City of surprises and an exhibition

When the winds of August die away, we are left with days of perfection.  The air is crisp, the skies blue, and the vistas are spectacular.  Yesterday was such a day.  We travelled to the city by train, swishing past streets full of blossoming trees and over the Harbour Bridge.  I am constantly surprised at how, after all these years,  the Harbour view still takes my breath away, no matter what the weather is doing to it.

We were heading for the Art Gallery of New South Wales to see a particular exhibition - more on that later. After lunch, Tony (AKA Mr Fudge) took me on the scenic route to Wynyard Station for our trip home.  He steered me through some little back streets, promising an unusual surprise.

Bird cages - dozens of them suspended overhead, with the sweet recorded sounds of birds drifting down.  I cursed, for the sixteenth time within an hour, that I had left my camera at home.  However, I did have my mobile phone, so I clicked away, hoping that some would come out.

I don't know whose idea it was ...

but I am so happy they came up with it.

I love the element of surprise and the fact that it's off the tourist track.  It's simply there, waiting to delight those who come across it.

Stepping back a couple of hours, this is what brought us to the city on such a brilliant day.  The Art Gallery had just opened its latest exhibition, photographs of Old Paris by French photographer Eugène Atget (1857-1927).  It is an extraordinary exhibition and we spent an hour or so slowly taking in the beautiful images.  They are not glamorous, but rather a history of Paris as it was from the late nineteenth to early twentieth centuries.  If you have a love of Paris, history or photography, it's not to be missed.

This scene of children playing in the Luxembourg Gardens immediately reminded me of one of my favourite pictures which I took in the same spot three years ago.

I was taking shots of the passing parade when this little boy suddenly stopped in front of me, staring curiously.  He is such a typical little Parisian boy and I thank him for appearing before my lens.

Yesterday turned out to be a tale of two cities - two beautiful cities which I love.

Any time in Paris

We've just been to see Midnight in Paris and I could have wept with relief.  Woody Allen is back to his best.  The opening shots of Paris filled us with such wonderful memories that if someone had tapped us on the shoulder with two free air tickets to Paris, you would not have seen us for dust.

It's not simply the elegance and charm of the city,

it's also the downright quirky sights that abound at every turn.

What a way to start the day, with a very healthy and non-fattening petit déjeuner.

We both sighed towards the end of the movie when this shop made a brief appearance, as we had visited it on our last day in Paris. 

Even if you are not a Woody Allen fan, do yourself a favour and sit back an enjoy this thoroughly delightful film.

Paris Shadows

There I was, all set to capture some great shadows when the inevitable Brisbane thunder and lightning show rolled into town, right on cue.  When all else fails, you can always rely on Paris.

Akhenaten humming Me and My Shadow in the Louvre

Reflected shadows in a boutique window. 

Oh, to have the youth and figure to get away with this little number, but you can keep the bear head.

Possibly the first man in history to be shadowed by a miniature poodle.

To see some really stunning shadows, visit Hey Harriet's blog - you won't be disappointed.

Jetlag - what's that?

Jet lag, also jetlag, medically referred to as "desynchronosis" is a physiological condition which is a consequence of alterations to circadian rhythms; it is classified as one of the circadian rhythm sleep disorders. Jet lag results from rapid long-distance transmeridian (east-west or west-east) travel, as on a jet plane.

- Wikipedia

Tell me about it. Having travelled 25 hours from Rome to Brisbane, with a four hour wait in Dubai to change aircraft and another couple for good measure in Singapore while the plane was being refueled, our six weeks of adventure came to an end at 20 minutes past midnight at Brisbane International Airport on Wednesday morning. To put on my Pollyanna hat, it was the best time to arrive home, as the customs crew plus one very sleepy sniffer dog wanted to get to bed as much as we did and we were ushered through without delay. Here I am nearly five days later and I'm still walking around in a fog.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Behind us lie such wonderful adventures ...

A wedding in Orkney

Men in kilts ... mmmmm ...

Paris ...

breakfasts

parking

A quaint German castle ...

reveals an amazing piece of family history

Rome ...

City of our dreams

Back to my opening paragraph. It's heading towards midnight and I need to break the jetlag syndrome. We have memories of the six weeks away that will stay with us forever, or at least until that senility thingie kicks in (can't remember its name). For now it's back to reality, but ah, what a trip