steps in Cesky Krumlov

IMGP4820, originally uploaded by smoooch.

One of those situations where you wander into an run down or abandoned building and you're clearly in a place you shouldn't be but it gets you some great shot and then you quickly get out. That's where I got this.

the in and the out

The outside, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Right. Remember this lovely post, when I first saw this window and knocked on the door and politely explained my purpose in Brussels and graciously asked the nice blond woman if I could see the inside and she pretty much said no. Well, I went back. And the spanish construction worker doing some reno work on the apartment let me in to see the other side of the windows. Here it is.

The inside, originally uploaded by smoooch.
I wonder how the snobby blonde woman would react if she knew??

not mine but I think it's very cool

twenty and forty, originally uploaded by ◄Kentigern►.

I am a passenger.

The muffled sound of music can be heard. Just audible, drum beats and bass clap their hands in the invisible air. The tiny white ear buds are instantly recognized. A member of the Ipod army. She sits down next to me on the bus. Grey pant suit noticed as I glanced quickly at the filled space next to me. The bus is sweaty with condensation from the breath of so many riders and the rain falling outside. Umbrellas dripping moisture onto paper shopping bags. Manicured nails clutch the tan leather handbag that almost passed as quality, but there's something secretly cheap about mass manufactured goods to appeal to the gleam of high fashion magazine ad admirers. She wears a fitted grey wool coat, blond hair hitting it softly at the shoulders. I glance at her face. Her make up is neither subtle or heavy but almost seems like a toned down version of a garish night out. She looks like a legal assistant with a dark secret. The aroma of music wafts between us and I ponder if she listens to anything else other than heavy metal.

Little Lamb

Little Lamb, originally uploaded by smoooch.

The collection.

The collection of photos from the little European Holiday.

If you love something let me know. And of course...

Prints are available.

You can contact me at justajill@lush.com.

Having lunch with Jacques Cousteau.

"The World's First All-glass Undersea Restaurant opens in The Maldives. April 15 marks the day that the first ever all-glass
undersea restaurant in the world opens its doors for business at the Hilton Maldives Resort & Spa. It will sit five meters below the waves of the Indian Ocean, surrounded by a vibrant coral reef and encased in clear acrylic offering diners 270-degrees of panoramic underwater views."

Wow. The Ithaa is a highly exclusive affair for only 15 people at a time.Can you imagine having dinner in an underwater acrylic tube? Going to the bathroom must be surreal. Would it have the same stunning views as you did your business with a local school of fish travelling by? Flushing?? Or how about having a plate of freshly caught snapper as a gaggle of them drift by?

I have to admit it's really stunning and enticing and I'm surprised it hasn't opened sooner. We have the option of living in a hotel entirely made of ice so why not a restaurant underwater. I have one curious question though.. do they have submarine sandwiches on the menu??

Very cool, either way. Thanks to Sonia for the tip.

Mona Lisa has a moon.

IMGP5876, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Captured in Bristol.

decoration

IMGP5595, originally uploaded by smoooch.

Beautiful ornamentation like this is commonplace above the doorways and buildings of the remaining Art Nouveau houses and buildings in Brussels. It was nearly impossible to photograph most of it that could really capture the quality and presence, but I did get this one.

Art Nouveau architects undertook every aspect of a buildings design, down to the doorknobs, air vents, foot scrapers and letterboxes, which was a good thing for me as I photographed those quite a bit better. But not only did Art Nouveau affect building design but also furniture, fixtures, carpets, even kitchen utensils. The poster arts were another area influenced by Art Nouveau, as seen in the work by Mucha. Decoration was obviously an important aspect of this period of art, often including stained glass, mosaics or sgraffito that I photographed above. Inspiration from the designs came from the natural world, flowing lines, organic forms, including Victor Horta's famous whiplash movement.

get the hint

get the hint, originally uploaded by smoooch.

I saw this walking down a back lane in Bristol.

sweet

I came home to find a card from my loving sister Catherine.

"Sometimes 'right back where you started from' is right where you belong."
Welcome back from your adventure.

Thanks Catherine. It was really really nice to come home to that card. It all seems a bit hazy and surreal to be back home.

