You must have been living on Mars, or as a hermit, not to have heard that Queen Elizabeth II passed away last week. Here in the UK we are in a period of official mourning such as most of us have never experienced. Whether you are a fervent monarchist, staunch republican or (like me) somewhere on a scale between those two extremes, it’s hard not to be fascinated by the sense of history that surrounds us right now.
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We only occasionally get the chance to watch a street artist at work. Somehow these works of art seem to appear almost magically on our streets, created perhaps overnight while we sleep? Some of course take many hours, even days, to complete. But others are much simpler and while they may have less impact still brighten our day.
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How many windows is too many? That was the question facing many seventeenth century property owners. In 1696 a window tax was introduced in England and Wales. The more windows a building had, the more its owner had to pay.
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Around a 450 year old fort on the edge of the Thar Desert a small town has grown up, consisting of little more than a market, some shops and a bus station. These serve the surrounding rural community and those who work in the fort, which is today is both home to the Thakurs, former rulers of the Kingdom of Khimsar, who built it, and also a heritage hotel.
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Kerala can be regarded as consisting of three parallel environments, running north to south down the state. There is the coastal strip and backwaters, where the emphasis is on fishing and trade; the slightly higher agricultural strip where pineapples, bananas and a variety of other crops are grown; and the so-called High Range, part of the Western Ghat, where tea, coffee and spices predominate.
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Anyone who has spent even five minutes exploring my blog will know that I love to travel. The world is full of wonderful places to explore! But I have to admit that there are some pretty wonderful places right on my doorstep too.
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Most people visit Cape Verde for the classic three Ss: sun, sea and sand. We came mainly for the first of these, in search of some February warmth. In truth it wasn’t as warm as we’d hoped, so maybe it was a good thing we had relatively little interest in the other two.
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Brick Lane, in London’s East End, was once among the poorest slums in the capital. It takes its name from the 15th century brick and tile production based in this area. Like all poor city districts it became a magnet for various groups of immigrants over the centuries. First Jews, then French Huguenots, then Irish established communities here over the centuries, and later Bangladeshi-Sylheti immigrants settled here and made the street famous for its restaurants.
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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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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.
