Tag Archives: winter

Damaged Drives and A Wintery Pause

It’s been an odd week — I can’t say otherwise. I had a catastrophic hard drive failure on one of my MacBook Pro computers, so I spent an entire week getting things sorted out.

We have no authorized Apple stores anywhere near where we live in rural France and I didn’t fancy trying to ship off a computer when it was 3 weeks until Christmas. As it was, I was rather staggered when I spoke to one authorised Apple repair place outside of Paris and they quoted €99 for the diagnosis, over €500 for the new hard drive installation, and up to €1,000 to recover the information on the hard drive. I had called them on Skype and Mark heard the entire conversation. After I hung up, I turned to him saying, “If I have to spend that much money, I might as well wait until the after-Christmas sales and buy a new one!”

Through sheer stubbornness and bizarre optimism, I managed to clone the hard drive on the working computer, wipe and reformat the damaged hard drive on the dead one, load the cloned information over onto the wiped drive, and get the damaged one up and running again. I have no idea how long that drive will last, but trust me, it will get backed up every single day if new information goes onto it!

My really, REALLY amazing bit of handiwork though was recovering all of Mark’s ‘lost’ photos from Barcelona. I kept downloading test versions of expensive software programs that claimed to be able to ‘find’ images on digital camera drives even if they had been deleted. Day after day I tried program after program with no success until finally, amazingly, one of them showed me ALL of the photos on the SD cards. I was stunned since the computer said that they were empty, yet the software was clearly showing me the photos. And yes — I now have all 761 of Mark’s Barcelona images on both computers and on a back-up drive as well. Whew! It was an exhausting week of highs and lows that ended splendidly.

The rest of my photo essays from Salvadore Dali’s Museum in Figueres, Spain will be up soon. But this past weekend was spent doing things with the darling Mark since it was his birthday.

Gifts were presented on Sunday morning and then after a nice lunch in a nearby cafe, we took a drive in the countryside up into the Midi-Pyrenees mountains where Mark is currently working on a large barn-conversion-into-residence project. I knew that there was snow and ice up there since he had already gotten stuck in a ditch once this past week, had a ride inside the cab of the snowplow, and then he and the snowplow driver pulled him out of the ditch. But little did I know that he had a bit of an ‘adventure’ in mind for me.

Mark at barn-conversion-into-residence job site in the Midi-Pyrenees of France

We drove through Massat and then Mark turned onto a one lane road that had multiple hairpin turns and which wound higher and higher up that mountain range. I was getting white-knuckled by this time since there were no guard rails along the road, no place to pull off if there was any kind of difficulty, and it was a huge plunge if you went off the side of the road anywhere!

Snow covered mountains of the Midi-Pyrenees in December 2012

Up and up we went and then the worst-case-scenario arrived in the form of an old blue van which was going down the one lane road as we were trying to go up. We each backed up a bit to see if there was any room to pass one another, and just as the blue van got stuck in the ice at the edge of the road, Mark continued to back up DOWN that road and he began to move toward one of those sharp curves. It wasn’t my finest hour — I admit that freely — but I suddenly shouted, “Stop! I am getting out!” I was shaking all over from fright and the mental image of us plunging off the side of the road at that curve.

Mark walked up the road, helped the people in the van get out of the ice and back on their way down the one lane road, and somehow without shearing off our side mirror and with the woman driving whilst the two men shoved at the side and back to keep the van on the road and not plunging off the right side, they managed to pass with a whisker’s distance between the two vehicles.

Back in our own vehicle and with a bit of ice and mud being flung into the air, we spun our way out of the very narrow ditch we were parked in. I was close to tears and Mark realised that, given the road conditions, perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea after all. But I was calm again by the time that we got to the top — another 5 minutes of white-knuckle driving time — and the photos above show the view from the top. This is where Mark has been working every day for the last several months and I had to admit that it was quite a special place to go to work each day.

