<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015</id><updated>2009-11-15T01:00:46.932-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The World Up Close</title><subtitle type='html'>The world is a fantastic, truly awesome place. It is full of an infinite number of things to see, feel, hear, smell, and taste. All of these things combine to form the wisdom of our species. Reach out, look sharp, listen hard. Live.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>126</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-6371719834292967898</id><published>2009-11-12T11:45:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T14:10:41.827-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Museum'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='City'/><title type='text'>Firenze: Piazza della singoria and the Uffizi</title><content type='html'>Florence, known to Italians by the more spirited name Firenze, was the beating heart of the Italian Renaissance, and is today the home of countless museums and masterpieces. But the museums do bring the crowds that come to see them, particularly the top most two, the Uffizi, and the Galleria dell Academia. The Galleria is the home of David, the Uffizi houses works by not only da Vinci, Michelangelo, and Raphael, but also Titian, Caravaggio, Botticelli, and Rembrandt, amongst others. The key to seeing these works without a long wait is to arrive at the museums in the morning, to arrive before the museums open, before tour groups or many other tourists are up and about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we found ourselves on our first morning in a nearly vacant Piazza della Signoria, where the Uffizi is located. The Piazza itself is notable for it's collection of statues, as the site of the historical Bonfire of the Vanities, and the site of Palazzo Vecchio. Outside the Palazzo stands a replica of Michelangelo's David. Around the corner of the Palace is the Fountain of Neptune, Constructed in the 1500's, the crowning marble statue is not the original, housed in a museum. The rest of the fountain, in bronze and marble is mostly original, though it has been several times restored. But most of the statues are housed under the Loggia della Signoria. Here several dynamic sculptures, stood in the cool blue shadows of early morning. Among the statures are a bronze &lt;em&gt;Perseus&lt;/em&gt; by Cellini, a piece by Giambologna called &lt;em&gt;Hercules beating the Centaur&lt;/em&gt;, as well as the &lt;em&gt;Rape of Polyxena&lt;/em&gt;, and several Roman sculptures. However, by far my favorite piece is the twisted spire of bodies of the &lt;em&gt;Rape of the Sabine Women&lt;/em&gt; also by Giambologna. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Realizing a bit of a line was forming at the soon to open museum, we cut our visit to the outdoor statues short. This gallery brims with at least a few paintings from each of many masters of the paintbrush. Many of the works can be viewed at the &lt;a href="http://www.virtualuffizi.com/uffizi/roomsidx.htm"&gt;Virtual Uffizi&lt;/a&gt;. Easily the single most famous piece here, despite all the well known artists is that of the Birth of Venus, by Botticelli. The Nearly 50 rooms of work on display take 3 to 4 hours to browse over everything, or you can skim through the works by the more famous authors more quickly. Thankfully, because the museum lets people in in groups, the rooms are not as crowded as you might think, and the works are generally easy to see. Pictures are not allowed, but photographs of most of the works can be found at the above link. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Palazzo Vecchio&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5698.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5698.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David Replica&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5684.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5684.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Neptune Fountain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5689.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5689.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bronze Satyr on Neptune Fountain sheilds his face from the sun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5691.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center; cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5691.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perseus&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5714.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5714.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hercules beating the Centaur&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5707.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5707.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rape of Polyxena&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5711.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5711.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four Angles of the Rape of the Sabine Women&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5701.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5701.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5704.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5704.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5703.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5703.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5702.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5702.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Uffizi Line&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5718.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5718.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-6371719834292967898?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/6371719834292967898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=6371719834292967898' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/6371719834292967898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/6371719834292967898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/11/firenze-piazza-della-singoria-and.html' title='Firenze: Piazza della singoria and the Uffizi'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-2379001822202241596</id><published>2009-11-10T14:16:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-10T15:20:11.374-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tennessee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Entertainment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Tennessee Walking Horse Celebration</title><content type='html'>&lt;A href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SvnUl1b_QHI/AAAAAAAAAHg/112fN7qlP0A/s1600-h/Walking+Horse+Celebration+067.jpg"&gt;&lt;IMG style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402582974472339570 border=0 alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SvnUl1b_QHI/AAAAAAAAAHg/112fN7qlP0A/s320/Walking+Horse+Celebration+067.jpg"&gt;&lt;/A&gt;While attending the Wilson County Fair this summer, we picked up a pair of free tickets to the Tennessee Walking Horse Celebration in Shelbyville. This is the premier competition for the Walking Horse, and having never seen a Walking Horse in action, we went down to check it