This is my 400th blog entry. It’s hard to believe. I started posting some time in 2006, so a lot of ramblings, remembrances and randomness have poured forth onto these pages over the intervening years.
Anyway, in keeping with the generally scrambled content of this blog, here’s an Aloe Vera plant flowering. It took me some time to photograph this – one frame every 30 minutes, all day and all night for 2 weeks. I’m told it’s unusual to see an Aloe in flower, so someone in this house must be doing something right. (I’ll hasten to add, it’s not me).
Staying with the floral theme, yesterday was what we Irish call “a soft day”, so I took the opportunity to photograph a few flowers and plants in the act of budding. The macro function on my iPhone is quite passable, I think, but it sometimes takes a bit of work to get the focusing right.
Another week travelling, this time in the opposite direction. Over the last three weeks, I’ve been in three equally sized corners of the world. I still miss Shanghai.
I’m in Silicon Valley: an endless suburbia straddling San Francisco Bay, and home to some of the brightest technical minds on the planet. Photographic opportunities are somewhat limited, but there are some wonderful gems, not far from the hustle and bustle.
I saw a few curious things on my flight over from London. While travelling past Iceland, I noticed a dark line of shadow imprinted on the clouds far below. It took me a few seconds to realise that it was caused by our own plane’s vapour trail – a shadow cast from far above. What was even more interesting was that the head of the shadow – where the plane should be – was surrounded by a small rainbow. It’s called a “glory” – an optical phenomenon caused by the reflected rays’ passage through tiny water droplets.
Greenland was uncharacteristically bereft of cloud, so I could see clearly the high snowy mountains of the coastline. Deep in the valleys, I could see massive glaciers grind their way to the sea. As the plane headed inland, these glaciers began to engulf the mountain tops, until the mountains themselves disappeared under the enormous ice-cap.
We arrived into San Francisco early, and with time to kill, we headed towards the Pacific Coast Highway, one of my favourite spots in Northern California. Thick sea fog was assaulting the coast, lending a certain dullness to the scenery. We wound our way South from Pacifica to Santa Cruz, past driftwood strewn beaches and high cliffs. It’s a relaxing part of the world.
Don’t worry – there is no “Day 3” post. Yesterday was not eventful for me. Just work, a nondescript meal at a restaurant near the hotel and then bed.
I woke early and made my way across the Huangpu river to The Bund, the old financial area of Shanghai. Barges ploughed their way past the skyscrapers of Pudong as kites floated silently in the air. The morning was misty and dull, but not too cold.
I then walked up to Nanjing Road, one of Shanghai’s biggest shopping areas. From what I hear it’s usually crowded with people, but this morning only a few brave souls walked the street. Having watched some elderly people practice T’ai Chi, I flagged a taxi back to the hotel.
Our meal this evening was hot-pot. Each diner is given a pot of water and vegetables, then presented with small portions of meat, mushrooms, noodles, prawns and fish cakes to cook and eat. It was delicious and a lot of fun. We then walked to a local market with small alleyways and lots of interesting, good quality items on sale. Shanghai is an expensive city, although I suspect some local knowledge would come in handy in this city.
Some other things I took in: taxi passenger doors only open on the right-hand side, so it’s always a case of first-in, last out when getting in the back. The driving isn’t great – we’ve had more than one close shave over the last few days. None of the drivers know English, so a card with the destination address in Chinese is an ideal accessory when travelling.
I’m learning a small amount of Mandarin Chinese. Yes and No sound a bit rude to Anglophones, so I should have no problem remembering them. Other than that, it’s a very difficult language to learn. The way you say something is at least as important as what you say.
And, no, I’m not improving with my chopstick prowess. It gets worse when anyone is looking at me, and worse still if they start commenting about how bad I am.
It snowed today, a rare event for a city that shares the same latitude as Jerusalem and Austin.
I took a short time-lapse video this morning with the sun poking through the clouds; the light playing games with the February dullness.
This evening, we ate in the Langyifang Restaurant. It’s situated in a gigantic modern mall close to the hotels. We sampled a large mix of local foods, mostly similar to what might be found back home.
My impression of the city so far is much less of a culture shock than I would have expected. Shanghai is brash, modern and unquestionably upmarket. Most items on display cost the same as what might be paid in Europe. Many of the big brands are here, including Haagen Dazs, KFC and TGI Fridays. Clearly, if we want an authentic Chinese experience, we are in the wrong place.
One of my colleagues, an American, has mastered Mandarin Chinese, both oral and written. My Chinese colleagues tell me it is word perfect without much of a trace of an accent. Knowing how to read the Chinese characters is especially impressive, as this is a much bigger challenge for Chinese children compared to western kids. Mastery involves familiarity with several thousand symbols, many of which vary in meaning depending on the context in which they are written. On top of being masters in Chinese, many of my colleges speak English perfectly. Truly, I feel humbled here.
