of which I saw in fields flying in, as well as some small-ish wind turbines in the distance. The villages have that characteristic spider web appearance – houses joined by tracks. Beautiful landscape flying in – very hilly, covered in thick but low vegetation, few roads – mostly dirt tracks.

Once I arrive at my flat, at 21 Dimitrie Cupovski, very close to the centre, out again to buy a few groceries, water and some apples. Which they only sold in big packs in the nearby Kam supermarket. The lady on the till looked a typical ex-communist worker: really unhappy with her lot, unsmiling. Seemed fairly tranquil out last night, and still very quiet now. A couple of street dogs – large – lie in the sun. Sparrows abound, as do pigeons. Also saw a hooded crow. Quite a lot of green here, probably because it is all quite new.

A fair number of electric scooters, ridden by people smoking as they go – lots of cigs here. On the way in last night, on the verge by the traffic lights, there was a Roma woman – young, early 20s, with her three small children, all under five. She was begging from the cars that had stopped at the lights, and the children were, well, surviving somehow, as the traffic zoomed around them.

People out running along the river – lovely location. A man selling sunglasses – the sun is indeed bright – might have to put mine on. People out walking their dogs.

The old bazaar, similar to Sarajevo's
The old bazaar, similar to Sarajevo's

Across the bridge, past the South East European University, into the old bazaar. Very extensive – far bigger than in Sarajevo, but very similar in feel. Full of shops offering jewellery, the main tourist gift here, it seems. Beyond the bazaar lies the real Skopje market – quite small compared to Bishkek et al. A few cats around, a few very large stray dogs. Rock music playing from cafés, a very lazy feel to this fine Saturday morning. Few tourists – seems mostly locals that are out.

Back to the flat, then out to get Denar. Found an ATM, which charged me £5 commission per transaction. But no choice: I need them for the taxi to the airport when I leave. Then back to the bazaar, taking a right, not left, past the Historical Museum and Art Gallery – closed. Then a long walk uphill to the Museum of Contemporary Art. It seemed closed at first, but as I walk around, it opens – well, one room, done out in garish red for a single theme exhibit. I sense a pattern here. Feels very like Sarajevo’s historical museum, rather run down, half-hearted, but they probably lack funds. More people out now, enjoying the sun and the warmth.

Museum of Macedonia
Museum of Macedonia

To the Museum of Macedonia. No sign of how to enter. I go to the museum shop, which is where you buy the entrance ticket, apparently, costing 100 Denar – about £1.40. No one else here, of course. Historical section about the liberation of Macedonia – very recent, 1940s. Civil war in Greece (1946-49). All so close. Clearly a lot of suffering back then.

To the ethnological part, which is larger, but equally deserted. Halls full of mannequins wearing ornate national costumes – lots of red and black. They look frozen, like a meeting of faceless zombies… Dug-out canoes, wooden wagons, threshing instruments. Lots of pix of traditional house buildings, but too dark to see well. One room looks very Turkish, seats around the walls, lots of carved wood, as in Topkapı Saray. A “town reception room” apparently.

I discovered why everything was so dark: I forgot to take off my sunglasses…

Back to the old bazaar, to here, “Eski Kasaba” – the old town. A burektore – börekci in Turkish, a kind of pie shop, selling börek. Eating one with meat, another with cheese, wrapped in slightly oily puff pastry. Delicious, and just £3 for the two, plus a glass of tea.


I forgot to mention: weirdly they have lots of red double-decker buses here, apparently 202 of them bought as part of the Skopje 2014 project…

St. Clement of Ohrid’s flying saucer church
St. Clement of Ohrid’s flying saucer church

To St. Clement of Ohrid’s flying saucer church. Quite effective. Inside, every surface is covered with painting/frescoes – all with strong blues and reds and yellows. The iconostasis is huge, but oddly unimpressive. North of the church a big Macedonian flag flutters in a desultory fashion. With its form and colours, it has always struck me as rather similar to the Japanese “Rising Sun” flag. But now that I am here, seeing it everywhere, I detect another congruence: to the Union Jack. Make of that what you will…

Walking around the area to the west, where there are quite a few restaurants, then back to my flat for tea. UHT milk here – usually tasting of plastic – remarkably tolerable. Out to the main square, full of people, then taking a right through the huge “City Trade Center” mall that runs alongside the river. A strange atmosphere inside: vast and yet not very glitzy, but not exactly rundown either. 