out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The event has a high school football game atmosphere, if say, the team were extremely popular. Parking was only a few dollars and not too far from the stadium. Outside the stands they were handing out thick newspapers filled with information about the competition, and a lot of full page ads for individual riders and their horses. At the entrance various local clubs were selling cold drinks, cotton candy, pizza and more. The bleachers were unusual. General seating consisted of the normal rows of seats, but the rest was divided by metal rails into little boxes, where the seating consisted of tan metal folding chairs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;A href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SvnUlhC84bI/AAAAAAAAAHY/OuuqN-Np0nY/s1600-h/Walking+Horse+Celebration+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;IMG style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id=BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402582968998617522 border=0 alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SvnUlhC84bI/AAAAAAAAAHY/OuuqN-Np0nY/s320/Walking+Horse+Celebration+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;/A&gt;The crowd was casual, jeans and t-shirts and baseball caps, despite the long coats and bowler caps of the riders. Each competition consisted of a group of riders circling the rink, slow then fast, then doing an about face and circling the opposite way, slow then fast. All of this to the beat of various fairground organ styled songs. The overall effect is somewhat intoxicating for a while, but after several courses of competition, it lost it's interest for me, and I became interested instead in the dozens of nighthawks flying in and out of the floodlights. Ultimately, we left before all the competitions were complete, having seen enough to fulfill our desire to see the show. I firmly believe that watching more than we did would require the patience of a NASCAR enthusiast. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The light atmosphere of the show is darkened by the practices historically used to achieve the blue ribbon walks. Soaring, which is both inhumane and illegal, is still practiced today, however, the Celebration has taken strides to identify and block from competition those who practice it. With stricter regulations and better detection methods, it can be hoped that the future of such a distinctly Southern tradition may continue to be carried on with a cleaner conscience.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-2379001822202241596?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/2379001822202241596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=2379001822202241596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2379001822202241596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2379001822202241596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/11/tennessee-walking-horse-celebration.html' title='Tennessee Walking Horse Celebration'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SvnUl1b_QHI/AAAAAAAAAHg/112fN7qlP0A/s72-c/Walking+Horse+Celebration+067.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-4601128915953146331</id><published>2009-11-08T13:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T15:17:14.551-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='City'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Church'/><title type='text'>Bologna afternoon</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5655.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5655.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We came to Bologna to see two things: a few of the towers the city is famous for, and the Basilica of San Domenico. We were caught up in the crowded and busy streets, and little more than glimpsed the towers of Torri Degli Asinelli e Garisenda. The haphazardly constructed city is given a coherent look thanks to the sandstone and terracotta tiles with which everything seems to be built. One of the most striking features of the city are it's colonnaded sidewalks which crowd the street and bring the cool darkness of evening to the early afternoon. They are so striking in fact, that these Porticoes of Bologna are on the tentative list for becoming a &lt;a href="http://whc.unesco.org/en/tentativelists/5010/"&gt;UNESCO World Heritage site&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually we navigated the maze and located the Basilica. It is easy to pick out, among all the like colored buildings because in front of it stands a tall pillar, topped by a statue of St. Dominic, and beside it is yet another column, this bearing a statue of Madonna of the Rosary. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5656.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5656.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The church has a baroque interior, full of marble, plaster, and paintings from vatious artists. Perched here and there, are life size plaster angels. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5658.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5658.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The church is the final resting place of St. Dominic, who once served in the church which was expanded and renamed San Domenico after the Saint's death. At the front of the church lies the impressive marble shrine. The shrine has a tower of its own, and two of the statuettes that grace it were early pieces by Michelangelo. The church is also the burial site of Guido Reni, who painted St. Dominic's Glory above St. Dominic's shrine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5659.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5659.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-4601128915953146331?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/4601128915953146331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=4601128915953146331' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/4601128915953146331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/4601128915953146331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/11/bologna-afternoon.html' title='Bologna afternoon'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-2640196299537882122</id><published>2009-11-05T14:00:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T14:51:16.875-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='City'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Church'/><title type='text'>Tempio at Rimini, Mosaics at Ravenna</title><content type='html'>When we arrived in Rimini, we found parking easily, and headed down the street to where the Tempio Malatestiano was to be located. Our directions where somewhat unclear, and we were unaware at the time that the actual name of the church is St. Francis. when Faced with an austere white marble church, we were uncertain. Was this the church that so offended the Pope at the time of its construction? We were prepared for something darker. But the church can be easily identified by the intertwined I and S, for Sigismono Malatesta and his mistress Isotta. The characters together resemble a dollar sign, and it is perhaps these marks, as well as the unusual carved details of elephants, part of Malatesta's coat of arms, which so offended the religious order. Not so much a church, as a shrine to his dead mistress, the Tempio was never fully completed as intended. It is in itself not a particularly important attraction, but is and interesting stopover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roughly an hour north of Rimini lies the town of Ravenna. Ravenna is considered a UNESCO World Heritage site due to it's fabulous mosaics located in several buildings throughout the town. A ticket can be purchased the provides admittance to several of these buildings, and they can be visited easily by foot in the main part of town. Also in the area is the final resting place of Dante. Though Florence was long his home, He died and was buried in Ravenna, a political exile. Florence has since tried to recover his remains, but Ravenna has refused, and in the early 1800's, 500 years after his death, they constructed a tomb for him among other famous Italians, but which still lies empty today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside and Outside: Tomba Di Dante. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5633.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5633.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5634.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5634.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the Tempio Malatestiano&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5564.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5564.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5571.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5571.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Various Mosaics from Ravenna&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5602.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5602.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5642.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5642.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5615.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5615.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5611.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5611.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5607.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;"src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5607.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5609.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5609.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5587.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1024px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5587.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5586.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1024px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5586.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5582.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="center; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5582.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-2640196299537882122?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/2640196299537882122/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=2640196299537882122' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2640196299537882122'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2640196299537882122'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/11/tempio-at-rimini-mosaics-at-ravenna.html' title='Tempio at Rimini, Mosaics at Ravenna'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-4896612441215505651</id><published>2009-11-05T11:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-05T13:01:29.268-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Flies</title><content type='html'>It's been over a month since the last post, and I'd like to apologize for the long gap. From the 25th of September to the 11th of October, I was in Peru, and since then haven't been motivated enough to write any updates. However, beginning today, there will begin again the regular Tuesday and Thursday Listings, as well as Sunday posts, which will last until bot the Italy and New Zealand trip have been fully reported, leaving me free to begin on 2009 trips to Washington state and Peru.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-4896612441215505651?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/4896612441215505651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=4896612441215505651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/4896612441215505651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/4896612441215505651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/10/time-flies.html' title='Time Flies'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-5011027839361469951</id><published>2009-09-17T15:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-23T11:17:13.902-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Accomodations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cave'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Zealand'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>waitomo: pretty much the most awesome thing ever</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/New%20Zealand%20base/0285ourgroupgoingdown.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 256px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/New%20Zealand%20base/0285ourgroupgoingdown.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After spending a restful night at &lt;a href="http://www.junowaitomo.co.nz/"&gt;Juno Hall Backpackers&lt;/a&gt;, we woke up early to a cool and dewy morning, and headed out to visit with the sheep and calves kept on the farm. Unfortunately, I'm afraid the hungry animals put up such a racket when they saw us that they woke up the rest of the Hostel's patrons. We headed from that small enclosure to a more open pasture, where a horse was grazing. After letting ourselves in to the field, we noticed a deer laying at the top of the hill. She noticed us about the time we noticed her, but rather than moving off, she made a bee line down the hill for us. My concern at being approached by a wild animal, even an herbivorous one, was eased when I saw she wore a collar. As we scratched it behind the ears, one of the farm owners passed by in his truck, and stopped and hopped the fence to talk to us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He could see the surprise on our faces, so he explained how the deer came to be a family pet. In New Zealand, deer are invasive; all mammals are invasive, so, there are no hunting permits required, or hunting season restrictions. As a result of this, when the man shot a doe one year, he found her pregnant. He delivered the fawn and brought it home. And so it has stayed ever since, though she could easily jump the fence and leave. He then showed us a few deer tricks. She will stand behind him and put her front feet onto his shoulders. He then tried to get us to grab her tail, and when he found us reluctant, did so himself to show us how she can shuffle her hind feet forward. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After such an entertaining morning we headed just down the road to &lt;a href="http://www.waitomo.co.nz/Waitomo_Adventures/Lost_World_Epic___7_hrs_IDL=6_IDT=1213_ID=15053_.html"&gt;Waitomo Adventures &lt;/a&gt;to take the Lost World Epic 7 hour tour. Once all five tour participants and the 2 guides had arrived, we headed by van to a picnic pavilion and showers complex located on private property. There we suited up in heavy thick wet suits, rappelling harnesses, hard hats with light and white wellington boots. Not your every day outfit for sure. We then headed for a short walk across the countryside to a ropes course where we practiced using our two carbine clips to move along a rope trail while staying safely attached. Then we headed down to the entrance to the lost world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A metal catwalk extends out over an open abyss. Over 300 feet below, the pit's bottom was a mix of misty green and wet rock. We were all safely clipped to a rope before being led onto the catwalk and being asked to sit back onto a bar that floated over nothingness. Once seated, our harnesses were clipped onto roped for the trip down. For safety, we were connected to our guides by a lead rope. And then came the hard part. Slide forward off the bar and sitting into the harness itself. Being supported over the drop by only a rope. Having done it, feeling the stability and solidness of the harness support, all fear was forgotten, and we began to feed rope through the clip to begin our descent. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/New%20Zealand%20base/0290throughthelostworld.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 256px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/New%20Zealand%20base/0290throughthelostworld.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the first 10 feet or so, feet touch the rock wall. After that, the rock recedes and you hang in the open, the only contact to the solid earth, the rope, less than an inch in diameter. Through the mist below, the green became distinguishable leaves, individual rocks began to stand out, and then we were down, standing on our feet again at the bottom. And here we paused to eat before beginning the long journey out. Nothing fancy. Sandwiches and cookies in the strange light. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our first task was to head across this gap to the far end, to scramble down boulders, to reach water level. The distance was not far, but the suits, designed to keep us warm in the cold water, heated up quickly. At the edge of the water, an eel, maybe a foot long swam, attracted perhaps by our head lamps. They live in the waters of the cave, and throughout New Zealand. But the lure of the cool water was enough to get me in, despite the dark surface and the eels it might hide. After all, the only other way out was a rather tall ladder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plunge into the waters marked my first wet suit experience. Cold water rushed in at the edges and stole my breath. The water here is deep, and we were headed against the current. Thick ropes lay hidden below the water, and we groped our way along as our suits held our bodies to the surface. The trip was an alternation of floating comfortably through deep water, and trudging through shin deep water with heavy water laden boots. In between we navigated across a churning basin at the foot of one falls, and attempted to climb right up another less dangerous one. We used a rope swing to climb into an upper chamber, then dropped through a hole back into the water below, with all lights out. We belly crawled beneath a boulder for the fun of it, and took a break on a sandy bar to have a surprise hot drink and a chocolate fish one of the guides had packed in all that way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/New%20Zealand%20base/0311thegroupinthewater.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 192px; height: 256px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/New%20Zealand%20base/0311thegroupinthewater.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, as we neared the end of the cave, too far from the entrance for light, but near enough for insects to wander, we paused a final time. We turned out our headlamps and looked up. Scattered across the ceiling like a pale green milky way shone a thousand points of light. They are glow worms. Hunters that lure insects with their light, and ensnare them with sticky strings, I had read about them in one of those strange fact columns in a magazine growing up. Here they were. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After spending a long time looking, we finally got back to our feet, and before long we saw light, as the stream flowed out into the day. climbing up out of that small valley to the never ending expanse of sheep fields, we began our trek back to our start point. The walk felt long and hot, and was fraught with manure. Finally, we crested one of the many rolling hills and spotted our pavilion. While we hit the showers, our guides cooked up steaks, sausage, and potatoes, and set out salads and drinks. We ate our food and talked about our travels, and finally loaded back into the van to return to the main office. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is one of the most fun and amazing experiences I've had anywhere. It was difficult for me, as I am not in great shape, but it was absolutely worth the cost, the time and the effort. I would recommend this as the number one thing to do while visiting New Zealand if you are physically able. Simply amazing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-5011027839361469951?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/5011027839361469951/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=5011027839361469951' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/5011027839361469951'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/5011027839361469951'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/09/waitomo-pretty-much-most-awesome-thing.html' title='waitomo: pretty much the most awesome thing ever'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-5646406526525792450</id><published>2009-09-15T12:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-22T14:34:38.764-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Museum'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><title type='text'>Urbino and the Museum of the Hard to Find</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5550.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5550.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Urbino is a bristling brown city that covers a small hill. Parking outside the city walls, we entered through the gates and wound our way up stairs and slopping narrow alleys between the crowded buildings to the Palazzo Ducale. The Palazzo is a UNESCO world heritage site, and its famous facade as well as the museum inside it are the main attraction of this small city. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only we couldn't find it. We climbed the hill to the main piazza, and looked around at the buildings, and saw no signs. We did see a sign leading up some of the stairs we came to get here, but in the square, there didn't appear to be any museum. We circled back down hill, and returned searching again. Then, we realized that there was a small open doorway on the piazza, tucked into a corner near some construction. There was not a sign in sight, but here was the Palazzo Ducale and the Galleria Nazionale delle Marche. It's famous facade disguised by plywood surrounding construction work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5560.