The Photography of Dr. Jeff Harper

Zion National Park is situated in southern Utah.

 

Remarkably photogenic landscapes around Zion . . . this may be one of the best photos I have ever taken . . .

 

The geology and topography of Zion National Park is truly fantastic.

 

We stopped often along the winding road to marvel at the rock formations.

 

Massive stone mountains.

 

A lone pine with a geological marvel as a backdrop.

 

I cannot imagine what geological forces created this formation.  AMAZING!

 

Around every curve in the road was another magnificent geological scene. WOW!

 

This road!

 

I love this scenery: pine trees nestled within desert rock formations.

 

Inexplicable shape and pattern.

 

Ancient trees among the desert mountain scenery: perfect.

 

Dry desert stone, a lone lizard . . .

 

A stack of giant stone pucks . . .

 

Yes, actual cactus in the desert . . . who knew?

 

A mix of many different geological formations . . . all overlapping.

 

Along the road that goes up and out of the park.

 

Just another grand and gorgeous landscape.

 

Zion must be a rock climber's dream! 

 

A desert stream falling through a rocky canyon.  So beautiful.

 

Three rocky peaks along the road . . .

 

Morning wild flowers.

 

The most popular part of the park are the deep, narrow orange canyons.  To access this part of the canyon you have to board a shuttle bus.  It's a good idea . . . it keeps the pollution down, and there would have to be huge parking lots in the narrow canyon.

 

The route to the park visitors center on the bus goes into an ever-deepening canyon.

 

Into the deep canyon . . .

 

More photogenic scenes than I had time to capture . . .

 

Sheer stone cliffs towering above the stream and greenery below.

 

Beautiful light on these carved cliffs . . .

 

Giant blocks of stone all around.

 

The trees contrasted against the backdrop of black and orange cliff faces was a magical sight.

 

Blackened cliff, greenery.

 

The Virgin River flows at the bottom of Zion Park canyon.

 

Many tourists visit Zion National Park every year.  The path up into the famous narrow gorges crosses this bridge.

 

It was a hot day in June, so some of the tourists were cooling off in the Virgin River.

 

Looking up the Virgin River from the bridge.  The path follows the river on the left bank up into the steep valley.

 

The path up into the park is well-worn by millions of tourists every year.

 

The path follows the Virgin River, offering wonderful views.

 

Up we went toward the "waterfall".

 

Hot tourists stopping to cool off to the steep uphill path.

 

Massive cliffs overhead at the "waterfall" - if you look closely you can see a trickle of water falling over the cliff.

 

The path under the "waterfall."

 

The "Waterfall."  The display at the visitors center said it was a massive waterfall in late spring and when sudden summer flash floods made the streams rage.  OK.

 

These squirrels and a few lizards were the only wildlife we saw.

 

And onward we hiked into the deep cliff-sided Virgin River valley.

 

The sight of these rapidly forming clouds convinced us not to go any further.  We headed back down the trail to the visitors center.

 

The walk back down was just as beautiful.

 

Such a pleasant walk in such grand Nature.

 

We grabbed a bite to eat at the visitors center and sat on the big lawn under a tall tree.

 

We purchased a bag full of Zion park themed tourist curious at the visitors center and headed for the tourist shuttle bus.

 

The shuttle system works very well in the park.

 

The views from the shuttle bus were fantastic too.

 

Back to the camper and a drive out of the park . . . with a few stops for more scenic grandeur.

 

Back at our hotel.  There was a small tourist town where we found a "cowboy steak house" - expensive, but delicious.

Bryce Canyon National Park is one of the great natural wonders of the world.   The area around Bryce Canyon was originally designated as a national monument by President Warren G. Harding in 1923 and was redesignated as a national park by the U.S. Congress in 1928.

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Out in the beautiful south Utah desert landscape.  Red rocks, wild geology, and hoodoos. . . . .

 

It was a very interesting drive up in altitude to Bryce Canyon National Park.

 

Roadside hoodoos.

 

Such scenic views on the road up to the park!

 

An old snag, perhaps a lightning strike, along the edge of the canyon.

 

Weathered red rock spires . . .