Another relic of Skopje 2014
Another relic of Skopje 2014

Then north over the Phillip II bridge, past the semi-derelict Jack Sparrow galleon, to here, by the Foreign Ministry. In front, there are curious statues of couples, neither classical nor modern. Lots of litter everywhere, although it has to be said my block of flats very clean – a woman was washing the floor this morning, eyeing me suspiciously.

South over the Bridge of Art – adorned with 28+1 statues of artists – all men. To the north, the huge pepper-pot design of the Public Prosecutor's Office. The south side very like London's South Bank, full of pubs and restaurants. Rather wider – but then the river is narrower than the Thames… On the north side, there are some female statues in front of the Macedonian Opera and Ballet – only nine (the muses?), and all ancient. The opera and ballet seemed closed, at least today. And pretty run-down. The Philharmonic of the Republic of Macedonia hall more impressive – a huge bulbous edifice – but closed. Its orchestra on tour in Germany apparently – Bonn this evening. Lovely end of day atmosphere as the sun declines, the wind rises, and people sit peaceably by the river.

Philharmonic of the Republic of Macedonia
Philharmonic of the Republic of Macedonia

A Polish group of tourists get explications. Earlier, I heard Greek, in the pie shop there were Turks (who spoke to the staff there in Turkish). Also worth noting the use of Albanian on signs here – the other official language. A fair number of women wearing headscarves – I can’t make out if they are all locals, or visitors… Probably the former.

19.4.26

On the way to the Museum of the City of Skopje in the hope that it might be open, I pass a typical post (?) communist building. Very odd proportions – squat, with the stumpiest columns at its base – completely out of place. The columns’ capitals look like smudged approximate versions of the Corinthian style. Moreover, the columns themselves are made of fibre glass (I think), certainly flimsy and hollow.
How not to do columns and capitals
How not to do columns and capitals

I write this sitting by another such building, with the enigmatic name of “BMPO-ΔΠMHE”, which apparently stands for “Internal Macedonian Revolutionary Organisation – Democratic Party for Macedonian National Unity”, which really rolls off the tongue. Also very odd design, with all the windows bearing Michelangelo-esque pediments – each storey alternating round and triangular ones. A portico with four Ionic columns is stuck on the front, and in front of that, in a square currently closed off with graffiti’d corrugated iron, a weird column – quite low, with a bronze lion on the top. Seems to be commemorating various uprisings – 1903, 1922 etc., and dedicated to “Revolutionary Organisations”.

City museum with its symbolic stopped clock
City museum with its symbolically stopped clock

And of course, the museum is closed when I get there, even though a sign on the door says “open”… But wait, a man has opened it just for me… In the entrance hall, a frieze of pix shows Skopje on 26.7.1963 – ruined buildings everywhere as a result of the massive earthquake that struck that day. Apparently around 80% of the city was destroyed [I found out later that the clock on the front of this museum, which was the old railway station, is fixed to show the time 5.17am, the moment the earthquake struck the city].


Skopje before its neo-classical remodelling
Skopje before its neo-classical remodelling

An amazing black and white pic of the city – perhaps taken in the 1960s after the earthquake – showing a depressing Soviet-style city, with many dull tower blocks in the centre, perhaps replacing the homes destroyed in 1963. The flying saucer church is there, looking very shabby, as is the old fort, but nothing of today’s neo-classical confection, which is much later. The bazaar is hard to make out. Interesting to see the block of flats where I am staying already present.

In the museum’s basement, ancient historical periods – the usual pots, coins, ornaments, vases – plus a rather fine 2nd century “Venus pudica” in good condition, from Roman Scupi. Makes you wonder who the original model was, 2,000 years ago. Most of the museum is closed off. Still no one here except me. Wonderful smell in these old, rather neglected museums – of ancient things…

Church of Saints Constantine and Helena.
Church of Saints Constantine and Helena.