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5560.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The museum, housed in this graceful palace consists mainly of Renaissance works. In fact, according to wikipedia, it is one of the most important such collections in the world. But despite the works by master artists such as Raphael and Titian, a small room known as the Studiolo steals the show. This small room, a sort of renaissance era study, is entirely decorated in wooden inlay work. The entire room looks like it is filled with shelves and cabinets, and the shelves are filled with accoutrements of a thinking mind. But all of these details are but works of art, created by perfectly cut and variously shaded pieces of wood fit together like a puzzle. While no pictures were allowed inside, the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Palazzo_Ducale,_Urbino#Galleria_Nazionale_delle_Marche"&gt;wikipedia entry&lt;/a&gt; about the Palazzo does show a few examples of the work in this room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-5646406526525792450?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/5646406526525792450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=5646406526525792450' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/5646406526525792450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/5646406526525792450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/09/urbino-and-museum-of-hard-to-find.html' title='Urbino and the Museum of the Hard to Find'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-6479060948627904649</id><published>2009-09-10T15:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T13:51:35.422-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='D.C.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Jersey'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Family Reunion, Further evidence things do not always go according to plans:</title><content type='html'>Late in July was the family reunion for my mother's side of the family. This is the third year running we have gotten together, and this year it was held at my uncle's house near Atlantic City New Jersey. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the drive up, we decided to make a detour through D.C. to see if we could visit a few monuments. We first ran into trouble early Friday morning. We were stuck in interstate deadlock for several hours due to a series of accidents ahead of us. We would learn later that an accident involving 4 tractor trailers and 1 car resulted in a terrible fire that consumed everything but the cab of the front most truck, the tail end of the hindmost trailer, and the frame of the car. While the drivers of the big rigs survived, the two people in the car were not so lucky. We saw only the wreckage pass us on several flatbeds headed south, and the equipment tearing up and repaving the road at the site of the accident. There was also another tractor trailer on its side in the ditch here, a secondary accident caused by the traffic related to the first, and a situation just not high on the priority list this morning. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we arrived in D.C. hoping, with the few spare minutes we had left for a stopover, to see the sites. But unable to find parking, we merely circled about the monuments and the white house. As we drove up Constitution Ave. to the intersection with Pennsylvania, a policeman drove his car abruptly across our lane. He jumped out and began clearing the traffic from Pennsylvania, one hand on his holstered gun. This younger thinner Denzel Washington shouted at pedestrians crossing the street and a car that thought it could sneak around. Moments later, a motorcade passed, going from the white house to the Capitol Building. The limousines were flying the flags of the Commander in Chief. Having seen more than we could have expected with such little time to spend, we were on our way again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, the morning's accident was not a singularity. We navigated several more accidents and lane closures, and a few tolls before finally entering the state of New Jersey. As we turned off the interstate, onto a small two lane highway for the rest of our trip, we though we were in the clear. This was not quite the case. We had not gotten very far before we encountered our last obstacles, a severed telephone pole and the apparently volunteer police. Due to the pole, we were detoured onto even skinnier country roads and looped back to the main highway, roughly half a mile further on. The tractor trailers crept down the roads and carefully navigated the 90 degree turns. After another 45 minutes delay, we were on our way yet again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After 16 hours in the car, we finally arrived at my uncles house, to find almost everyone had gone to the boardwalk. Not really feeling like good company anyway, we made our way to a local diner, Julianos, where I enjoyed a great meatball sub. This was a bar, a restaurant, and also something of a convenience store. Coolers with beer for purchase lined the far wall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was spent with family, making food and watching the kids play. In the early afternoon, some, myself and my husband included loaded up in a couple vans and headed to the beach. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have swam in the ocean along the Carolinas and northern parts of Florida. I found this particular beach surprising because you could walk out a fair distance without a drop off, and yet, there were pretty large waves coming in. We had a pretty good time. What I wasn't so excited about was the fact that the water left my skin slightly sticky to the touch. I have since decided, based on Internet research, that this was likely due to human effluent pumped out by the large metropolis just to the north. But at the time, I was not deterred from swimming. What did finally get me out of the water was a small crab that scuttled across my foot, and mistaking my ring toe for a small fish, grabbed me with his claw, and left me with effectively a deep paper cut across the top of my toe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having retreated back to the towels, the kids and a few adults headed up the beach to investigate a dead ray that was beached there. While this didn't exactly improve the beach's image in my mind, it was reassuring to know that Southerners aren't the only ones who poke dead things with sticks. But even we don't touch them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the time we returned to our stuff, Jake had gone wandering down the beach in search of us. Then, naturally, he stopped to investigate the rocks there, and found among other things a small starfish that had washed onto the sand. After showing it around to the kids and me, we headed back to the rocks to find it a perch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our way back from the beach, my aunt and uncle took us by Lucy the Elephant. You can see a good video about her &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KYs4APHTIdU"&gt;right here.