 

Strangely carved cliffs with inviting caves . . . 

 

The closer we got to the canyon, the more interesting things we saw.

 

Amazing geology.

 

The trail along the rim of Bryce Canyon offered many viewing points . . .

 

 . . . and grand views!

 

Amazing rock formations!

 

Thousands of wondrous stone spires into the distance.

 

Just incredible! NATURE!

 

If you look closely, you can see that there are many walking trails through the spires . .  sadly, we did not have time to walk any of them.  Next time.

 

Another burnt lightning snag along the rim trail.

 

A phenomenal sight!

 

Standing out on a promontory above the canyon.

 

Different color rock formations . . . 

 

An angry storm approached very fast.  At this altitude there are always summer thunderstorms.

 

A light ran began as we hurried back to the camper.

 

We made it back to the camper as the skies opened.

 

The Storm.

 

The Outer Hebrides are filled with archeological wonders!

Magnificent views around every corner of the winding single track roads!

 

Otherworldly scenes . . .

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Our journey from the mainland of Scotland began on a fine late June day in Oban harbour.

 

Our 10-day road and ferry trip began at our [then] home in Aberdeen, on the east coast. We spent six of those wonderful days out on the one-lane roads and ferry crossings of the Outer Hebrides.

 

The ferry out of Oban passes through a straight with views of the Isle of Mull on one side.

 

It was a gorgeous 4 hour and 45 minute ferry trip . . . it is important to book your ferry well in advance in the summer months, including the small inter-island ferries out in the Outer Hebrides.

 

Yes, I would live here . . . .

 

With so many islands off the west coast of Scotland, there are many small ferry routes.

 

History is everywhere along our route.  Castle ruins seem to dot the landscape.

 

Such a relaxing way to travel.

 

Time passed quickly and we found ourselves nearing Castlebay, the southernmost port on the Outer Hebrides, the Isle of Barra.

 

This castle sits in the bay of Castlebay . . . perhaps having something to do with the naming of the town . . . perhaps.

 

The castle in the bay of Castlebay is Kisimul Castle, dating from the late 16th century.  It is now leased to Historic Scotland Trust by the Clan MacNeil for 1 pound a year. It is a castle with an interesting history (see link).

 

We were called to the car deck just before docking in Castlebay . . . what a surprise to see several antique and collector cars there (they must have loaded after we did).   Perhaps there was a collector car rally . . . or they were returning from one.

 

We drove off the ferry and turned, stopped to take a look at where we had come from.

 

Castlebay has an 'End of the World' feeling of remoteness about it like no other place I have ever been.

 

We found our old hotel (it wasn't too difficult!) and checked in.

 

The view of Castlebay from our hotel room.  Very nice.

 

The sun stays up very late in June this far north.  I took a walk from our Craigard Hotel at 10:30pm.

 

From the hill behind our hotel I saw our ferry, reloaded, making its return voyage to Oban.

 

I sat in the evening gloom and watched the ferry pass out of sight.

 

An old church, Our Lady of the Sea, behind our hotel.

 

And off we drove up the west coast of the Isle of Barra.  Magnificent bay views, white sand and aqua waters.

 

Such a pleasant place.

 

My wife is an avid golfer, so of course we stopped in at the amazing Barra Golf Course.

 

Small yellow wild flowers, the sea, cows, and a fenced off putting green (to keep the cow paddies from becoming a 'green hazard'!!!). Lovely.

 

Cute . . .

 

Lobster/Crab pots along a rocky cove.  The scenery constantly changes.

 

Gorgeous scenes of island life, so connected to the sea.

 

We met these fine fellows along the road.  Highland cows.

 

The ever-present wet sheep.  We joked that all of the wool from the Outer Hebrides is already 'pre-washed.'

 

A vast stretch of the white sandy beach of a bay at low tide.  Barra Airport in the background.

 

The sight of the small airport drew our attention and we drove along the bay to take a better look.

 

Barra Airport is the only airport in the world with regularly scheduled flights that use a sand beach for a landing strip!

 

We went in the Barra Airport Terminal . . . for a cup of coffee and a snack.  While we were there many people started to show up.  There was a plane expected any minute.  We stayed to see the big event!

