Brett Rants

Foggy Old England

...along with the sunny parts, too...

The blue topped rental barge is making a turn around a fog shrouded curve in the canal, it was very river like, fog in the morning, burning off, with near thunderstorm conditions later in the day, we hardly ever made it to the roof, preferring to shimmy along the edge, in the far front was a place to sit, which was nice during one of the mile long tunnels, yes, mile long tunnels, one of them might have been two miles long, truly incredible, the canal through the tunnel only had clearance for two boats passing each other plus a foot or so, amazingly, we sometimes passed by, maybe often passed by another boat, without a bump, on a long tunnel the light behind would fade before the light in front emerged, it very much was like the wild ride in Willie Wonka, down the chocolate river

Canal Trip

What does one remember ten or more years later?

There were four of us on the boat. A crew of three or more was required: one to pilot and two to work the locks. Rounding out that number is the only reason I was invited. I was the plus one's plus one.

I'll only post the one (Narrow Boat) image. The rest simply are not that interesting (or no more interesting than this one), consisting of:
I won the camera in a contest, some store raffle which I had entered. It was a bottom of the line version of the camera they were hawking. It's sort of odd how they gave me the inferior model in order to save ten dollars... or however much more it would have cost the manufacturer to gift me the primo model. No zoom. Auto focus. A complete point and shoot. I took a few hundred pictures over the course of two weeks. These days, I'd take that many in a day.

I think we ate out every night, always tying-up (i.e. ending the day) close enough to a tavern to get some food. But I remember a stop towards the end of the week the best... or at least, this is what I wish to relate. And going inside, sitting down, the room rocked and swayed as if it was afloat. I was getting Sea Sick on Dry Land! It was pretty trippy... all the more so, since the Tavern looked like the inside of a ship. I remember plenty of wood beams. But if I went so far as to say it was decorated with a nautical theme, I might be making stuff up.

I'm sure I could tell story after story, recounting day after day of the trip. But the good bits have been converted to fiction elsewhere. And this is not intended to be a major project, just pushing a few pictures along... to wherever here is.

looking down a very slight water way, the abbey is framed in the distance between a tree and a shrub, it was quite the park, a pleasant place to spend a day, I could easily do it or another like it again, and if I were a local, I might drop by on the regular, whenever they talk of medieval villages, whoever they are, I picture this place, filling it out with the scores and scores of labourers and dependents who would have occampanied the monks

Fountain's Abbey

This is the Postcard Shot: the shot on the postcards in the gift shop. Well, some of them. They must have handled that tree in the middle differently. Or course in the autumn (this was a week into The Spring Bloom), the leafs and such would make the shot.

I liked this place. It was the first stop (if I remember correctly) after we got off the boat. But then, maybe not. I was not driving. And it was a long time ago.

There are only two other images in this folder. {This folder consisting soley of the remaining unused photographs I took of Fountains Abbey.} I'm pretty sure the bulk of the images from this vacation went into the Making the Passage post, which utilized my Ghostly Aura filter.

Anyhow, those two other images consist of:
In my teenage years, I was a big fan of The Amber Series. It had a thing called a Wild Ride... or some such. It was basically flow of consciousness, connecting one scene to the next.
I knew I was walking around the ruins of Fountains Abbey, but there was something in the air, a twitch, a turn... and suddenly, everyone was wearing hats, old hats, the type which might be worn in times of old, the women in bodices, the men in their oversized cod pieces, blue jeans turning to purple silk, as the walls spontaneously rebuilt themselves, rocks once missing, were now in place, details long lost to the sands of time, suddenly restored...
And so on and so forth.

It was a wonderful way to describe a Magical Transformation.

Anyway, back on point, there was a bit of stonework partially paving an otherwise grassy open-air room, which reminded me of The Pattern... for obvious reasons, I like to think.

The other part I liked about these ruins was being able to stand underneath it all in near catacombs... that opened directly onto sunlit grassy fields.

The place was packed. But there was nary a security guard in sight.

Lovely day.

Lovely time.

We even walked the grounds, making a loop about the lake. We might as well have been at Pemberley.

three vertical moss covered rocks, larger than a man, starting the arc of a circle, which one can see another of the number behind, between, and in back, once again, this is my only first hand experience with such stone circles and so forms the basis of such conjenctures

Rune Stones

This is as close to Stonehenge as I've ever gotten.

I was in this field for about an hour. I could have spent a lot longer here. In fact, if I were taking that {mythical} camping trip and spending the night at a ruin here and a ruin there, I could have easily spent a day (and the entire night) here. It was glorious.

In my mind, I am prone to erase the sheep... and the distant roadway, which might have been a highway. But I remember the wind and the cold and the edge of rain, which I am likely to play up, turn into a mist, and imagine a flash of lighting towards the end in the distance.

The other images in this folder included:

I believe this was at Ruskins Estate, a stone thrown, I have a picture somewhere of myself sitting in it, but I thought it best to use this image, moss covered stone slabs, fashioned into a chair, I am guessing it is a fairly common motif on such estates, I sat there for a good long time and could have sat for much longer, in fact, I would be happy to be sitting there shortly, even if the comfy chair in which I am about to recline is much more comfortable, the feel of the stone, the moss, of it all was incredible, I do not even remember being particularly concerned about poison ivy the bottom portion of a tree, growing in a hillock, or the top of a hill, these were big hills, edging on mountaints, so foothills, I am going to guess that Verde Grun precedes this, but I always imagine something alone the lines of this tree when I imagine Verde, a haze shrouded hill in the distance, this is all about the moss, blanketing the tree (ever so lightly) along with the trunk (guess which way points south), but the roots and ground are a carpet of the stuff, so nice, so soothing, I adore such moss covered forests

Much Moss

I love moss. Given unlimited money, I would set-up a steam-room full of moss. And if I never get rich, I am sure I could splurge on another vacation to these moss filled lands... maybe. Though, I've got to tell you (even if I get rich), I've often thought my money would be better spent vacationing rather than buying a house. Then again (and on the other hand), I have had great success living in exotic locales for extended periods of time. And a vacation becomes quite inexpensive that way (i.e. if one simply moves there), as the expense sort of reduces to one's default standard of living.

No one ever agrees with me. But I feel one of the principal joys in vacationing is in the temporary rise in one's standard of living. This does not hold true if one goes camping. But if one is staying at Luxury Hotels and subsisting on Five Star Dining Experiences, it most certainly is.

{A certain someone (who will remain nameless until a release is signed) has just adamantly chastised me for saying 'No one ever agrees with me' in the above. They agree with me... quite often. Just not at the present moment, as they most definitely do not agree that 'No one ever agrees with me,' a statement which I like to believe is irony at its finest.}

And I think that is as far as this series of images is going to guide me.

Other unused images, include: Finally, I will say that I find shopping to be one of the great joys of travel. And given the time, money, and inclination, I can see landing (wherever) with only a change or two of clothes, counting on the rest (of whatever one needs) to be available locally.

Of course, that said, default medications for colds and such have (historically) been fairly precious on the run. But then, the TSA's restrictions on liquids have put a damper on that sort of advance planning.

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I'm not opposed to doing a bit of laundry, while on vacation. Though, it tends to take more than a single night for things to dry. So, given that the first night in any two-night town would be laundry night, I could get away with precious little... a pair of socks, underwear, and a t-shirt for every day in-between.

Or, you know what? Let's just assume Financial Grandeur, use Room Service, and send our clothes out to be washed. Yes. That does, indeed, sound better.

© copyright 2017 & 2020 Brett Paufler
The images © circa 2007