&lt;/a&gt; Things like this really strike my interests, and rest assured, on a return trip, I won't be swimming again, but I will be taking a tour.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-6479060948627904649?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/6479060948627904649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=6479060948627904649' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/6479060948627904649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/6479060948627904649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/09/family-reunion-further-evidence-things.html' title='Family Reunion, Further evidence things do not always go according to plans:'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-2462476516135541610</id><published>2009-09-08T12:06:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T14:34:58.329-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Accomodations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Cave'/><title type='text'>The Cave, The Grand Hotel, and the Quaint Hostel</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5545.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 384px; height: 288px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5545.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After a day visiting monster gardens and saintly churches, we took a little time to visit something that is of the more natural world. Italy's Grotte di Frasassi consists of large caverns and large formations. The tour lasts just over an hour, and the entrance lies in a scenic gorge. If you enjoy caves, you won't be disappointed, the cave is a somewhat inflated version of the many smaller privately operated caves in Tennessee and Kentucky. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, we headed to San Marino. A small town perched at the top or a isolated crag San Marino is, like Vatican City, a nation independent from Italy. We largely visited just to say that we had. We arrived after dark at our hostel, where a small and wrinkled elderly &lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5547.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 384px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5547.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;woman greeted us in her own hallway, and let us into our room. To anyone visiting, I would recommend &lt;a href="http://www.affittacamere.sm/"&gt;Affitta Camere Franciosi&lt;/a&gt; as a nice inexpensive place to stay. Our room was equipped with a kitchenette, and the front patio was covered in tropical plants. The woman directed me to smell the large trumpet shaped flowers hanging heavily from one bush. The rich sweet smelling flowers were wonderful, and when I asked for the name she answered in Italian, and I was able to figure out when I got back home that they're called Angel's Trumpets here. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After this, we went on a search for food. This being a pretty small town, there weren't too many options, and we finally Settled on the &lt;a href="http://www.grandhotel.sm/page_view.php?layout=COPERTINA"&gt;Grand Hotel San Marino&lt;/a&gt; It was a prix fixe menu, but unlike the &lt;a href="http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2008/06/remnants-at-paestum.html"&gt;seafood incident&lt;/a&gt;, we knew what we were getting into. From crisp spinach filled appetizers to lemon basil ravioli, steak and sausage main course, and small and sweet chocolate deserts, this was one of the best meals we had within Italy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sadly, we hardly stopped to take a picture of San Marino, and we were gone with first light for new adventures. We barely paused to take a picture of the entrance after coming down the hill as we left. San Marino is more than just a place to sleep and eat, and for those whose travel is a little more leisure oriented than mine, it would certainly be relaxing to spend a few days.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-2462476516135541610?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/2462476516135541610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=2462476516135541610' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2462476516135541610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2462476516135541610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/09/cave-grand-hotel-and-quaint-hostel.html' title='The Cave, The Grand Hotel, and the Quaint Hostel'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-6127601313783450377</id><published>2009-09-03T14:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T14:30:00.764-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wyoming'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Utah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Idaho'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><title type='text'>As good things must</title><content type='html'>The last day of our August 2006 trip started out as we drove to fossil butte NM. There is a museum there, and a few trails. Along the road to the museum we spotted a ruffed grouse, and snapped a picture, though it blends in so well It's a little hard to make out. The museum has a video on the fossils, and some very nice specimens on display. We made some crayon rubbings from the fossil plaques they had on display, but at this point, I just didn't want to do a lot more hiking/walking. Instead of hiking, we went hunting for a fossil store. and we found one, back in town, with a nice man running the counter who sold us a basic fish fossil for a reasonable price, and a cross section of a petrified tree that looks nice on our mantle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having had our fill of fossils, we headed into Utah. Just as you cross the state border, there are huge red rocks that cut up into the air, but after a while they diminish, then disappear all together. By the time we arrived in Salt Lake City, the terrain had grown to resemble Idaho. We stopped in town only to eat at a Marie Calender's. We probably should have ordered pot pies, because the food we did order was so bland, I think the meat was boiled and not seasoned at all. It was perfectly edible, but I cook better food at home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued on to Antelope Island, located in Salt Lake. And we did see antelope, as well as buffalo among the golden grass and sunflowers. Satisfied with a drive around the island, we headed back to Boise, stopping to eat a huge ice cream desert at the same Jaker's we'd had dinner at when we first began our trip. Finally, we returned to ground zero, and boarded the plane the next morning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-6127601313783450377?