 

Someone called out, "There it is" . . . and we all turned to look at the airplane approaching from a distance.

 

Landing on the wet beach . . . 

 

The passengers disembarked onto a sandy runway . . . as they have been doing since 1936.  The only destination from this airport is Glasgow.

 

And onward we drove north on these marvelous one lane roads.

 

With sheep and Highland cows grazing everywhere, we encountered many of these 'cattle guards.'

 

At the northern tip of Barra Island we reached the Ardmhor to Eriskay ferry. There are 5 round trips a day, each carrying only 18 vehicles.  With only 90 possible places on this ferry to drive north up through the length of the Outer Hebrides, it is important to book in advance.  We had. 

 

We arrived at the ferry terminal a little early . . . which allowed me some time to explore the area.

 

Such a remote and fascinating place.

 

The sea always framed by outcrops of stone islands . . .

 

The passage between Barra Island and Eriskay Island was eerily mystical . . .

 

My memory of the passage was of the total silence . . . hardly a sound beyond the quiet thumping of the ferry diesel at work.  Calm.  Remote.

 

There was a bit of commotion among my fellow passengers.  Someone remarked, "Look. Seals."  And there they were.

 

A strange, captivating, natural beauty.

 

Arriving on the Isle of Eriskay.

 

Rocky, barren hillside . . . and the one-lane road that will take us further up the Outer Hebrides chain of islands.

 

We quickly crossed Eriskay Island and drove up and across a causeway to South Uist Island.

 

I absolutely loved driving on these narrow, winding, one-lane roads through this unique topography.

 

The remains of an old stone crofters house . . . and a stone tower on the hilltop.

 

Midsummer flowers, grey skies, dilapidated stone ruins . . . . The Isle of Lewis.

 

In and around mountain passes, sudden grand views out across the bays to the outlying islands.  Magnificent scenery.  Like no other place I have ever been.

 

Grand views like no place else.

 

Patches of light on the sea . . .

 

I am not usually partial to added photo 'artsy' technique, but this scene seemed to demand a sepia tone.  Amazing.

 

Driving up the small winding road along side a rushing stream . . . .

 

And around the bend at the hilltop . . . another magnificent view of a picturesque inlet . . . in the rain.

 

Wet sheep . . . everywhere . . .

 

Wild Hebridean stream running down out of the rugged hills.

 

Portrait of two wet sheep.  Why not?

 

We spent one night at the charming and remote Lochmaddy Hotel on North Uist Island.

 

Out along the rocky bay.

 

Rope mooring and stones.

 

Incredibly fascinating seaweed in a North Uist bay.

 

Wild flowers growing in the stony shore.

 

Leftover signs of fishermen long gone.

 

Off we went in the morning mist on the tiny roads . . .

 

A most unusual landscape.  I have never seen anything like it.  Fantastically beautiful. I always have a compunction to think I would love to live in one of those houses . . . but stop myself by thinking there would be nothing for me to do there.

 

We learned there was a good restaurant out in these soggywet landscapes.

 

More Hebridean wildlife!

 

And here and there, around a bend, a sudden, almost tropical, turquoise sea and white sandy beach.  Marvelous.

 

And around another bend a vale with deep cut peat harvesting in progress.

 

A tall smokestack . . . a monument to some previous industrial endeavor . . . all the way out here.

 

Driving the single track road in and out of the strange hills . . . always a new view . . . sometimes of a narrow bay dotted with small houses, a pier, and a fishing boat.

 

These views! The gloom!

 

We rounded a bend in the road and arrived at a tiny fishing village, Scalpay.

 

"The island used to have more than 10 shops over 30 years ago but due to lack of people and work, the last shop closed in 2007. There also used to be a salmon factory, which was a major local employer from 2001 until its closure in 2005. In the spring of 2009, local newspapers reported that the factory was to reopen as a net washing facility to support the local fish farming industry. In 2012, the Scalpay community bought and opened a community shop/café, Buth Scalpaigh."  We had a delicious lunch here with friendly service . . , soup, rolls, and fried fish.