You may or may not be able to see the small black shapes in the deep shadows. Apparently a small herd of Pyrenees horses arrived this past week and they are being wintered in that paddock next to the construction site.

I’ll be returning to more posts from Barcelona and Figueres in the coming days — so come back soon!

Below Zero in Brehal, France

This may be the Normandy coast of France and yes, I know that our temperatures here are a few degrees warmer than they are at our friend Polly’s house 35 minutes inland from here. But the below zero temps we’re having are a shock to the body!!!

Oh my! It is below zero in Brehal, France!

Brrr!!! It is below zero and windy in Brehal, France!

Deborah is smiling in the sunshine in spite of the below zero temperatures in Brehal, France.

Each and every puddle in the road that is left over from last week’s rains is frozen solid and the pond at the end of the lane looks like a small skating rink.

Iced-over puddles in Brehal, France

We kept the walk with the dogs briefer than usual because every intake of breath was a bit painful. As you can see in the photos above, I was bundled to the eyeballs and underneath that heavy wool coat, long wool scarf, wool hat, and lined leather gloves that are visible, I had on lots of layers — leggings, a thick pair of baggy track pants, a long-sleeve thermal shirt, a turtleneck, a long-sleeve cashmere sweater. I was still freezing and my face ached!

Mark seemed fine as he wrangled with the spaniels, but he did admit that his face was feeling icy.

Mark walking the spaniels on the beach in winter in France.

I can’t even imagine sailing on a day that was so cold, but the sun was bright, the skies were clear, and this man with the red sailboat was dressed in waterproof sports clothing and he decided to give it a go. Unfortunately, the boat seems to have been hit by a wave and shoved onto the beach a bit too far up the beach from the preferred destination. So, after making certain that the small boat was firmly wedged against the sand and it wouldn’t float way, the sailor gave up and walked down the beach to get his truck and boat-trailer.

Walking away from a red sailboat to get the boat-trailer

Ah well — back to the sofa with a blanket around my legs while I edit photos!

Head Down and Hammering Away

Head down and hammering away has a dual meaning this week. I’ve been head down and hammering away on the keyboard as I worked and head down as the rain and ice hammered away each time I left the house. Thus, I haven’t had much spare time during the last week and my apologies for the lack of posts. But between moving from the beach house in Brehal to a charming stone cottage in Moyon a few days ago and my other ‘tasks’ — it would appear that I’ve been remiss in posting online.

The rain here in Normandy has been a daily event for over two full weeks. This precipitation might be making the farmers and the people who monitor the levels of the aquifers thrilled, but it has spoiled any chance that I’ve had for splendid daytime photographs in this most charming part of France. Atmospheric photos of glossy-rainy reflections are one thing, but exposing my Nikons to gale force winds and horizontal rain mixed with chunky hail is quite another thing altogether!

I’ve managed to get in some good writing time this week on the new travel book though, so yes, progress of some kind has been made even if there is no photo documentation of that. And I’m researching the idea of producing this next book only in e-book format instead of the traditional print version plus e-book. Now that Kindles and iPads are so popular, it seems like a logical next step.

I’ll post more information about the book as it unfolds. And have a happy lead-up-to-Christmas week, everyone!

Sunless Edinburgh Sunday

The semi-permanent gray of the Edinburgh skies merged with the soot-tinged stone buildings that comprise much of the city and formed a subdued winter palette for my photography. Some find the colour tones of this city to be too somber for their taste. I find it soothing. And when there is a bright spot, whether it is provided by nature or the paintbrush, it stands out all the more against the blackened stone.

Leith street scene

The dinosaurs were waiting at the end of Constitution Street. Three hulking cranes, long abandoned and now a residence for pigeons, stood with arms raised high into the slate-gray skies. We had followed the sound of seagulls until we discovered the less prosperous part of the harbour and the detritus of its former glory days.