This morning I arrived in Shanghai – by some reckonings the world’s largest city. My travels began early the previous morning, with dangerous gusts around Cork Airport making hard work of our take-off. After a short stop-over in Heathrow, a Boeing 777 took us across the Russian Steppes and Mongolia, touching down in Shanghai at 9.30 am Sunday morning. It’s my first time in China and only one of my first times in Asia proper.
Flying in, the area under the flight path reminded me of the Netherlands, with its cloudy weather, reclaimed land, wind turbines and man-made canals. It’s all brand new, with many roads, bridges and buildings under construction. The airport is shiny and enormous – the terminal building itself seems to stretch to infinity in both directions. A motorway brings you straight into the city centre and driving in you get an appreciation of the huge number of people living in Shanghai. Large apartment blocks cover the landscape as far as the eye can see. It’s an impressive sight.
Click photos to enlarge
A number of huge skyscrapers dominate the cityscape, the largest of which, the Shanghai Tower, is being built at the moment. It will top out at 630 metres, making it the second tallest skyscraper in the world. Construction is due to complete in 2015.
After a brief rest in the hotel, we took a taxi to Yuyuan Bazaar and Gardens. The garden itself is delightful – full of nooks and crannies, steps going nowhere and tiny footbridges. The pools are full of colourful koi carp. A pity it’s too early to see the trees in blossom.
The bazaar was a bombardment of sounds, smells and sights. Everywhere there were people – lots of families and children. Despite the fact that we didn’t have a clue where we were or what we were doing, somehow we managed to visit the Temple of the City Gods, do some tea-tasting and see the lanterns light up as the Chinese New Year ceremonies come to a close. We even got our photos taken by some teenagers, clearly impressed to have come across quaint looking foreigners.
Yesterday, we headed to the Galley Head area in West Cork, halfway between Clonakilty and Skibbereen. The day was uncharacteristically perfect. The low winter sun offering this battered coastline some light relief.
The winter storms had not yet abated and the waves around the Long Strand (Castlefreke) were enormous, crashing loudly onto the beach. I caught some nice shots during our walk.
We then headed to the Drombeg Stone Circle, close to Glandore. These Bronze Age Menhirs with their portal stones and altar is a reminder of mysterious times long gone. Close by is a wonderfully preserved “Fualacht Fia” – an ancient kitchen. Red-hot stones were added to the water, allowing the water to boil, thus cooking whatever food had been caught during the day.
Just as London has Big Ben, and Paris the Eiffel Tower, Cork has Shandon Church. This modest chapel, by no means the largest or most ornate church in Cork, is by far the most emblematic.
I found myself in Cork very early one morning last September. Having a few hours to waste before work, I headed towards St Anne’s Church in an attempt to understand its enigmatic hold over the city.
St Anne’s dates from 1722, its famous bells installed in 1750, it’s clock mechanism a hundred years later. The church is built of red sandstone and white limestone, which have come to represent the colours of Cork City and county. The clock faces, notoriously inaccurate, have given the church its nickname ‘The Four Faced Liar’*. The large gold-plated salmon, ‘de goldie fish’, on the top is a nod to Cork’s booming salmon industry of the time. Situated a short distance north of the River Lee and a stone’s throw from Cork’s North Cathedral, the narrow streets and alleys around it are a throwback to earlier times. The Butter Museum and the Firkin Crane theatre, Cork’s home of dance, rests in its shadow.
Because of its centrality, its central position and its idiosyncratic design, Shandon is the true heart of Cork City. While the city itself has gone through a transformation in the last few years, with glass and polished marble growing up where dowdy brick and concrete buildings once stood, this symbol of Cork’s heritage remains unchallenged.
* This is the name of a famous Irish pub in New York City, which in turn became the name of a 2010 award winning independent movie.
Our departure point last weekend was Ventry, near the town of Dingle. From there we made our way to An Blascaod Mór, the Great Blasket Island, homeland of Peig Sayers. A small community lived on this island until 1953, when they were re-located to the mainland. Close by the beach is a large colony of common seals, curiously observing us as we collected some passengers for the rest of the trip.
Our next stop was Inis na Bró, with its cathedral-like rock formation to the north of the Island. In the distance was An Tiaracht, rising out of the waters like a great pyramid.
Onwards to Inishvickillane, second home to the family of Charlie Haughey, the controversial politician who held sway over the country in the 1980’s. The only permanent inhabitants of the island are a large family of Red Deer, seen here on the eastern cliffs, not far from the Haughey residence.
We headed then towards open water, where a different world awaited us. I spotted a harbour porpoise, then an ocean sunfish basking on the surface until the boat came too close. Then suddenly, a cry from the front: “dolphins approaching”. A small pod of common dolphins surrounded the boat, leaping out of the water and rushing close to the bow at breakneck speed. It was over way too fast. Before I had a chance to take any photos, they had lost interest and we were heading back to the mainland, Manx shearwaters, gannets and puffins escorting us back to land.
Passive Impressions 
