words, thoughts
There’s a terrible mess
On the shores of Loch Ness
Where the monster’s been chucking her bones.
There’s bonnets and sporrans
All tattered and torn
And a pile of chewed-up mobile phones.
Excerpt from Donald Nelson’s Too Messy for Nessie
Loch Lomond
Glencoe
Fort Augustus
Urquhart Castle
Loch Ness
O ye’ll tak’ the high road, and I’ll tak’ the low road,
And I’ll be in Scotland afore ye,
But me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks o’ Loch Lomond
Castle Stirling
Loch Lomond
My folks and I took a daytrip out of Edinburgh to see a wee bit of the Scottish countryside with Rabbies, and it was honestly one of the best guided tour experiences that I’ve had in quite a long time, certainly on the same level as that of the guide in Versailles, and definitely way above any of those of tour groups from Singapore.
Edinburgh Castle would be the highlight for most visitors to the 2 major cities of Scotland, but really I think it should be Castle Stirling. Sure, it’s not nearly as accessible, but its sure a looker to behold, both within and of the countryside that surrounds it. The re-built historic rooms are certainly beautiful, though I’m not quite sure how I feel about the almost Disney-esque inclusion of 16th-century costumed actors. I suppose it brings the castle’s history to life…
The pièce de résistance of the tour however was simply the views from Loch Lomond. It is truly a beautiful place, and it is only upon repeated visits that one fully grasps how vast the body of water actually is. I honestly don’t know which bit we stopped at, but it was quaint regardless, and a perfect place to begin a short hike around the lake. I suppose it’s easier to let the pictures do justice to the place.
Oh how you both have aged, I must treasure the time that I have with you.
Arthur’s Seat
Royal Mile
Edinburgh Castle
I can’t think of a better way to experience Edinburgh than by going up Arthur’s Seat. Granted, we didn’t go to the summit, but that’s fine, the view from midways was also divine. Or perhaps that was due to the almost rare bout of sunshine we had that particular evening, I don’t know.
En-route (up and down) was a truly odd piece of architecture – the Scottish Parliament – it’s particularly hard to describe, other than being excessively detailed on the facade, but I think I like it’s bravado. It definitely says something about the Scottish spirit, especially in this particular political climate. I’m sure it’s as relevant now as it was when the Scots first got their devolved government.
It’s interesting I suppose that we begin each day of Edinburgh seeing this particular staircase – it’s quite the archetype of the Scottish tenement typology of housing (without lifts!) It certainly was a shock when we got there from the train station, not realising that lifting luggage up 4 floors would be such a pain. But it was a pleasantly comfortable abode regardless.
Being lazy tourists that we were (or rather, exhausted ones at that), we opted for one of those open top bus tours to bring us around the city. Oh, Princes Street Gardens is simply a gem, every city should have a generous green space in the middle of its city centre. I suppose that’s what Central Park feels like, though I wouldn’t know.
And certainly as tourists, Edinburgh Castle was simply unmissable, though its a shame that it should feel like merely a check off the bucket list. I suppose I’m not one to fully appreciate castles, or the complexity of what they are (and certainly more so when they become so touristy). That being said, the Scottish War Memorial on it’s grounds was quite a moving space to encounter, because of how somber it is as an atmosphere, though more significantly because it reminded me of how many have had to die in the name of the inane wars that humanity chooses to wage against their brethren.
May we learn to live in peace.
York City Walls
York Minster
Treasurer’s House
York Royal Theatre
The Shambles
York Castle Museum
I suppose if my time in York had to be summarised into two images, it might be these two – that of the city walls, and York’s winding and narrow (though this particular one isn’t fully narrow enough) alleyways. It’s perhaps most striking that a set of walls can be such a joy to use, both as a point of reference, and just a means to wander from.
Its interesting how most people spend a day or so in York, and my folks and I spent three there.
We had an immensely relaxing time in York, especially after a (overly – I admit) packed itinerary in both London and Paris (though this isn’t entirely by choice, it’s just because everything closes so early in York). And we were fortunate to be staying in an apartment-ish setting in York, so there was always somewhere comfortable to retreat to in the evenings.
