Public art

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There is a man in town, Geoff Dellow, who prepares slabs of raw clay, and then holds workshops for the public to create sculptures, small scale. He fires them and hangs them on a public fence along Gill Bank (our part of town). I couldn't make it to the sculpting session last weekend, but I offered to help hang this weekend.

Geoff Dellow (left)

Sunflowers and butterflies (right)

Wheels on cart turn (left)

Megan's chihuahua and cat (right)

3 pigs, cow, ogre and rainbow (left)

Luminaria on spikes (right)

There were five Americans, including two children, there helping Geoff to hang the pottery. (No other Brits this time.)

I plan to try his workshops. They are very low cost.

Geoff is quite a character, a gadfly even, taking on public improvement projects when he is fed up with waiting for officialdom to act. There is a lamppost downtown which has been leaning for 3 months. Considering this sight to be a disgrace, he is attempting to right the lamppost himself. His blog reflects these views. http://geoffdellow.blogspot.com/

Church service

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The Methodist church service this morning was very interesting, in several ways. The lesson was about Jesus asking Peter if he loved him. Rather than just reading the scripture, several women came to the front for a dramatic reading. They ranged in age from mid-50s to late 80s. The first thing that struck me was that all of the parts, male, were portrayed by women. Jesus, 3 disciples, and narrator. At one point, the narrator lost her place. While another congregant helped her, the audience was quiet and respectful. No fidgeting. It was exciting to see these very old women actively participating in the service. I've noticed that Hal and I, in our late 50s, are well below the average age of the congregation.

Taking up the collection is a different process from the method used in Niantic. Rather than a brass platen, they pass a velveteen bag hanging from a wooden dowel. The dowel has a handle on each end; the bag is wide at the base with a smallish opening on top, effectively blocking view of the contents. This morning, some very elderly women were taking up the collection. Again, I was pleased to see the participation.

There are very few youth in this church (less than ten, I think), but they are active in the band and other activities. At Christmas, they gave tealights in glass holders to everyone. It was not a tradition; they just decided to do it from their funds. Really special. Humbling in a way.

The pastor leads an enthusiastic band of brass and woodwinds. Today there were 15 or so in the band. Their benediction was "The War March of the Priests" by Mendelssohn. It started off roughly, but was well-done once they got going. Typically this congregation rises to go, putting on their coats, and jabbering during the benediction. But not today. I may make a suggestion to the pastor. I don't think Niantic Community Church came to good benediction manners on its own: a minister had to suggest it, and put it in the bulletin.

After the service, most people go to the back, where the church hall has tables and chairs, coffee and tea. The largest teapot I've ever seen. Two-and-a-half gallons, maybe. Oddly for us, coffee is more popular than tea (on Sunday morning).

The church hall with kitchen is used by several community groups during the week. I just learned that it costs only 6 £/hour to rent. Wicked cheap. At today's currency, that's about $9/hour. Philosophy, local history, mom and baby, and other groups use it. A community lunch is served once a fortnight, I think.

Easter Sunrise Service

On Easter morning, there was a 6:30 ecumenical sunrise service on Birkrigg Common, the highest point in our area. It's about 3 miles south of town, requiring crossing of cattle grids. Sheep graze here without fences. It was very cold and windy that morning. We could see snow on the mountains in the distance.

The Methodist Church band played. It must have been difficult: the dark, and cold brass mouthpieces with wind blowing the music about.

One lovely aspect was the dogs in attendance: four of these well-behaved, unleashed creatures were a joy to watch, playing on the hill, reminding us to play and be joyful.

This was our Jack's doppelganger.

Rome in March

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The Disputation of the Sacrament by Raphael

I'm tempted to leave the title as "Rome - under construction," because it is such a work in progress. We just don't find this depth of history (literally) in America. Rome truly has thousands of years, and layers, of history. Trying to build another branch of the subway is so much more than planning and government approvals; history is uncovered with every shovelful, and, to their credit, this history is valued.