 

Some fishing activity survives  these remote places along the craggy inlets of the Outer Hebrides.

 

People have to eat and people have to make a living.

 

Picturesque little fishing boats.

 

Crab or lobster pots . . . 

 

We drove North up into the Isles of Lewis and Harris.

 

An old tower keep on a crofters place.

 

An old whitewash, thatched-roof cottage on the dandy bay.  Charming.

 

A lovely old crofter's stone barn.

 

The views!  Literally around every bend in the road . . . so many stunning landscapes!

 

Mountains, light, sea, sky.

 

We diverted west, following a sign to Gearrannan Black House Village.

 

Gearrannan Black House Village

The Black House Village was a well-preserved museum of old thatched stone houses.

 

The houses here are all occupied . . . one is even a bed and breakfast . . . if we had only known!!!

 

Beautifully detailed construction craft.

 

An unbelievably picturesque place.

 

The village served as fishermen's cottages on a small bay.

 

We strolled around this wonderful place for hours. 

 

I have to confess: I took over 100 photos here . . . I couldn't help myself, I was overcome by the charming beauty.

 

An historical marker on one of the black houses.  Fascinating.

 

Out along the seaside west coast road of the Isle of Harris. A crofters barn, freshly thatched . . . and still in use.

 

The houses here are very simple and austere . . . almost no decoration at all.

 

There are many abandoned houses in the west of these islands.  There has been a steady drop in population as younger people move to towns and cities on the mainland of Scotland for jobs.  However, some of the old houses are being restored by pensioners from as far away as London.

 

And on and on we went . . . north to see an amazing landmark  . . .

 

Out on a remote stretch of the north of the Isle of Lewis, more abandoned crofters cottages.

 

The views became more fantastical, otherworldly.

 

At last we had arrived at our destination: The Callanish Standing Stones!

 

I have been to Stonehenge, but these were far more magnificent! 

 

"The first traces of human activity are indicated by a broad ditch (no longer visible above ground) which appears to have belonged to some structure or enclosure. This may have been ritual, but could instead have been domestic. In the centuries around 3000 BC, however, the site was turned over to agriculture, which obliterated most of the earlier traces. After this, the site was allowed to grass over for a time." -  Callanish Standing Stones

 

The stones sit on a hill with awesome views.

 

Under a stunning, ever-changing sky . . . the sun popping through now and again.

 

Magic.

 

A view from the standing stones.  Imagine living in a farm like this . . . in this place.

 

We stayed a lovely evening at the Harris Hotel, Isle of Lewis and Harris.

 

Ah! Harris tweed that way!

 

Only tweed that has been woven on the Isle of Harris can be called Harris tweed.  It is famous all over the world.

 

When I lived in London many years ago, I had a very nice Harris tweed sport coat.  I tried several of these on . . . but they felt too old fashioned . . . and professorial.

 

The winter nights on the Outer Hebrides are long, dark, cold, and windy.  Local residents have spent the dark months weaving the distinctive tweed the island is famous for on these looms.

 

We eagerly explored the few small villages out on the islands.  A nice cup of coffee and scones was very welcome.

 

We always stop whenever we see a "craft sale" sign.  You never know what amazing things you might find . . . and we have found and purchased many fantastic things on our world travels in these kinds of places . . . but not at this place.  We always try to buy something, but could not find a thing we wanted here.  Sorry ladies.

 

After five days on the small roads, we eventually made it to the very tip top of the chain of islands that make up the Outer Hebrides.  And we were not disappointed!

 

Fantastic cliff top views at the northernmost tip of the Hebrides.

 

A lighthouse sits at the tip of the Isle of Lewis and Harris.  This man rode his bicycle all the way from his home in London, England.  He was going to turn around here and ride back down the east coast to get home.

 

We drove back along the north coast as much as possible toward Stornaway and our ferry back to the mainland of Scotland.

 

In Stornoway with our waiting ferry . . . but not until morning of the next day.

 

Lews Castle on Stornoway yacht harbour.

 

We explored the small town of Stornoway. I loved this old weathered rusty loom sitting outside a tweed museum.

 

The next morning we joined the line-up at the ferry terminal for our passage home.  Again, in the rain, there were many old classic cars waiting, including this Delage.