I suppose the charms of being in a small-ish town is the ability to walk to anywhere – nothing was more than 20 minutes away from where we were, it was easy to get to know the city’s streets quite quickly (at least enough to get by).
I still don’t quite know what to make of York Minster; grand as it was, it still just felt like any other cathedral. Perhaps it was the rain that we experienced that day, or it was the other sights from the previous portions of our travels that left me feeling a little jaded. Still charming, in its own subtle way I suppose.
The rain does make for some lovely pictures though.
A trip to York wouldn’t be complete without a stop by the Shambles, but in spite of its intrinsic charm, something about crowds of tourists, jostling about with oversized brollies, does not quite make an enjoyable experience. Tea at Betty’s was also equally packed, though far more delightful.
I suppose that’s it for York.
Museum Day
Museé du Louvre
Museé de l’Orangerie
Museé d’Orsay
Sacré-Coueur
What is a trip to Paris without seeing its great institutions. But they are certainly exhausting to visit, and certainly I was too ambitious – my feet, and those of my parents undoubtedly, ached unyielding the next day. I suppose there’s a price to pay for culture, beyond the admission fees.
Unfortunately, during my previous trip to Paris (it was unfortunately a short one, en-route to Switzerland), the Louvre was closed – must have been a Tuesday, or the staff were on strike. Shame. Yet, perhaps it is a better experience to have seen it now than then, when I’m a little more enlightened architecturally, and better yet, in the summer sunlight. Oh Pei’s pyramid is truly a crystalline masterpiece – it remains contemporary even till this day.
I’m especially proud of the fact that we covered nearly the whole museum in about half a day, though certainly that involved skimming by much of the vast collection – simply to experience the vastness of the Louvre is something in its own right, and a draining one at at that.
Perhaps a palette-cleanser of sort, Monet’s Water Lilies were delightfully serene, almost zen-like in their oval-opalescent home. There was surreal, a zen-like calm in the space, a far cry from the busyness just outside at the Tuileries Gardens. Monet’s meditative and considered brush-strokes were a joy to appreciate, and inappropriate as this may seem, he might have been the VR artist of his time I suppose, crafting such an immersive work.
I suppose that was the highlight of my time at the Museé de l’Orangerie; it did house a beautiful collection of early modern art as well, but its hard to trump such an artistic and spatial accomplishment that it shares a building with. Certainly the Cézannes, Matisses, Derains were boldly beautiful, but Monet’s were still the most evocative.
It likely was museum fatigue by this point, but the most enjoyable part of d’Orsay was simply the building. Sure, the Impressionist pieces at the previous gallery were a good primer into this space, but we had by this point seen one too many paintings and sculptures. To marvel at how the (honestly relatively invasive) modern insertions were handled, and to enjoy the spatial richness they afforded to an otherwise cavernous former railway station, is simply impressive. One certainly does not see this sort of PO-MO forms much these days, outside of hipster architectural renderings and branding or wrapping paper, certainly a nice juxtaposition to the forms present in classical sculpture.
Ending off the day, was a lovely meal by the road-side at a bistro in the Montmartre area. Sacré-Coeur was beautiful, but I suppose its better in the day.
It was a long day.
Musee Rodin
Versailles
Centre Pompidou
Having booked an afternoon trip to Versailles, we didn’t have too much time to spare at Musee Rodin, but even just a morning in the jardin was time well spent. It was a beautiful oasis away from the annoyance and anger of what happened the day before, and a reminder that this trip was one to be enjoyed, not wallowed away. So onward we trudged to Versailles.
I remember being completely enamoured by Versailles as a child (along with Fabergé); the sheer scale of it as an undertaking, and the intricacies that it displayed, were unfathomable through mere pictures in books. And to think, this is but a vestige of what it once was before the revolution.
Perhaps this is why what intrigued me the most, once I got there, was how subdued some sections of Versailles could be. Sure, Louis XIV was ostentatiously impressive, but the neoclassical touches were so carefully handled as well. And of course, how modern installations sit in so well (Roman and Erwan Bouroullec’s Swarovski chanderlier was genius). The whole place was simply an enfilade of rooms after rooms, I’m certainly glad to have seen the private apartments as well – it was a refreshing change of atmosphere, away from the intrusions of hoards of tourists.