Traveling to Rome

We took the train from Ulverston to Manchester Airport. It's such a luxury (for us) to be able to do this, with only a ten-minute walk to the station. Walking through town with our wheelie suitcases, clickety-click, clickety-click, clickety-click, over the curbs and cobblestones, everyone must have known the Yanks were traveling. We were glad that Hal had reserved train seats, as it got very crowded. Many people were standing in the aisles for the second half of the two-hour train ride.

At the terminal, the consumer excess of duty-free shops (DFS) confronted us. These are not shops lining the sides of the terminal mall: they ARE the terminal mall. We had to walk amidst the goods to get to our gate. Once through the gauntlet of DFS, we hurried to our gate, only to discover there were no vendors in this part of the terminal. No water, no food. Toilets, yes. Between the doors to mens and womens was a sign marked, "Cleaners Sluice." Interesting. Too bad I didn't have the camera with me.

Our layover in Zurich was too short. With more traffic than gates, our plane parked in nowhereland; we climbed down portable stairs, and took a bus to the terminal. Our passports were stamped by a grouchy Swiss customs official who reprimanded me for not standing behind the line. Camel provided a lovely Smoking Lounge (right). Such a thoughtful and caring company.
We arrived at our departure gate on the far side of the airport with boarding already in progress. Whew!

At Rome airport (already inside the EU), no customs! We waited for 90 minutes at carousel 9 for our luggage. Suitcases came and suitcases went. No red suitcase for me; no green suitcase for Hal. We thought we were traveling light, but the maximum carryon size for this flight was smaller than we expected, so we had to check our little suitcases. Too bad for us, because now they were lost! Woe was us! Customer service suggested we try carousel 11 before we filed a claim. Reunion with our luggage was sweet.

Our nonstop train into the center of Rome had compartments, just like in old movies. We walked two blocks to Hotel Morgana, home for the next three nights. Nice hotel: good buffet breakfast, comfortable bed, small room with en-suite (attached) bath; English-speaking staff. Our room (left) overlooked a central courtyard (right) - not pretty, but interesting with wash hung several stories up.

The hotel elevators were incredibly tiny 2- and 3-person contraptions. Luggage optional. I couldn't resist a photo (left).

The weather was about 10 degrees (C) warmer than Ulverston. High 50s (F)-low 60s. Trees were in bloom; lemon and orange trees lined the streets. We loved seeing trees on top of buildings. No rain. No snow. No coats needed during the day, though it got chilly after the sun went down.

The desk clerk recommended only one restaurant, Nuovo Stella (right). We thought it must be a relative's establishment, but decided they were right: the food was good and the waiter attentive. We ate dinner there every night, and he remembered us after the first night.

St. Patrick's Day in Rome

We took a hop-on-hop-off bus tour of Rome, sitting on top in the open air, with headphones for the guided tour. I was moving about, taking photos, and my headphones were disconnected half the time, so I missed much of the commentary. It was St. Patrick's Day. We saw a mob of footballers on a pub crawl: "12 pubs in 12 hours," proclaimed their green t-shirts. The bus drove past the Pope speaking to a small crowd at St. Peter's (left), with big-screen TVs for the masses. Apparently he was apologizing, in his way, to Irish Catholics for the priest-sexual-abuse scandal. Later that day, the Brazilian priest scandal was breaking news. When will the Vatican take action? And when will the victims find justice?

We ate lunch at an outside cafe in the sun. Even though we'd been warned about the prices, we had to find out for ourselves. Lunch cost as much as supper the night before. For an afternoon treat, we tried a bar that advertised "crepes." I'm a sucker for crepes. Big mistake. Our travel guidebook warned against "bars," but again, we had to try it. One capuccino, one tea, and a crepe were 23 euros. Our dinner last night was only 27 euros for fettucine alfredo, pizza, water, and a small bottle of wine. Sheesh.

Nearly every block contained a building with a madonna plaque or painting.

I watched men laying cobblestones for a new piazza. Such an old trade being practiced in modern times.