Walking north, past the new Church of Saints Constantine and Helena. Very unusual geometrical decoration of the external walls. Inside, super-chromatic frescoes. Rather nice. Alongside is the bell tower, with the similar geometric patterns. Very pleasant sitting in the morning sun here. A pedestrian precinct full of cafés and trees. Skopje has come a long way since that grim black and white panorama of the city 60 years ago. A man brings out a few second-hand books for sale; but who buys this stuff? 10 o’clock – the bells strike in the bell tower – a fine, clangorous sound.
The great mother goddess
The great mother goddess

To the Archaeological Museum. From the archaic necropolis of Korošišta - 6th century BCE helmet + gold pectoral + other bits – impressive. Must have been thriving at that time. The museum is very modern, very well presented. The most impressive things I’ve seen so far are the votive offering boxes (?) - human figures, mostly female, on top of empty spaces, presumably for offerings. These are from 8,000 years ago… Some have interesting octopus-like legs attached – clear proof aliens visited us back then, no? The section with Macedonian armaments very interesting.

Just part of a huge and well-presented collection
Just part of a huge and well-presented collection

To the bazaar, and the horribly named Kebapçılnıca Turist restaurant next to the place I ate yesterday. Despite trying to avoid it, I end up eating veal, which I hate doing. It seems widely used here 
– and not much food suitable for vegetarians. A lot of tourists out: a group of very dark Tamil/Indians – Gastarbeiter? Also, a group of Muslims, looking quite Central Asian/Malaysian. Very hot out, but a slight breeze.

To be fair, all the restaurants and shops are pretty relaxed – no pushy selling as in some places. Similarly, in the museums, everyone is very helpful. (Fabulous bread – pide. The muezzin calls to prayer – such an evocative sound…). Everyone is smoking here – even in the restaurant, next to small children. Macedonia still has a long way to go in this respect. Surprising number of electric mobility vehicles here – would not have expected them. Also far too many electric scooters – going fast… But no electric cars that I’ve seen. I’ve also not seen pregnant women here: I wonder if that is because they don’t go out, or is indicative of a demographic problem. There seem to be plenty of children, so presumably the former.

The Archaeological Museum is really well done: exhibits well displayed, with good info – but only in English. One problem is that the building’s unusual shape – a very long and thin squashed ellipse – makes it hard to provide a logical flow from ancient to more recent. At times I had to backtrack to continue. Not a big issue, and the building is indeed rather fine.

It’s a pity that so many of the other museums and galleries here – including the National Gallery and the Museum of Contemporary Art – were closed. It made it hard to get a more rounded picture of Macedonian art and culture. But obviously they are tight for funds, and there are as yet few tourists to justify diverting money to keep them open all the time.

In the Archaeological Museum there was a group of Greeks being shown around – nice hearing the language spoken. And I’ve heard German and English spoken today by tourists. Before, I’d heard Spanish and maybe Russian, and definitely Turkish. Indeed, judging by the signs everywhere, Turks form an important group as far as tourism is concerned. There is a greater presence of Islam than I expected – pretty much as in Sarajevo.

Out to the church of this morning, and I hear my first French tourists. Lovely atmosphere here in Macedonia Street (appropriately enough). The pedestrian street and its cafés in the shade, the church and its bell tower still baking in the hot afternoon sun. Quite a few people here have tattoos – mostly men, but a few women with more discreet ones.

This city is a great place to spend a long weekend, but the absence of much to see is a big drawback. Next time I come I would aim to hire a car and drive out to Ohrid with its lake, and elsewhere. The landscapes look very attractive, and with a car it would be easy to access some out-of-the-way places. The drivers look vaguely sensible on the roads here, surprisingly.

There seem to be fewer women in scarves here than in the bazaar: is this the more cosmopolitan quarter perhaps? Also there’s the Orthodox church here, whereas the bazaar area has several mosques reflecting its Ottoman heritage. The south side is more secular and Western.

The unfinished, hollow bell tower with its cabling
The unfinished, hollow bell tower with its cabling

Upon closer examination, the new bell tower is only partly finished: one third of the external marble (?) is still missing. It also seems entirely hollow: I wonder how they ring the bells… One thing conspicuous by their absence : Chinese tourists. Not a single one have I seen. Everywhere else – even Khujand, say, they were present. Here: 不是,没有… So the bell tower is indeed completely empty, but I can see at least two metal cables running the entire height, obviously connecting to the bells.

On the stone bridge, a balmy night. The Archaeological Museum looks splendid, of course. Hundreds out, enjoying the evening. I guessed this is how it would be. But hard to imagine how this spot looked 50/60 years ago, as shown in the black and white panorama. Different worlds.

