I doubt you can walk more than ten metres through a traditional Portuguese town and not spot a ceramic tile or several! The unique craft of azulejos portugueses is an unmistakable feature of these lovely old houses. And just as you can’t walk far without seeing them, I find it impossible to walk any distance without photographing some!
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I couldn’t go to the Faro area and not meet up with blogging friend Restless Jo, could I? Or perhaps I could! We planned to meet, naturally, but on the day fate intervened and our coffee date had to be … not cancelled, I hope, but certainly indefinitely postponed.
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When we visited Tavira for the day from our weekend base in Faro, I couldn’t help noticing the life-size statue of a soldier outside the station. He holds his kit bag in his right hand while his left is raised in farewell.
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One of the delights of a spring break somewhere a little warmer than home is of course to get out and enjoy the sunshine. And if you can do so by the sea, so much the better. I’m not one for lying baking on a tropical beach; I can’t take the heat and I get easily bored. But I love the sea: the sound of waves on the shore, the fresh sea air.
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Never go back, they say. And in fact, I rarely do. But occasionally I make an exception, and especially if I have fallen for a place while visiting without my husband and want to introduce him to it. Riga and Tallinn were in the past such places, and now Faro, on Portugal’s Algarve coast, has joined them.
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On our recent visit to Faro I found myself often looking down at my feet as I walked around. This was partly out of necessity; there were plenty of broken or uneven cobbles to trip me up! But it was also due to my fascination with the traditional patterns of the Portuguese pavements.
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The Basilica of the Sacred Heart of Paris, to give it its full name, seems to divide opinion. Built only in the early 20th century, I have seen some commentators criticise it as an eye-sore. Others (actually often the same people) abhor the reasons behind its construction. Its inspiration was the defeat of French troops during the Franco-Prussian War, which some felt was due to spiritual rather than political causes.
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March has been a quiet month for photography, on the whole. It started slowly as I searched, sometimes in vain, for subjects that inspired me. Then halfway through the month spring started to arrive. Trees burst into blossom, shortly followed by my beloved magnolias.
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Now every field is clothed with grass, and every tree with leaves; now the woods put forth their blossoms, and the year assumes its gay attire. This quote from Virgil, who lived in the first century BCE, is a reminder that spring has inspired writers throughout the centuries. I wonder if it’s the most written-about season of all?
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When I included some magnolia flower images in my recent monochrome spring flowers post it was to celebrate their sculptural forms in particular. But while black and white really emphasises those forms, draining them of colour isn’t to everyone’s taste. And to be honest the shapes are just as beautiful and distinctive in colour; while the different shades from pure white through delicate pinks to deep reds and purple are equally worth celebrating.