Just call me

Jet lagged Jill.

I flew 10 hours into sunlight. I left Heathrow at 12:30pm local and arrived at 2:30 pm local, except I spent 10 hours someone in space. Michael, the dear, took me out for a rather posh Curry restaurant and tried to keep me up as long as possible. I got up at 4:30 am, which considering it's equivalent time zone in Europe (12:30pm) that's a pretty good lie in. Ruby slept right next to me the whole night unlike sleeping on her little spot closer to the wall. So nice to be welcomed back.

I just hope no one minds that I'm doing laundry and cleaning up

one que after another

That's what airports are. One long line after another. If you're not in line for security, you're in line to try and get rid of the last of your foreign money. Heathrow is one of the world's busiest airports and yet I managed to run into someone I knew. Off in the distance I could hear, "Hi Jill." Like a distant echo, it repeated. Vaguely familiar, never associated with myself until someone grabbed my arm and the words made their way through the layers of protective strategies to block out the many many sounds around me. We ended up taking the same flight but I didn't see her again until 9 hours into attempts to entertain myself resulted in a wander around the strange creature hurtling us though the upper atmospheres of travel. I was standing in another que, this one for a bathroom when I saw her sitting a few rows back, and waved.

I'm home. Clothes which I now resent strewn around the floor. Gifts and parcels long ago bought unpacked and Ruby petted, the boyfriend revisited.

xoxo
Jill

on my home

I photographed 3 Banksy's today while on a really great walk around town with Michael's younger sister victoria. Later I met his older sister, Trish. They are clearly both very fond of Michael. His whole family is really really nice, and I'm very fortunate to have the opportunity to have met them.

It's been a really fantatsic ending to my whole trip.

xoxo
Jill

Ps.. see you when I get home...

Brasserie

Brasserie, originally uploaded by smoooch.

A favorite, snapped in Paris.

Bristol

Yesterday I arrived by train to Bristol to spend my last days in England with Michael's sister Victoria and her husband Martin and the enchanting 4 year old Katherine.

Today, Katherine stood on a chair in the kitchen and in an exasperated voice, exclaimed to her mother, "but I caaannnnn'tttt wait not another moment for my breakfast." Oddly, it was reminiscent of of Michael saying, "But I can't wait another moment, I'm going to expire immediately if I don't have a coffee."

Mnn...genetics.

Later, we'll go into town and I'll have a chance to photograph 2 Banksy's that are here. Ironically, Banksy is originally from |Bristol, but I don't think I'll have time to find all the peices he has here.

But I know of this one and this one.

So a bit of graffiti and a bit of the fella's family. A really nice ending to a pretty fantastic trip.

xoxo
jill

tick tock

I can't believe my trip is nearly over. Depending on the moment it seems like I have been away for along time or sometimes it seems like it was only yesterday. Travelling with 2 changes of clothes in a backpack is a funny endevor to take on. In the midst of it, it can suck. You get dirty. Your clothes are smelly slept in creatures. You sleep in rooms with people who snore loudly or smell funny or won't cease the ongoing party or they get up dreafully early and slam door and zip and unzip bags without mercy for your slumbering ears. When you travel alone, you suffer through navigating foreign languages in dingy bus and train stations. It seems as though the whole world can see that you are alone and vulnerable and confused. And especially the scary people definitly know this, or at least that's what you tell yourself.

In order to travel one must inevitable transport oneself from one place to another. It's a dreadful to take this on.

"Bonjour, je n'parle pas francais. Tu parle anglais?"

Then you mangle your way through a conversation hoping that you are booking the right room for the right day and the right ticket going to the right place and you understand the time and where to get the bus. You need to navigate phone numbers 20 didgits long and try and get directions to that far away room in a dorm and hopefully arrive there safe all with not loosing your camera, bag, money or mind. Of course you need to repeat this for everything you do, from getting directions or following a map for the laundrette, grocery store, or anything else you want to see or need. And you walk and walk and walk. If you get on that bus, do you know where it's going?? How will you get back if you get too far?? Taxi's are not an option when you shoestring it around.