Van Gogh would have loved those eddies
Van Gogh would have loved those eddies

To the west, a suitably thin crescent moon + planet. The reflected lights on the swirling river eddies create a Van Gogh-like effect. Into the bazaar. By the entrance, a man selling roast chestnuts. Quiet at first, further in it livens up, people out eating, drinking, smoking. Lots of small children, even though it is getting late…

The old bazaar by night
The old bazaar by night

Just seen my first pregnant lady. Do I get a prize?

On the way back from sitting by the river, I saw not one, not two, but three red double-decker buses – a herd of them. They were going home – I had seen them in a similar group last night. Has to be said that these Chinese-made buses are singularly dirty.

20.4.26

In the old fortress. Good view across the city, and north to the snow-capped mountains. The fortress is big – and mostly derelict ruins. Various buildings here of unknown use. Up in the highest stone tower, with a telescope on a platform that can’t be reached since the stairs have disintegrated. Cigarette butts everywhere. Grass very green – but probably full of poisonous snakes. Sunny, but with light clouds. On the way here – which is the same route as to the Museum of Contemporary Art – I passed a rusty howitzer sitting amid peaceable trees. A relic of past civil wars, presumably.

A view from a stone tower looking across the old fortress
A view from a stone tower looking across the old fortress

Looking east towards the bazaar, the minarets and characteristic metal domes are evident. I can also see the small church of the Ascension of Jesus where I hope to visit next. First Chinese tourists – one wearing a face mask, in the middle of a large open-air space… Needless to say, when I got there, the church was closed to visitors, even though it was supposed to be open, for no good reasons.

Into Ramstore Mall, which is as anonymous and depressing as malls everywhere. One minor difference: a sign on the door indicating “no guns”. To the Diamond Mall next door. More modern, better designed, pretty empty and still depressing, also with a sign saying "no guns". Quite a good bookshop – Literatura.mk.

No guns in this shopping mall, please
No guns in this shopping mall, please

To the Memorial House of Mother Teresa (with the rather splendid domain name memorialhouseofmotherteresa.com) – not something I would normally bother with, but there’s not much else to do here on a Monday (as in many cities around the world, most museums are closed today). Interesting pic of Skopje 100 years ago – unrecognisable.

In the airport. One thing I forgot to mention is that along with a huge number of electric scooters, there are also WOLT deliveries zooming around everywhere.

Skopje has been very pleasant, aided by the splendid weather, although let down by the fact that half of the things to see were closed. Perhaps preparing for later. Also, I have to confess that Skopje was a little too familiar - it was clearly European, albeit with fascinating tinges of the Ottoman empire that linger on. I suppose I have been corrupted by my Central Asian travels. I now hanker for more of a cultural difference, if not shock. Bad me…

Looking at the departures board here, it is striking that there is one flight each to Bologna, London and Paris, seven to Germany, four to Turkey – three to Istanbul, and one to Izmir. The German flights are presumably migrant workers and their families coming and going, since there don’t seem to be many German tourists as such. Also two flights to Ljubljana, which is odd...


Moody Sonnets: Discovering Skopje

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Sunday, 4 August 2024

2024 France and Northern Italy


The centre of Avallon
The centre of Avallon

23.7.24 under the English Channel

Sitting inside the front carriage of the Eurotunnel train, passing under the Channel to France.  But rather than on a train, it feels more like a wormhole from the UK to France.  The gentle rocking, and occasional external noises sound like the workings of mysterious technology.  The slight bumps and shakes feel like ripples in space-time

The road to the Eurotunnel terminal through southeast London, the unlovely part of the city.  Traffic good, even on the absurd contraflow on the M20, necessitated by Brexit’s self-harming madness.  The journey through France is part of our annual transhumance to Italy, passing through rural France and the Mont Blanc tunnel, an experience in itself, especially after the very different tunnels in Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan.

First stop Carrefour by the French Eurotunnel terminal.  Pretty grim, but makes me think of the Carrefour in Tbilisi, of all places - rather smaller, but more romantic just by virtue of its position. In Carrefour car park.  Very windy - the three wind turbines nearby whirling around…  Patches of blue in the sky.  Since I am edge-on to the wind turbines, I can see them reposition themselves slightly by gyrating, as the wind shifts directions.

In Saint-Omer.  A gentle carillon tinkles away.  A bit of a nightmare finding somewhere to park - a bloke sitting in his car for 30 minutes - I ask if he is going, he says “no”, he is waiting for his daughter.  Meanwhile, another place becomes free, but impossible to get to directly because of all the one-way streets here.  I make a circuitous alternative route back and manage to grab it.