 

Heading home on the big ferry.

 

I spent most of my time on the return ferry trip sitting out n the wind on the aft deck.  Glorious.

 

Arriving in Ullapool Harbour after a 3 hour cruise.

 

Harbour Street Ullapool.

 

We stopped halfway home between Ullapool and Aberdeen at a rural hotel that turned out to be on a tour bus company hotel with a HUGE dining room full of French and Hungarian bus tourists.  It was loud and fun!

 

We walked around the small village near the tourist hotel and discovered the Highland Museum of Childhood . . . an interesting name.  It was closed . . . like my childhood.

 

All the houses in the village were named. Ulva . . . named after an island in the Inner Hebrides of Scotland, off the west coast of the Isle of Mull.

 

The next morning we were off down the Scottish country roads toward our home in Aberdeen.

Khao Yai (literally, "large mountain" in the Thai language) is a region of Thailand about a three hour drive northeast of Bangkok.  It is thought of as an area with a national park, mountains,  and nature, although the mountains are really just tall hills. There is a lot to see in this part of rural Thailand . . . and one very special temple: Wat PA Phrom Prathan (last half of this entry).

While my wife played golf with her golfing gang, I escaped to the small back roads.  There are always Buddhist temples (wats) every 4-5 kilometers along almost every road in Thailand.

 

I stopped in at many of these roadside wats and walked around and took a few photos.  I have lived in Thailand for a very long time and have been in literally many hundreds of these Thai wats.

 

Rural Thai wats can be very similar, but there are always surprises and idiosyncrasies.  This wat was in the process of building a new temple building.

 

Pre cast decor waiting too be added to the exterior of the new wat structure.

 

This Buddha image was very unusual for Thailand! It seems more Japanese . . .

 

You have to remember that what is found inside a Buddhist temple was put there by the donors, not necessarily by monks who live there.  This is a grotto dedicated to a Hindu guru.  It is not uncommon to see Hindu gods and iconography in Thai wats.

 

Having been a sponsor of the construction of a wat myself, I am always excited to see a new wat being built . . . I especially enjoy the interiors . . . . a wonderfully naive Buddha statue awaiting a gold leaf covering, I assume.

 

The wat did not have a proper temple building.  This is the altar the new building will replace . . . just a covered portico.

 

This wat had a line of gilded revered monk statues.  Very powerful:  These Guys Made It All The Way And You Can Too!

 

There are non-Buddhist, but old spiritual practices to be found in Thai Buddhist temples.  These are for use in a numerological system for fortune telling.  Beautifully  weathered.

 

"Welcome to make merit for your Zodiacal Birthday" . . . . and a little something for the days of the week too!

The hillside wat had a beautiful staircase up to the new wat location.

 

The same staircase looking down.

 

The monks live in a variety of accommodation: sometimes they have their own 'hut' or cabin, like this one. Sometimes these can be very nice, and sometimes very austere dormitories.

 

This monk keeps an interesting and cluttered front yard!

 

I found this wonderful altar in a sala out in a wooded area of the wat.

 

There always some amazing things to see on the grounds of Thai Buddhist wats!

 

At another wat along a country lane . . . a bell and drum tower and very large outdoor Buddha.

 

Such a serious-looking Buddha . . .

 

I loved this statue of the Buddha as a wondering monk . . . which he was.

 

Sometimes my small rural lanes would come to a dead-end . . . as it did here in a farmers field.

 

Many small work sheds dot the agricultural landscape in this part of Thailand.

 

It was a beautiful day to be out rambling in the Thai countryside.

 

I stumbled upon this big greenhouse operation raising roses.  Big agribusiness out in the deep forest.

 

A bamboo pump house.

 

More rural agribusiness . . . lettuce.

 

Being only 3 hours to a city of 13 million people, this kind of big agribusiness was to be expected.

 

This old teakwood shack was occupied . . . rural splendor?

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WAT PA PHROM PRATHAN

This small sign caught my eye . . . It must be a wat . . .

 

While driving into the wat grounds I did not notice anything unusual at first.