I think it many ways its better to do this alone. I would be much more distracted by another person to keep a watchful eye on all my belongings. I would get careless and compacent with another person travelling with me. There is a sense of security provided by another person and it's not reliable in the times you may need it the most. True, whn your lost at that distant tram station, with the sun setting quickly, it's less scary with your friend there, but when your both laughing in a relaxed moment and then next thing you know, you've dropped your wallet somewhere.. well then its not so great.

Poole has been really lovely. The weather has continued to be warm and lovely and sunny. Every Tuesday night, bikers and motorcycle enthusiasts come from all around to park down on the quay and admire each others bikes and matching outfits. It was quite a specticle. In fact it was as though Sturgis had come to Poole for the day. I had a pint of my favorite Strongbow cider with blackcurrent cordial, of which you can't get in most 'pubs' in Canada despite their immitation of the English way of life. Later I had an amazing dinner of marinated chicken with mint, almonds, and artichokes in a cream sause, with basmati rice. Later in my hotel, I had a 'sticky toffee pudding' while I watched the TV. I slept like a rock.

I leave tomorrow for Bristol to visit the boyfriend's family. Looking forward to it. I've spoken to them on the phone and they're looking forward to meeting me. I think it will be lots of fun.

Strangely, I am looking forward to getting back to my own bed, my feather duvet and pillows, my cat, the boyfriend and having an incoming flow of money rather than just the outgoing, and the usual routine. And of course a bit more travelling in my own country....

xoxo
Jill

changes

Lovely how a big bed, feather pillows, a TV and a private bathroom can equal so much comfort after slumming in hostels and overnight sleeps on the bus.

Too bad that when I flicked on the TV, the news of the school shooting in the US was plastered on all 3 available channels. My thoughts go out to those family and firends that have lost someone so senselessly.

riding the rails

IMGP4366, originally uploaded by smoooch.

There's something that 's really exhilerating about navigating huge subway sytems like the London Tube.

Having a blast in London despite asnag with picking up a package I left behind. Probably the lack of sleep and proper food.

xoxo
Jill

transporting

Holy moly. I cannot believe the trip I have had. If I could have afforded the train, it would have clearly been the better choice. I jumped on a train in Brugge that was packed and ended up spending the 1 hr trip sitting on the floor in the train car boarding area. I got to Brussels literally 2 hours early as I thought the bus left at 10 pm but it actually left at 10:45, or at least it was supposed to. Afetr walking around and eating the only food that was available to me out of vending machines, the bus arrived an hour late and didn't leave for 2 as the bus driver had to meticulously record every detail of every passport on the full to capacity bus. Couldn't that have been done in advance??

During the trip we stopped for 1/2 hour at a gas station for reasons unknown. We went through the Calais (France)/ Dover (England) border. Had to get off again when we boarded the ferry and have our bags x-rayed, get back on the bus and then get off for the ferry trip. There, I had the unfortunate incident of being cornered by a fellow passenger who asked me how Christianity was in Canada and used that comment to launch into a nonstop explanation of his faith. I broke away.

However, at one point, and this is a bit funny, I went in search of hot food and saw a que in line for what looked like breakfast. So I fell in line. The usual English breaky of sunnyside up eggs (yuck. luckily there was scrambled.), fried bread (Really, what are they thinking? That and cold toast? I don't get the appeal but I had some.), ham bacon, some kind of fat sausage, fried tomatoes and french fries. Packets of jam, brown sauce, malt vinegar, and ketchup waited for us at the end. And it seemed that no matter what you had, you paid £3.20. OK. Well, it also seemed that the room was too small for all the passengers on the boat and that they only ones eating this breakfast were quite burly and tattooed. Then I saw the door sign that read "For Transport Drivers Only". Oops. I masqueraded as a lorry driver and got a cheap breaky. Best part of the trip.

Well, I have finally arrived in London. It's 9 am and I was supposed to be here at 6. Off to find London Fields, the home of a friend of Michael's and where I stayed when I first arrived, to pick up a gift for Michael's niece and then onwards to Poole for activities that because are work related are never mentioned in detail here.

Hope everyone back home is doing well. I miss you.

xoxo
Jill