Our small square - Place Sithieu - is actually a triangle.  Old buildings around it - some extreme prismatic roofs, like those in Paris, but less grand.  In the middle, a bronze statue of Pierre Alexandre de Monsigny - a musician apparently, but not one I’d ever heard of.

On the way here, driving along the almost deserted A26, some fab French place names: Fréthun, Les Attaques, Ardres, Louches, Zutkerque, Fecques sur Heim, Éperlecques, Sengues, Tilques.  They sound like the sort of place Proust would have visited and raved about.

The organ in Saint-Omer cathedral
The organ in Saint-Omer cathedral

Just noticed our Place is under the ever-loving eye of a fat CCTV camera, which rotates to view different angles and streets.  Around the town.  To the cathedral - beautiful aged white stone, with one of the biggest church organs I’ve seen.  The Jesuit college - incredibly tall - a symbol of arrogance and aspiration.  Built of bricks too.  Crazy mouldings - coats of arms, and at the bottom a huge broken pediment a metre thick.

The Jesuit college in Saint-Omer
The Jesuit college in Saint-Omer

Sitting by the theatre, an interesting rectangular structure with a roof similar to Mole Antonelliana in Turin.  Set in a square that would be rather grand were it not for the huge car park in the middle.  The architecture of the buildings around the square very varied, but very French.  Four/five storeys, steep roofs - very steep roofs. One opposite us with the inscription “Ludovici XVI Munificentia”.  It has two rows of windows in its tall steep roof, with four statues perched on the top balustrade at the foot of the roof.  Terrifying.

24.7.24 Saint-Omer

Up early, and onto the streets, the cathedral bell ringing out its one sonorous note, echoing off stone and brick.  To the boulangerie, the smell of fresh bread in the air.  Nobody about, even though it’s 8am now.  This place is beautiful but so dead…  As we return, the cathedral’s bell has become two, a tone apart, ringing with more urgency.  I doubt whether many will respond and attend the imminent mass…

Avallon's clock tower arch
Avallon's clock tower arch

In Avallon - or rather back in Avallon, since we were here almost exactly a year ago.  Our destination a huge living space near the clock tower arch and the amazing ancient church of Saint-Lazare.  Quite weirdly created from a couple of rooms, with the dividing wall removed to leave only the supporting beams.  Works, though…

The theatre in Avallon
The theatre in Avallon

Hellish journey here, took seven and a half hours.  Two main problems.   First, a big jam on the A4 by Reims.  This is anyway my least favourite road section, where the A26 mutates into the A4 for no reason, and then turns back again.  Totally trivial roadworks caused 30 minutes of blockage.

Then past Troyes - yes, as in Chrétien de Troyes - onto the D444 to Tonnerre.  Beautiful villages along the way, particularly Chaource.  Past Tonnerre, a sign saying “route barrée” - but without offering a workaround.  We plotted a longer alternative route and turned back towards Tonnerre.  Luckily, on the way we noticed a sign “Deviation” that was almost invisible.  It was the official alternative route, down very small back roads.  It passed through Viviers, Yrouenne and Poilly-sur-Serein, the heart of Chablis country - the town itself is nearby.  Finally back on the D944, quickly to Avallon.  It’s a nice town, livelier than Saint-Omer, but also more touristic.  Knowing the place a little made it easier to find our lodgings, and park the car nearby.  Always interesting going back, layering memory on memory….

25.7.24  Sallanches

Easy drive down from Avallon, along the A6, then A40 to here, Sallanches, chosen for its propinquity to the Mont Blanc tunnel.  To avoid the insane queues, we need to get there early tomorrow morning.  The hotel, Ibis Budget, lives up to its name: two-star, and everything minimally comfortable.  Interesting: no key, just a code to enter.  Very basic, but cheap-is (100 euros), and close to the tunnel.

Mountains in Sallanche
Mountains in Sallanche

As ever, the landscape nearby is stunning - great walls of stone glowing in the afternoon sun, which is strong now.  30°C+.  The mountains look greener than I remember them: maybe more rain this year has made them particularly verdant.

20.8.24  La Thuile

In the Hotel La Thuile, in the village of La Thuile, in the Aosta valley, bordering France.  This place is schizophrenic: popular ski resort in winter, and hiking centre in summer.  In fact, my one and only experience of skiing was not far from here, in La Plagne.  I’m glad I did it, but it’s not something that ever really grabbed me as it does some.  I think skiing is popular in part because it is quite straightforward – you fall down a hill with a certain care – while accessing instant excitement in beautiful scenery.  