 

For such a deeply rural wat in a forested area, the salas and monuments seemed especially wonderful.

 

Such a wonderful Buddha sala . . .

 

I found a place to park and as I stepped out of the car this is what I saw!  Remarkable!

 

There was a powerful spiritual presence in this place.

 

I sat here for quite awhile . . . and lost myself . . .

 

After sitting . . . I went for a walk to appreciate the spiritual environment I had fortunately found.

 

When I spotted this inviting road, I had to find out what was up there . . .

 

What I found at first were several very sweet monks' houses set in the trees.

 

A simple, but attractive, monks quarters.

 

This remarkable Buddha was outside one of the modest monk's quarters.

 

My long walk up the hill was rewarded with this view of a new wat building nearing completion.  A brand new Thai Buddhist Temple, Wat PA Phrom Prathan.

 

The new wat sat high on a hill over the valley.  I walked around the site several times marveling at its fresh, pristine beauty.

 

I noticed that the inner spaces of the wat were not swept or tiled . . . I knew this meant that they had not officially moved in . . . they were still working on it.  The door was ajar, so I peaked in . . . 

 

And this is what I saw when I opened the door . . . an artist on scaffolding painting an amazing mural on the far wall.  WOW!

 

The artist at work.

 

The artist came down off the scaffolding to offer me some water.  I declined as I had my own.  We chatted for a while.  He said he had been working on that wall for three years already and that there were two or three more years left to finish the rest of the interior.

 

This altar faced the wall he was currently painting.  He said that this wall only took six months to paint.

 

The artist's work and workmanship were masterful.

 

The huge mural depicted Buddhist and Thai iconography, as well as scenes from the life of the Buddha Gotama.

 

After we spoke he climbed back up to his platform and resumed painting. I sat watching him paint for quite awhile.

 

Standing outside the new wat enjoying the hilltop view out over the agricultural landscape of Khao Yai.

 

I walked back down the wooded land past the many monks cabins.

 

On the way back down I stopped at the tail of the many-headed dragon-snake that had welcomed me when I started up the hill.

 

Back where I started, at the tree sheltered Buddha altar.

 

Extraordinary 'bodi' trees at this wat.

 

These trees!!!

 

I strolled around the rest of the temple grounds and came upon these monks' cells.  I assume this was a wat that took in novice/new monks and trained them here.  Very austere  . . .

 

Someone had built a very nice sala with statues of three ancient Thai Kings.  Sweet.

 

What I assumed to be the head Abbot's house getting the finishing touches on a new roof.

 

The current main hall where the monks daily meet to meditate and chant. The door was open and I went in.  I had been looking for the donation box and I found it here.  I left a substantial donation toward the construction and maintenance of this wonderful place.

 

I left this wat after many hours exploring its beauty and spirituality.

 

My wife and I visited Poland (Kraków and Gdańsk) in the summer of 2014.  This entry is of the three days we spent in Gdańsk, while there is another entry for Kraków HERE.

Gdańsk is one of the most beautiful cities I have ever visited . . . and as good luck would have it, we visited during a street festival!

 

The statue to Neptune.

 

One of many small squares in the city center.  The architectural style was surprisingly . . . . Dutch.

 

Gdańsk is on the Motlawa River estuary.

 

An old city filled with wonderful architecture.

 

The architecture of Gdańsk tells a story:  "Parts of the historic old city of Gdańsk, which had suffered large-scale destruction during the war, were rebuilt during the 1950s and 1960s. The reconstruction was not tied to the city's pre-war appearance, but instead was politically motivated as a means of culturally cleansing and destroying all traces of German influence from the city. Any traces of German tradition were ignored by the communists, suppressed, or regarded as Prussian barbarism only worthy of demolition, while communist and Flemish/Dutch, Italian and French influences were used to replace the historically accurate Germanic architecture which the city was built upon since the 14th century. [Citation]

 

The Long Street with the old (circa 1327) City Hall towering over it.

 

Although I would have preferred to stay at an old 'boutique hotel,' we instead stayed at a modern 25 story hotel.  The plus side of the modern hotel were the views over the city.