Abandoned cranes at Leith waterside

On we went, hoping for more inspirational things to view than that particularly derelict harbour area and our patience was rewarded. A mere few blocks on we discovered a canalside area with former industrial buildings turned into apartments, restaurants and pubs, open-air sculpture, and scenes reminiscent of Amsterdam with canal boats pulled up alongside the walkway and bicycles chained out front. Charming!

Canalside in Leith

We had walked for hours and a light, misty rain began to touch our cheeks. Time for a restorative tea break! And after peeking into window after window on our stroll back up Constitution Street toward the house, we chose a cafe named Rock Salt and settled in to rest our legs and warm our bodies.

Rock Salt Cafe interior

Time to end for now and edit some photos for GreenWorks. I’m hoping to have a sneak peek at the promotional artwork that I am designing for them in the next day or so. Bye for now!

Out and About in Edinburgh

I have to say quite truthfully, I was both laughing and stunned when I saw these people out the front window of the house where we are staying in Edinburgh yesterday afternoon. The temperatures are so icy that I go out each day dressed in layers — long underwear top and bottom, a turtleneck, a pair of jeans, a sweater/jumper over the top, and then a thick wool coat and insulated gloves. Mark was dressed in similar layers yesterday and he still wasn’t completely comfortable (as he told me several times!).

So how were the people in the picture below coping with the wind swishing by their faces and heads? Is this a case of Scottish Madness???? Or are they just a much sturdier set of folks than we who have been living in Australia for so long?

Mad Scotsfolk on Wintery Drive

We had a day off yesterday and we walked around the streets of the city. Most people were bundled up appropriately, but I had to wonder how the kilt clad men managed as the icy winds swirled around us. Or do they even notice the temps after a lifetime of such conditions?

Edinburgh Street Piper

Happily, the wintery conditions mean that there are far fewer tourists here than during the spring, summer, or festival seasons. But Edinburgh seems to be bustling with activity in a way that I didn’t find the norm during my last visit 15 years ago. So trying to stop on the pavement to take a photo without getting jostled is actually a bit of a challenge. Ah well!

Edinburgh contains an abundance of photo subject matter and the architecture is substantial, mainly built of stone, and frequently on the monumental scale. In a five hour period, I took over 300 photos yesterday.

Sphinx Atop National Gallery of Scotland in Edinburgh

I’ll be back in a day or two with another report before we leave Scotland mid-week. Stay tuned for more!

The Peaceful Ghosts of Tivetshall St. Mary

The glorious front facade still stands, but quite how I do not know. The structural side walls have long since detached themselves or crumbled into the soil, yet the arches continue to soar upward and reach for the heavens. The only sound we heard that afternoon at Tivetshall St. Mary in rural Norfolk were the birds and a very distant tractor. The ruins are silent, peaceful, and not the least bit eerie.

Ruin of St. Mary's Church at Tivetshall, Norfolk, UK

How the world has transformed itself in the centuries since this structure was registered in the Domesday Book in 1086 as an already established church. It must have seemed that it would live on forever as an active parish church, but the records of 1702 indicate that there was already great concern about the amount of decay that was evident and worry about whether the church might simply fall down.

It did not fall down though and, fragile though it might have been, it stood there in a Norfolk field for over 240 more years.

East Anglia was abuzz with activity during the 1930s and 1940s as airfield after airfield was created to deal with the war in Europe. Each day, waves of military planes flew across the English Channel and then, if they were lucky, those planes returned after their bombing runs were completed. In spite of the German bombs that rained down on the East of England during World War II, the stone walls of St. Mary’s remained upright and the roof remained intact.

But a mere two years after the end of that war, a military plane flew too low over the fields one day in 1947 and pulled up at the last minute to avoid hitting the woods beyond. The staggering amount of vibration from the plane roaring overhead simply shredded the last bit of strength in the old church and the tower of the church collapsed into the nave. The roof collapsed immediately.

There were witnesses to the event who happened to be on site that day, but the military refused to take any credit for the damage or offer any compensation. The decision was made to completely abandon the church.