In fact this place is more than a ski centre, it’s a kind of Butlin’s holiday camp in a stunning location.  There are lots of mini shops here – including a butcher – as well as various games and activities.  It’s easy to see why there are lots of families with small children here.  Less clear is why there are so many older people.  Most of them seem unable to walk very well, let alone go hiking in the mountains.  Perhaps it’s the thought that counts.  To be fair, the air here is great – we are at about 1500 metres.  Nothing compared to Kyrgyzstan, but higher than the tallest UK mountains.

We chose here for a location near to the Mont Blanc tunnel, so that we could get there early and avoid the sometimes horrendous queues.   We didn’t spot that it was not only among the mountains, but actually up them.  

We turned off the main road in Aosta, to Morgex, then a positively Georgian road with nine rather steep and sharp turns took us up high quickly.  Mountains stunning in the late afternoon light.  The only problem I have with this particular beauty is that it is so neat and well-tended.  In this, it is the opposite of Tajikistan/Kyrgyzstan.  But I can imagine that one day both of these will be as popular as here, and just as neat.  Something will be lost, but of course the local economies will gain, so I shouldn’t carp.  And as with so many places, I have been fortunate to see them before this happened.

Driving through the village of La Thuile, it was striking how un-Italian it looked – all Swiss-style chalets and buildings.  The hotel too has wood everywhere – not unattractive.  Outside, the evening air is noticeably cooler here.  One bonus: no mosquitoes, which were bad in the low-lying parts of the country.

21.8.24 Avallon

We arose early, in order to get to the Mont Blanc tunnel before the queues formed.  Air markedly colder than in the other parts of Italy we had visited.  As we drove down from the ski resort/summer station, the sunrise illuminated the mountain wall towards France with the topmost peaks picked out like towers along a massive fortification.

About three cars at the toll booths for the tunnel – we didn’t even queue for ours.  The tunnel itself quite empty towards France, more traffic coming in the opposite direction – big lorries mostly.  Out into France, and huge horizontal banks of low-level cloud lay alongside the mountains.  This part of France with its huge swooping viaducts is particularly beautiful in the broken sunshine.  So dramatic, it makes driving here such a pleasure.

Easy road today: straight along the A40, on to the A6, to here, Avallon.   Not just to the town we stayed in before, but to the exact same place, by the clock gate, with the handy car park opposite.  Coming back makes the journey a real joy, because I knew exactly where I was going, no stress.  Ditto with the accommodation, which feels like a little home from home, since it required no effort of familiarisation.

Inscription on church in Avallon
Inscription on church in Avallon

Avallon warm and bustling with people.  Mostly people with dogs, it would seem, oddly enough.  Got to see inside the collegiate church of Saint-Lazare nearby.  Amazing stonework around the door.  Inside musty but atmospheric.  A fine organ over the door.  Outside, a carved inscription that starts fully legible, but becomes more and more eroded towards the end, a wonderful metaphor for time and loss.

Tomorrow, we go back up to Troyes (hi, Chrétien), then on to Saint-Omer.  Not the same place, but nearby, so at least navigating the one-way streets will be easy.

22.8.24 Avallon

During the night, the big bell on the clock gate tolled the hours not once, but twice, with a distance of a minute or so.  It also gave a quieter semitone tinkle for the half-hours.  But it’s amazing how you can sleep through such things – I only heard a couple of them…

Clos du Bailli hotel in Saint-Omer
Clos du Bailli hotel in Saint-Omer

More bells – this time back in Saint-Omer.  More precisely, in the Clos du Bailli hotel.  This is barely 50 metres from our accommodation here a month ago.  The hotel’s design is unusual. It was clearly a house of some local well-to-do individual.  Today, it is kitted out with period furniture, prints and even tapestries: all rather impressive.  There is a courtyard at the front, visible through railings, and the hotel entrance alongside – where the carriages passed, I imagine.  The rooms lie in the house itself, which sits at the angle of Place Sithieu and the cathedral’s Enclos Notre Dame.  We are in room 12, which has a great view of the triangular Place.