 

Gdańsk was reduced to piles of stone and brick during WWII by Allied and Soviet bombers.  Almost all of what you see here was reconstructed during the 1950s and 1960s.

 

As luck would have it, we arrived in Gdańsk right in the middle of the annual St. Dominic's Fair. With 750 years of successful tradition, the history of the Fair goes back to the year 1260, when it was established by the decree of Pope Alexander IV. 

 

St. Dominic's Fair brought tourists from all over Poland, Europe, and the Far East.

 

Every street in the city was set up with stalls selling food and crafts. It was the biggest street food and crafts fair I have ever seen!

 

In addition to the street stalls, the fair attracted artists . . . 

 

 . . . buskers . . .

 

 . . . street performers . . .

 

 . . . morose balloon salesperson . . .

 

 . . . historically costumed information givers . . . giving me the Evil Eye! YAR!

 

 . . . and this guy (wearing a hat that said Crime!) who tried to entice the tourists to wager on his 'snail races.' The street fair was, in many ways, still like its medieval origins.

 

We enjoyed shopping at the many interesting crafts stalls.

 

Interesting bags . . .

 

 . . . very cool hats . . .

 

 . . . very cool hat and bag!  There were some very unusual arts at the fair.

 

Many beautiful textiles on sale.  We bought many things at the these stalls to take back home to Scotland with us.  I bought a hat!

 

These street stalls were so cute: they mimicked the style of the Gdańsk buildings.

 

The textiles, hats, and bags were nice . . . but the variety of FOOD at the festival was incredible!!!

 

The breads were fantastic!

The breads were fantastic!

I was in pig heaven for sausage lovers like me!

 

SAUSAGE!!!!

 

I loved cured and smoked pork fat as a child . . . a few thin slabs on a piece of peasant bread . . . mmmmmm!  But I resisted! 

 

Cures and smoked meats . . . a very Eastern European way of eating . . . and so very tasty!

 

Many of the shops put their fruits and vegetables out on the street.

 

Temperate climate fruits are a real treat for us.  These kinds of fruit in Bangkok cost a small fortune, so we went crazy living in Europe for a few years.

 

Lovely fruit.

 

Whole heads of sunflowers . . . that's the way to sell sunflower seeds!

 

Fresh, crispy cucumbers!

 

They had every kind of street food at the fair, including this actual Burrito Truck!  Amazing! (I didn't buy one, and immediately regreted it!)

 

We bought a lot at the wooden spoon stand to take back home to our cottage in Scotland.

 

A dealer of art and socks . . .

 

A woman set up her stool and sold her own crocheted items.  Sweet.

 

There were many buskers, but this guy was exceptionally good.

 

The weather varied from bright sunshine to dark clouds and sudden bursts of rain.

We found thee perfect Old Europe restaurant  . . .

We were hungry for lunch and found this charming old restaurant.

 

Down along the river quay.  A fine medieval dock crane on the far left.

 

River cruise ship for the tourists . . . 

 

For me, the lure of Gdańsk was the marvelous array of fascinating architecture.

 

A few of the old buildings survived the carpet bombing.

 

Such an odd building . . . all roof and dormers . . .

 

Narrow alleys, cobbles streets, ancient buildings . . . the charms of old Europe.

 

Here and there . . . public art . . .

 

My love of old doors, walls and windows was satisfied in a big way in Gdańsk!

 

I was told by a shopkeeper that some of these grand old doors and their stone casings were pulled from the rubble after the bombings and restored and reused.  Marvelous.

 

I marveled at these windows . . . exquisite!

 

Such lovely symmetry, color, shape . . .

 

A gate from the time of horse drawn carriages . . .

 

I loved the whimsical display.

 

So sweet.

 

A weathered door . . . and . . .

 

 . . . and its context.

 

A fine, formal marble doorway.

 

High relief stonework.  Nice.

 

Not all of Gdańsk's doors were as appreciated as I would like to have seen.

 

The views out over Gdańsk at night from our high rise hotel room were wonderful.

 

Making this photo blog about this wonderful city has made me very homesick for living in Europe . . . 

 

I don't know if I will ever return to Gdańsk, but I know I will always have fond memories of it.