Forum and Colisseum

The Roman Forum was overwhelming. So much to see; so many ruins; so many emperors making monuments to themselves! Oddly, Caesar's tomb (right) was the smallest and humblest of them all. A wreath hung on it, noting the Ides of March.

There were so many ruins to explore.

At first the Colisseum seemed like so many other sports arenas, with rows upon rows of tiered seating.

We came to notice the center section, site of the action. More fascinating, however, were the hallways below the arena (above right is a partial floor with lower hallways exposed; below is a closeup of the lower hallways).

Imagine waiting your turn to fight. Was it dark and damp? What else shared your cell? Vermin? Large creatures? Was it noisy with roaring and stamping of feet, and cries of pain? The odor must have been overpowering, with sweat and excrement, and mold.

Vatican Museum

The last day we took the English-language Vatican Museum tour, viewing a small portion of the Church's wealth. Hal reserved our tickets in advance. The lines for non-ticketholders was around the block - hours long.
Our guide began with an admonition to her English and American charges "to be pushy" when necessary. Italians don't queue and neither should we. We're too polite for our own good! The painted ceilings, such as these at left, appeared 3-dimensional with frames, but it was all done with paint. Trompe l'oil. Trick of the eye.
An ancient Greek marble statue of Laocoon and His Sons (being strangled by sea serpents) .

My favorite painting was The School of Athens, illustrating the reconciliation of philosophy and astrology with theology. Details are shown left and right. Plato (in red) and Aristotle are the center of attention. Raphael inserted Michelangelo's portrait into the painting, depicting Heraclitus in brown garments. At right, Euclid or Archimedes demonstrates the compass to his students. The figure in blue, lying on the steps, may be Socrates with his cup of hemlock.
At right is the spiraling staircase of the Vatican Museum.

I think it took 2 hours in room after room of amazing paintings and tapestries and ceiling/wall art before we reached the Sistine Chapel. By then we were suffering from art overload, and the ceiling seemed like just another "nice" work. Photography was not allowed there. I'm sure there wasn't time for the guide to show us everything, but we didn't see the Pieta; Hal glimpsed the statue of David down a hallway. We missed St. Peter's Basilica, because we couldn't look at anything more. Fresh air and food were needed.

Afternoon Stroll

The afternoon was more leisurely, wandering about the city. Trevi Fountain (above) was noticeably cooler than surrounding areas. The Pantheon (left), world's largest unreinforced concrete building, built in 126 A.D. has a 25-foot-diameter oculus (hole) in the dome; precipitation can fall through, but drains on the slanted floor below. I'm not doing it justice for it is a remarkable building which has withstood numerous earthquakes and wars. Navorna Piazza (right) was an interesting mix of sculpture, gardens, outdoor cafes and street artists.

We saw 2 of the 8 ancient Egyptian obelisks (left) in Rome. Passing carabinieri HQ (state police), I was oblivious to a group of high-ranking officials strolling down the street, but did see the motorcade following. On right is the Ponte Vittorio Emmanuele II over the Tiber River.

We saw curbside petrol stations, acres of parked motorcycles and scooters, dangerous speeding bicycles, and lots of homeless people. This plastic-wrapped cocoon contained a man on a sofa.

Our last afternoon in Rome, we did a crazy thing: hopped on the metro during rush hour. The doors opened to a crush of people. I squeezed on, with Hal behind pushing me farther in. We didn't think another body could get on, but 5 more people jumped on after us. Most people took our sardineness agreeably. But when the train swerved suddenly, and Hal nearly fell on a small woman, she was not amused.

I loved the earth-toned buildings and shuttered windows, the balconies, the plants. And the weather. I can't wait to return, having thrown my coin in Trevi Fountain.

Hadrian's Wall Illumination

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Crag Lough and Steel Rigg

Volunteers set up 500 torches (complete with ye olde propane tankes) at 250-meter intervals along the 73-mile length of Hadrian's Wall. (I've seen different lengths quoted, including 80 Roman miles.) They were approximately 250 meters apart, and there were a few glitches, but it was spectacular, nonetheless.