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/6127601313783450377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=6127601313783450377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/6127601313783450377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/6127601313783450377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/09/as-good-things-must.html' title='As good things must'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-2028015254671634686</id><published>2009-09-01T15:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T13:31:49.385-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Church'/><title type='text'>Basilica Di San Francesco</title><content type='html'>Assisi is the final resting place of my Favorite Saint, and home to the most famous monks. Before the brilliant green lawn inscribed with the Latin word for peace, and before the arched entryway in the The Piazza del Loge mill monks in their brown robes, and nuns in their black and white attire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The church is perched atop the hill here, and beyond it there appears only sky. The building is mostly white, and from the exterior, very simple, not at all the striking image many churches in Italy have. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The church is on two levels. The lower level, entered though the side doors is decorated in frescoes, and houses the tomb of St. Francis. Above, the vaulted ceiling sweeps upward, sunlight shines through stain glass windows into a dark interior. Here too, frescoes, by great masters of the both known and unnamed, grace the walls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-2028015254671634686?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/2028015254671634686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=2028015254671634686' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2028015254671634686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2028015254671634686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/09/basilica-di-san-francesco.html' title='Basilica Di San Francesco'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-2380262122133668474</id><published>2009-08-27T15:42:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-31T13:46:25.093-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='National Park'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Food'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Accomodations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waterfalls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Lewis, Natchez, Avaleen, and some very good Junk.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwYaR-_bUI/AAAAAAAAAGg/hvsGKv7C0nU/s1600-h/Hohenwald+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwYaR-_bUI/AAAAAAAAAGg/hvsGKv7C0nU/s320/Hohenwald+005.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376198894956801346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwYazRPyJI/AAAAAAAAAGo/Ud60LVcChvU/s1600-h/Hohenwald+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwYazRPyJI/AAAAAAAAAGo/Ud60LVcChvU/s320/Hohenwald+009.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376198903891740818" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In mid July we took a little trip down to the area of Tennessee that is south of Nashville. This is one part of the state I haven't been to much, aside from once making a brief visit to the Natchez Trace Pkwy. And this visit too, began with a stretch of the Trace, and a piece of history that was new to me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might not immediately recognize the name Merriweather Lewis, but if I told you he took an expedition with William Clark, you might guess who he is. Well, after returning from that famous trip, Lewis became Governor of the Louisiana Territory. Business brought him along the Natchez Trace. While there is some controversy as to what brought his life to an end near Hohenwald, TN, it is generally accepted as a suicide. Merriweather Lewis died and was buried right here in Tennessee. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made another stop along the Trace to take a short walk to see fall hollow. This aptly name little spot is a small hollow/holler/gully which two small streams pour into creating several small but pretty waterfalls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this area also is the &lt;a href="http://www.amberfallswinery.com/"&gt;Amber Falls Winery&lt;/a&gt;. This winery has a broad selection of wines. We tasted the sweet and semi-sweet, and were not disappointed by any we tried. We picked up a couple bottles, and then headed to Linden, and the &lt;a href="http://www.bbonline.com/tn/avaleen/"&gt;Avaleen Springs Bed and Breakfast&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwZgTBm64I/AAAAAAAAAHI/Fcf603-eyiE/s1600-h/Hohenwald+066.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwZgTBm64I/AAAAAAAAAHI/Fcf603-eyiE/s320/Hohenwald+066.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376200097827056514" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwYcDpaL9I/AAAAAAAAAG4/-leol914SiQ/s1600-h/Hohenwald+041.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwYcDpaL9I/AAAAAAAAAG4/-leol914SiQ/s320/Hohenwald+041.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376198925467922386" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The first thing we saw when we pulled up were orange tabby cats everywhere.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwYcrvt_3I/AAAAAAAAAHA/remabDlAVO4/s1600-h/Hohenwald+064.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwYcrvt_3I/AAAAAAAAAHA/remabDlAVO4/s320/Hohenwald+064.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376198936231804786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwYbYtp_eI/AAAAAAAAAGw/yxThjlJf27Q/s1600-h/Hohenwald+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwYbYtp_eI/AAAAAAAAAGw/yxThjlJf27Q/s320/Hohenwald+025.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376198913943010786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the owner greeted us and showed us the cabin and the dinning/social area with books, movies and boardgames in the guesthaus, we were left alone to explore the properties 30 acres with trails leading past friendly fish in a beaver pond, small waterfalls, and little statues tucked in every corner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwZg0Zc2sI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/RZaJLLUp_bQ/s1600-h/Hohenwald+069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwZg0Zc2sI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/RZaJLLUp_bQ/s320/Hohenwald+069.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376200106785430210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For diner, we headed into Hohenwald to eat at the Junkyard Dog Steakhouse, whose quirky atmosphere and good food make it an unusual find for such a small town. The walls are hung heavy with decorations, ranging from old school sports pictures, to mardi gras beads and masques, to western items. The steaks were perfect, tender and juicy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After returning full to the Bed and Breakfast, we spent the twilight relaxing in adirondack chairs, a cat in each lap, and a glass of wine as we watched bats dart overhead in the darkening sky. In addition to the relaxing atmosphere outside, the inside of the cabin impressed as well, with a cedar latter that could be used to climb to a loft, and a massive tub that, combined with the jets and the provided bubble bath made enough foam to fill my tub at home a few times over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall, I was very impressed with this little corner of my home state. It's one area I hope to visit again soon, maybe to watch the leaves change, and have a good steak. Coincidentally, Hohenwald is also home of the &lt;a href="http://www.elephants.com/index.php"&gt;Elephant Sanctuary &lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-2380262122133668474?