The journey here split in two: from Avallon to Troyes, passing through a series of picturesque villages, the best of which was Chaource.  The downside of these charming villages is that they often have speed limits of 30 km/h – about 19 mph.  The surrounding countryside is attractive, agricultural, with plenty of trees in same places, in others, vast open spaces.  At Troyes we joined the A5 briefly, before turning north, on to the A6.  Then a long and rather boring drive up here.

Saint-Omer seems busier than before – more tourists presumably.  Lots of people smoking cigarettes here – I thought that was out these days.  I saw lots of individuals limping as they walked, and others with knee braces.  Weird.

In search of a supermarket we walked along Rue de Dunkerque, which seems to be the main shopping street.  Found a small but decent Carrefour there.

Tomorrow, a short trip to Calais, then under the Channel and home.  As ever, the journey back is easier than out, because the destination – home – is known.  And the journey home has about it a sense of the inevitable, because transhumance by its very nature – a temporary transfer of residence - implies a return.

Thursday, 26 January 2023

2023 Barcelona

21.1.23

Sitting in the splendid cathedral in the Gothic Quarter.  The wild, interlocking arches look like something out of Piranesi.  Lots of chapels filled with gilded polyptychs.  The Gothic area looks like Venice without the canals.  Lots of high buildings squeezing narrow alleyways beneath.  Glorious day, cold but sunny.  Cloisters complete with geese.  Bells boom.

In the Plaça del Rei.  Strange construction in one corner with rows of empty arches, the Mirador del Rei Martí – reminds me of the 
Palazzo della Civiltà Italiana in Rome, as used in Greenaway's “Belly of an Architect”.  Already a few guided tour groups.  Must be hell in summer.

Good to be back in this civilised city.  The third time for me – once, 40 years ago, when I came here on my Interrailing.  Don’t remember much of that, except the then rather run-down Gothic area.  Now it is all splendidly restored, like everywhere in the city.  The second time was just before Covid struck, when I gave a talk to LIBER, the library association, in the Maritime Museum.  Managed to see the great Picasso Museum – still remember his amazing variations on “Las Meninas”.

Flew in yesterday evening – just one hour 40 minutes from Gatwick.  Picked up by taxi, efficiently, to our flat near Entença.  Strange design in what were probably warehouses, nicely converted with lots of exposed brickwork.  Went out for a meal in C
afé Bassy, very near.  Felt almost exactly the same as the little café in Rue Dauphine.  Big portions, good Rioja, from a freshly opened bottle.  Neither of us could remember the Spanish word for “glass” (copa).  Very interesting to see Catalan signs everywhere, but more Spanish spoken, I think.  (The service in the cathedral was in Catalan).  On the way back, bought fab strawberries, grapes and apples from a fruttivendola – local produce, presumably.  Good quality.

This morning, by metro to here.  Modern, clean, efficient – and very extensive.  Unlike London or Paris, the metro is more of a mesh.  Very good value – paid 11 euros for 10 trips – less than a quid each.  Eating churros, decent coffee.

Now in Els Quatre Gats.  Rather nice, even if a famous tourist hotspot.  Quiet, only half the tables occupied, suitably cool jazz playing.  Lovely tiles, ceramics, paintings, photos (black and white).  Strange bowls on the wall with chunks missing of the rim: not broken, because the pattern stops.  Clearly functional… Food OK, nothing special, but ambience good.

At the airport yesterday, and a first for me.  Seeking to avoid the usual queue, we went to one side as directed, to scan our passports automatically.  So far, so normal.  But the scanning unit also wanted our fingerprints.  Needless to say, this failed abysmally, and took two or three minutes to sort.  So much for automation…

Sitting on the steps by the port, the sun low in the sky in front of us.  Obscenely big motor cruisers before us, a monstrous cruise liner in the distance.  The thin wires of the Telefèric del Port visible with the cars passing now and then.  Wind strong, quite cold.  Lots of people out, taking their passeggiata.  

Before, went along to MACBA, the big white museum of modern art.  Looks like Centre Pompidou, but with only its white underwear on.  Didn’t go in, because I have Bilbao and the Guggenheim in a month or so.

Waiting for the  Telefèric lift – queue not too bad.  Reminds me of Bratislava…  Slow and beautiful slide across the harbour, Barcelona laid out like a map.  Reminds me of Hong Kong, although much less elevation in the buildings.  Sagrada Familia dominates the scene.