We chose a portion in the middle of the wall for our viewing, between Greenhead and Humshaugh. The site below discusses the Illumination; the homepage has a map showing our location above Crag Lough.

http://www.nationaltrail.co.uk/hadrianswall/article.asp?PageId=3&ArticleId=107

The wee little ants trudging up the pile of rocks (no, they did not scurry) are the modern-day slaves of the Empire: volunteers bearing the materiel required for this spectacle.













We did wonder about the sentries of old who kept these fires burning for the Empire. What was their fuel and where did they get it? Wood appears scarce here, but once upon a time these hills were covered with trees.

We chose not to climb Steel Rigg (the rocky outcrop shown above and upper right), but a nearby hill where we would be able to see the fires atop Steel Rigg. Our hill was topped with an obelisk marker (see right), indicating we were at the highest elevation in the area.

The Wall itself could be seen in places, and sometimes with the accompanying ditch. The ditch was built 20-feet wide at the top, and 10-feet deep. This has mostly been filled in, but can be seen on right side of the upper photo and left side of lower photo on as a slightly ower green line.

In this area, the wall consisted of squared limestone blocks along the sides, with a rubble-and-cement filler. Over the years much of the wall was dismantled by farmers and builders who found "better" uses for the stones. In the 19th century, John Clayton bought up land along the path of the wall, and had the wall reconstructed, seven courses high.

The height and width of the original wall varied. Original plans indicate the wall should be 10-feet wide in places, 20 feet in others. [Not sure if that plan materialized.] Evidence suggests the wall averaged 15 feet in height. The portions visible now are about 4 feet high. [I planned to insert 2 videos of the wall, but have not yet mastered the art of uploading video; or perhaps it's a problem with our broadband connection: The first video shows the remaining face stones on the lower wall with rubble above. The second looks at a wall end, illustrating the rubble filler.]

Wall construction 1 (face stones)

Wall construction 2 (rubble filler)

The lichen growing on the wall is quite colorful, mostly blue-green, but also white, rusty gold and lemon yellow. At right is a lichen-grown "map" of a long-lost land. [Note: I hear locals say, "lich-en," rather than "like-en," which I have always used.]

The late afternoon light and sky were lovely, reminding us of western skies. This herd of cattle came to welcome us, or maybe to wait for dinner.






I wondered if the 2-tone brown cows might be beefalo.

A Roman centurion allowed modern photography. He was a big brute of a fellow, made even larger by his regalia. At right, volunteers testing a torch prior to the official lighting.

The light arrived late by more than an hour. We weren't sure where to look for the light, and were surprised by some locations when it did arrive. It finally came over the horizon, with each torch signalling the next. On Steel Rigg, below us, more than 15 torches were lit.

Torchlights are seen as the first row of lights, running across the middle of the photos. The second line is from cars traveling on the road.
We climbed that hill twice: once in the afternoon, which turned out to be a scouting operation; a second time in early evening, for the Illumination. It was a steep climb, and we planned on doing it once, but it was too cold to wait in the wind, so we made our way to shelter.
Down the hill we went for afternoon tea at the Twice Brewed Inn. Then back up the hill to wait for the lights. Then down again, for dinner at the inn, whilst waiting for the traffic jam to clear. (The English use "whilst" much more than "while.") The pub name is curious. According to a BBC website, during 18th-century construction of an east-west road, workers were unimpressed by the weak ale at this pub, and demanded that it be brewed again; hence Twice-Brewed. The next-door walkers' hostel is named Once Brewed. According to the same source, when teetotalling Lady Trevelyan opened the hostel in 1934, she noted, in reference to the Inn, "Of course there will be no alcohol served on these premises so I hope the tea and coffee will only be brewed once." Ah, British humor.

BBC news coverage of the event has footage taken at our location.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/8565759.stm