The tiny community of Tivetshall had long been home to two parishes and now the stained glass windows and other valuable items were stripped from St. Mary’s and moved down the road to St. Margaret’s where they were reunited with the parishioners who had already found a new home there by the late 1800s due to the safety concerns at St. Mary’s.

This is a completely serene place and well worth a stop if you are driving through the Norfolk countryside. The gravestones may be tilting from the shifting soil, the names on many of the stones have completely weathered away, and it is only when you trip over a partially sunken grave-curbstone that you realize just how many people are buried there.

An infant's or child's gravestone in St. Mary's churchyard

War memorial at Tivetshall St. Mary, Norfolk

Rather poignantly, the churchyard is strewn with a large amount of very tiny stones, most no more than 8 inches wide and 8 inches tall, for infants or children, but almost none of them are readable now.

Yet looking around at the stones of the adults, most of them lived well into their late forties, fifties, sixties — and there was the occasional tombstone indicating an eighty-plus resident.

It was a very visible testament to the fact that they were nurtured by their community and that for the most part, these people lived long and productive lives.

I am highly sensitive to such things and I can honestly say that with the single exception of the stark white war memorial for those soldiers who never came home from World War I, there was no sense of sadness, longing, regret lingering in the air of the churchyard.

There is simply an atmosphere of peace, a lovely and historic ruin, and a very sturdy bench to use whilst you sit in contemplation.

Scooting Through The Stedelijk

Icy, icy cold and gray. With skies as flat and colourless as a dull nickel coin, we headed down the street to catch the tram and the wind set our eyes streaming as soon as we walked out the front door.

Our destination was the Uitburo (ticket office) at Leidseplein where we planned to purchase a Museumkaart, a museum card for both Amsterdam and the rest of Holland that covers more than 400 museums or sites. Two trams later we arrived and noticed that the lights were on in the area around the ice skating rink and on the front of the Uitburo. They didn’t seem out of place because, even at 10:30 in the morning, it was rather dim outside.

Uitburo (ticket office) at Leidseplein

Lights on in Leidseplein at 10:30 AM on a dim winter morning

The charming young woman inside the ticket office apologized to us and explained that she had sold the last of the Museumkaarts the previous day and another shipment was not expected until later in the afternoon. Our plans were rescued when she phoned the Stedelijk, the modern art museum and they did have some in stock. So we thanked her and backtracked via tram to the museum district.

Central stairwell at the Stedelijk Museum

Upper central stairwell at Stedelijk Museum

What we expected to see versus what we did see was altogether different than those expectations that we had as we left the apartment in the morning. The museum is currently undergoing a massive renovation and a new wing will be constructed that will transform both the amount of space needed to house the collections and the climate control for preserving what is on display. As a result, well over half of the building is a series of empty rooms and that was quite disappointing since we hadn’t known that prior to entry.

When a young woman with a clipboard approached me as we prepared to leave an hour later and asked me to rate my experience on a 1 to 10 basis, I told her quite honestly that it was a 5 at best since there was almost nothing to look at.

None of the permanent pieces such as the Bauhaus or Post-Impressionist works that I had been expecting were there. What is within is sparsely sprinkled over two floors with long walks through empty rooms in between.

We had a nice coffee and pastry in the cafe which is still open and fully functional and oddly, that ended up being one of the highlights of our visit to that particular museum.

Here are a few examples of the artwork that is still ‘in residence.’

Exhibit at the Stedelijk Museum

Modern art exhibit at the Stedelijk Museum

NOTE OF THANKS!
Thank you to the staff at the Van Gogh Museum. Someone sent them a copy of my article from two days ago, A Visit With Vincent and they sent a note on Twitter around the world that increased the number of visitors to this site dramatically over the next 2 days. The museum staff also took the time to write me a personal thank you note for the article, so I am reciprocating by letting you know about that charming courtesy.

A Wanderful Life

The Neverending Journey