✉ Golden Hour

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

With soft rain outside my window, it feels strange to write about a glare of blinding sunlight. I shall keep it brief. There is a sparkly stupa in the Grand Palace grounds in Bangkok. It is covered in tiny golden tiles. An illuminated bell from far away to the explorer in search of gold. Up close though, a blinding lustrous yellow mosaic and space to reflect. For a golden thought, a golden minute, or golden hour.                           

- THE EMBELLISHED GRAND -

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✉ Umbrellas

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

I recall the lunch under the sun-faded umbrellas so clearly. I sat down in blue shade on a neon plastic chair. It was a sweltering day in Bangkok, and busy. 

What I remember distinctly is the smell in the air of this food market. The fragrance trapped beneath the umbrellas, and the feast before us. The sharpness of Oyster sauce, the strong smell of the Thai green curries, its cool antidote: coconut milk; the fresh sliced mango, the sweet and sour pineapple chicken displayed on green banana leaves; and the complex fusion before me: the perfect Pad Thai. Lime, peanut and chili infused in a gently dressed dish of shrimps, bean-sprouts and light rice noodles, stir-fried with egg, tamarind juice and fish sauce. I could not manage dessert after that, so a sweet mangosteen had to wait a little.  

This was, and remains, a beautiful lunch. And these faded umbrellas will always remind me of how lucky I am to have experienced such happy delights in the foreign far East.                     

- THE EMBELLISHED GRAND -

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✉ All the Pretty Tiles

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

Never have I been to a place with such a variety of detailed embellishments. I could not stop noting down the ideas that the designs in Bangkok's Grand Palace inspired. I felt like a little girl playing 'dress-up-princess', after way too much candy. "I wouldn't mind a swimming costume like that. Or like thát. And maybe a cake decorated just like this. A greeting card with that border. Wallpaper! A scarf with such flowers and golden wings just for fun. Little bell earrings. A golden, sparkly dress like that." Even the 'et cetera, et cetera's were lining up in my mind, like the patterned tiles I was facing. It was a good thing I was wandering alone, because the Grand Palace seemed to overwhelm me a little, and that, after a rush through the busy and cluttered city of Bangkok. It took some time to take everything in. Needless to say, I slept very well that night. 

And in the nights that followed, I had to deal with sweet dreams of painted iced cupcakes and little princess tea parties. The Grand Palace, like I have said before, a little overwhelming. But ever so inspiring.                       

- THE EMBELLISHED GRAND -

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The Embellished Grand

In a dizzy dreamlike rush, I passed the other boats, shrines and cluttered buildings of Bangkok; onward to the detailed and embellished Grand. The Grand Palace made such an impression on me the previous time I saw it, that it was inevitable to take to the river once more, and this time with a camera. I clicked away in mindless monotony over the ripples of the hazel water. A weary angst that I might not capture all in the short stay I was granted. 

My thoughts drifted back to a few hours before: a fine breakfast I got to have with three of my close friends earlier that morning. I remembered that we laughed. But somehow my brain could not classify the breakfast as an event that was connected to the boat I was bopping in. No, my brain argued, that must have been another day. My heart tricked, and desperate for proof, I wished I had rather taken a photograph of the friendly faces over breakfast. My tainted memory: reduced to a hovering smile like that of the Cheshire cat. Had I not been such an insomniac during that time, had I not dropped my guard, had I not enjoyed their company so. Yes, reason hit me right then, as the white horses crashed against the bow. You see, most of my dearest memories are but intangible and abstract, like threads of light carried in my heart. Had they been pictures, they would have all been overexposed anyway. Most details may be forgotten, but the feelings that these faint memories evoke, are strong, evident and enduring. You don't always need a photograph of everything.   

I took another snapshot just before the boat stopped. What an uninspiring image, I thought. 

I sobered up over an incredible shrimp pad thai and an unidentified fruit juice in a street market. The shade beneath the umbrellas: very welcome.

The expected déjà vu returned again, and I found myself strolling alone in a dirty street in Bangkok. Raising my gaze over the palace's walls presented quite the opposite of the streets: pristine and intricate white washed towers. 

The flawless prayer flowers sold at the entrance. Purity on a stem. 

Clearly a wonder wall. 

Heavy lifting gold should rather be called heavy, heavy, very heavy lifting.

Like a Bollywood Film without the choreography. Embellished to the very tip of the tower. 

Just a note: do not be deceived by these images. I only selected the ones with no tourists in. Quite the challenge. But it is my prerogative to choose the memories that I would like to keep. But then, movement was welcomed after all. 

Like a wave of Thai buildings and adornments. 

Wall figures dance. And I try to decipher the story without a guide.

The Far East identified beneath a dreamy sky. 

The Grand Palace is an exceptional place. Compelled to record the fascinating structures, shimmering in the perfect sunlight, I had to succumb to take photographs. (For my tangible visual diary.) Some features are just too intricate to remember just like that. And I didn't want to be tricked again. Especially with all the little mirrors and golden embellishments around, where illusions are bound to appear. 

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✉ Spring Awakens

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

Spring woke up beautifully in the heart of the wine-lands. Before leaving Stellenbosch that morning, we first relaxed beneath the trees in a lovely park. There were flowers everywhere. Dear serenity in the generous sunlight, and peace in the Renoir-azure spots of shade around us. Unencumbered by time, only conscious of the prospect of an afternoon of wine tasting. The morning lay there, full of promise. Luxury is a well defined and complimentary state in this place.                 

- WEEK IN THE WINELANDS -

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✉ Noteworthy Wines

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

Taking notes: a most loved pastime. Black cursive strokes that sink into paper. The consistency of handwritten lines, page after page, brings me indescribable joy. It came as no surprise, that during our week long Wine Tour, it became quite enduring to keep a Wine Journal. Personal star ratings were given according to the notes from the first impressions to the finish, to the second tastings that were needed for final affirmation. Poetic references were made on appearance, imaginative and magniloquent observations on the aromas and other sensory qualities. And sometimes oh so serious annotations were reserved for the character analysis of every wine. It was inevitable in these recordings however to splash a drop of the wine next to the name and vintage. 

Apart from this tested list of tiny stars that will in future determine my wine selection, the Wine Diary of this trip proves quite the sentimental treasure. And much like the sensational diary of Miss Gwendolyn Fairfax, there is the shameless pleasure of looking back on these spotty notes, intoxicated again with memories of good wine in the presence of (real) good company. 
             

- WEEK IN THE WINELANDS -

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*The reference to the 'sensational' diary of Miss Gwendolyn Fairfax, is from Oscar Wilde's play, "The Importance of being Earnest" . Miss Fairfax: "I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read on a train".  

✉ Feeling Small

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

The prospect of discovering remote wines in far off places is the perfect delusion of being a first time explorer in Rawsonville's winelands. The stern focus on directions, can make you miss the scenery along the way. And the slow Radiohead song might perhaps suggest that you are the star of an important story. 

It was therefor no surprise that I somehow didn't realize how big the mountains were growing as we rounded the bend into the valley. Settling down at a table for a late lunch in the sunshine, vineyards stretching out to the foot of the encompassing mountain, I looked up for the first time, feeling oh so small. But oh so thankful. I get to be the star in someone's story. Not small at all. And how surreal the setting.        

- WEEK IN THE WINELANDS -

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✉ Wining, Dining.

TODAY'S TRAVEL PHOTO OF YESTERYEAR: 

So there we sat. Under a perfect sky: stars twinkling through the bare branches of Winter's trees, a table for two and a wine to match every delicacy. Dinner in Franschhoek has an ease to it, but how refined the pleasure.         

- WEEK IN THE WINELANDS -

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