When we arrive at the other station, on Montjuic, the wind had risen, and the temperature fell as a result.  But the view great – almost identical to that from Bratislava castle, although the details were obviously different.  The problem was how to get down to the nearby metro Paral·lel.  After wandering around for a while, we came across a taxi, and took it down to the metro, which proved further away than it seemed on the map.  On the way back, got on the train going the wrong way – I claim the signage was misleading…

Barcelona confirms itself as a great, flourishing city.  Lots to see and do, and everything working well.  London is obviously a greater city, but it is far more unequal, with evident dysfunctions.  Still, Barcelona is clearly a fab place to visit, as it has been for many years.

22.1.23

Sitting in Santa Maria del Mar: fabulous. Soaring columns, raw stone, very spacious.  Mottled rock makes the view incredibly varied, adds to sense of something built, block by block.

Up to another glorious day, then on the metro to Diagonal.  Streets quiet, even more impressive because Passeig de Gràcia is pedestrianised in the middle, with traffic creeping by shamefacedly.  To La Pedrera, first of an intensely Gaudiesque day for us.  Fairly restrained for Gaudí, only the ironwork of the balconies out of control.  Unlike Casa Batlló – totally bonkers, with frightening Venetian masks on the balconies, weird alien eyes behind.  The roof even more insane. The other buildings in this fine boulevard are inventive with their crowns and pepperpots.  The street feels like Champs-Élysées with better architecture.  Down past Plaça de Catalunya, then walking towards here through the Gothic quarter.  The amazing Antic Theatre – equally crazy.  Clearly something in the air here.  The backstreets remind me strongly of Venice again…

Amazing the columns by the altar of Santa Maria del Mar: eight thin pillars holding up the roof.  Bare for two thirds, then fluting up to the centre.  All sturdy octagonal pillars, with tiny, barely pointed arches between them at the top.

On the metro, to La Sagrada.  Already booked ticket for 2.30pm, plus trip up Passion tower.  So until then, along to Granier café nearby. Honest little place, basic fare.  Better than nearby La Sagrada, with its huge heaving crowds.  Madness.  Dread to think how it is in peak season.  Looked in estate agents, prices here very cheap (compared to London…).  But more generally, things are cheap here – food etc.  Very liveable as a city.

On the  Telefèric yesterday, the curve of the beach emerged clearly.  Another remarkable aspect of Barcelona – it has a good beach nearby.  I can’t think of another major city that has all the facilities of Barcelona, and a beach, plus the ancient quarter.  San Francisco has the first two, but not the last.  And here, the mountains are not far away, either…  A city that has everything…

Back past La Sagrada – you forget just how massive it is, how it looms over everything.  And the main tower is still unfinished – it will be so tall…. Up along the Avenida de Gaudí – lovely pedestrianised area, full of people out in the sun.  Strangely, reminds me of Armenia, Vazgan Sargsyan Street leading to the main Republic Square in Yerevan.  Up to Sant Pau – not quite Gaudi, but extravagant.  The old hospital being converted to galleries – even more of them, in a city already well endowed.  Another reason to return.

In La Sagrada.  Insane levels of security – full airport scans of clothes and person.  Inside, impressively high nave, with jagged angels on high, tree-like branches on top of the columns.  Gaudy (sic) colours stream through the stained glass windows – oranges, reds, greens, blues, geometric shapes that probably represent something.  The altar unimpressive – the canopy over the crucifix looks like a circus big top.  Indeed, the whole place is close to tipping over into the vulgar.  Perhaps the external view is best to dwell on…

Up the tower.  Views OK, nice to see the other towers being built.  But the overall feel is still that it is the view from outside that will impress, not the interior, once everything is finished.  Even the outside is spoilt (IMHO) by the words built on the surface of the building – they look like ads.  Descending inside the tower was a good reminder of the reality of heights, all-too hidden by lifts.  The 400 steps down the spiral staircase went on for ever; the central void that went from top to bottom – no guard rail – was quite stunning.

Perhaps the most telling moment was at 3pm, when the bells struck: four times for on the hour, three for the time itself.  At least the bells were good.  Nope: as we moved through the tower, we saw there were no bells, only loudspeakers.  It was all recorded…

A long walk along Passeig de Sant Joan to the Arc de Triomf – which looked rather Indian to my eyes.  Then on the metro to here, the Plaça Reial, for a drink in perhaps the most civilised square here.  The sun still visible on the eastern side, illuminating the tops of the palm trees...