Certainly a complete antithesis to Versailles, was Centre Pompidou. I certainly wonder what the Versailles guide must have thought of us when we asked him how we could get there, he certainly thought of the Piano’s building as being an “ugly thing with blue pipes”. Perhaps he thought of us as degenerates (lol), but he was terribly friendly regardless.
I can’t say that I enjoy Pompidou as much as the Tate Modern, simply because of how it is experienced. The Tate’s curation just seems tighter, somehow, while Pompidou feels encyclopaedic or repository-like, particularly in its modern art collection. That is surely befitting of its industrial-high-tech aesthetic. Hmm.
It was however amazing to see Junya Ishigami’s models on display, though strangely, I can’t say that I have gained a deeper understanding of them (apart from their intricacies), than I had through his book. I suppose that’s just a reflection of how well-crafted the book is.
Heading forward
London, you sure were beautiful.
Tate Modern
Tower of London
Piccadilly Circus
Being (sightly ignorant) silly tourists that we were, we had little idea that the massive wooden installation we strolled by along the Thames was part of a commemoration of the 350th anniversary of the Great Fire, impressed as we were then. I believe that it was only when we were in York, at nearly a week later, that we found out on the tele… it would have been a stunning display.
I must say that I was most excited to visit the Tate Modern – what a beauty it was. Contemporary art often gets the flak for being impossible to understand, but the Tate does it wonderfully. I can’t say that I remember the names of those 2 installations above (for unfortunate reasons, alas), but they were so wonderfully evocative. Light and shadow, and sheer mass. Damnably architectural. Perhaps wonderfully expressed by the roof-top view (of the old wing) from the café. And the food was pretty good too!
I can’t say that the Tower of London was fully my cup of tea, it was incredibly touristy – as expected – but the Yeomans there are one feisty and lively bunch, so full of zeal in trying to bring the history of the castle, and the heritage of their roles, to life.
I suppose no visit to London would be complete without stopping by Piccadilly Circus, and all I can say is that I quite like how the photo below turned out.
Sir John Soane Museum
The British Museum
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time, Gielgud Theatre
Photography wasn’t allowed in John Soane’s abode, for (I quote) the sake of “preserving its magical atmosphere for others”. The snap-happy Asian in me might have been a little disappointed, but it certainly is a wise decision. Photography will not be able to capture the complexity of the space, and for good reason. It was breathtaking, that a small abode could be so complex, not solely through its heavy ornamentation, but in the sectional nature of how its spaces relate to each other. Spaces with moving theatricality (literally), atmospheres created deliberately with coloured glass; it is a space that has to be experienced, as opposed to being framed. Overwhelming might perhaps be a more apt word; there is indeed a sublime atmosphere within, perhaps due to the baggage of history amplified through space.
En-route though, was LSE’s brick-clad Saw Hock Student Centre. To be honest, it comes across as being keen to do a little too much, but isn’t just about every building these days like that as well. The brick-work is however immaculate; I’ve always been in awe at how British vernacular architecture has such a strong penchant for brick, and how it continues to evolve and remain contemporary. Perhaps that’s the power of a singular unit, a module of sort. Try-hard or not however, it is a pretty photogenic building though, with its ambitious angles, and almost voyeuristic lace-like brick-composed fenestrations.
For all the hype that the British Museum sets itself out to be, I can say that there is nothing more tiresome than a terribly overcrowded spot on a summer’s afternoon. Foster’s Great Court is simply genius, but perhaps more enjoyable was the atmosphere that enveloped the Elgin Marbles. The hoards that visit them make little noise, save for the shuffling of footsteps, and the occasional gasp. It must the temple-like atmosphere, and the scale of the works.
It might not be a good idea to catch a play after a long day of sight-seeing, but my over-ambitious travel plans thought otherwise. Catching an adaptation of Mark Haddon’s Curious Incident on stage meant something to me – it conjures nostalgia for my O’ Level Literature days. It was entirely lovely, though our seats weren’t the best (a shame).
the whole city becomes a plastic experience, a journey through pressures and vacuums, a sequence of exposures and enclosures, of constraint and relief
—Townscapes, Gordon Cullen
musings 