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/2380262122133668474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=2380262122133668474' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2380262122133668474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2380262122133668474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/08/lewis-natchez-avaleen-and-some-very.html' title='Lewis, Natchez, Avaleen, and some very good Junk.'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SpwYaR-_bUI/AAAAAAAAAGg/hvsGKv7C0nU/s72-c/Hohenwald+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-1033719353714337944</id><published>2009-08-25T15:00:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-27T09:22:48.917-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ruins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rock Formations'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><title type='text'>The Stone Monsters of Bomarzo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5480.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5480.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Late in the evening we arrived in the town of Bomarzo, a town of so many brown buildings, huddled upon a bluff overlook the Tennessee like landscape of the Tiber River. While it's possible that this small town's history may go back to the Roman era, being named as it is for the god Mars, the town's primary claim to fame comes from the 1500's and a man named Pier Francesco Orsini, whose fiefdom, this once was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orsini oversaw the construction of a park, filled with unusual and large sculptures, carved into existing limestone on site. Now, 500 years later, these sculptures are marked with time and rain, and moss has found a foothold on many. Despite being relatively recent in the scope of Italy's long history, the structures seem a part of the forest setting, and timeless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Known as Parco del Mostri, the Park of the Monsters, it is located somewhat off the beaten path. Through a small visitors center and cafe, a country lane leads down past chickens and cattle to the gated entrance. Beyond the gate lies a land of slightly grotesque fantasy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Down a short trail to the left is the toothy head of Proteus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5487.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5487.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back down the main path, a giant Hercules is rending Cacus in two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5491.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5491.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just past these are the more beautiful Pegasus, and behind it, the tortoise, the woman, and the whale. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5501.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5501.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beyond, you come to a house, not leaning with age as the Tower of Pisa, but built intentionally at a slant. It is known as the hanging house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5508.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5508.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nearby, there is a small courtyard, with several interesting carvings. At one end, an imposing Neptune presides over a mossy but empty font. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5513.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5513.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also near here, a war elephant conquers a Roman soldier, a giant sleeping beauty rests, and a wide eyed dragon fights lion and dog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5511.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5511.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5518.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5518.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5514.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5514.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But of all the interesting statues, by far the most striking is the ogre. This massive monster's mouth and eyes gape. The mouth forms a sizable doorway, and inside, in the dark, carved from the rock, are benches and a table, as cool and comfortable, and odd a place as you can have a picnic anywhere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5522.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5522.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5524.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5524.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-1033719353714337944?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/1033719353714337944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=1033719353714337944' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/1033719353714337944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/1033719353714337944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/08/stone-monsters-of-bomarzo.html' title='The Stone Monsters of Bomarzo'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-8610894999605423289</id><published>2009-08-20T15:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T13:24:59.791-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Waterfalls'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Zealand'/><title type='text'>The secret of the woods</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/New%20Zealand/0257bridalveilfallssideview.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 341px; height: 512px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/New%20Zealand/0257bridalveilfallssideview.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just south of Raglan New Zealand, off of Kawhia Road, and unassuming little parking lot is the gateway for an easy and beautiful trail that leads through a lush native podocarp forest to a picturesque waterfall, known as Bridal Veil falls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mostly level trail leads through a forest of tall trees, covered in a variety of epiphyts. The ground is a collage of fern, moss, and mouldering logs. The trail loosely follows a muddy brook to the edge of the fall's rim. A neatly fenced overlook lets you peer at the falls from the sideA short spur leads  to the left for a closer look at the top of the falls.&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/New%20Zealand/0267pathupfromthefalls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 227px; height: 341px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/New%20Zealand/0267pathupfromthefalls.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The main trail leads to the right, through a small cut in the earth, and then down again through the forest to the base of the falls. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bridal Veil Falls itself is a picture perfect beauty. The water falls in a high and narrow stream, into a small basin below. The walls around the falls are basalt, blackened with water. Well worth the short hike for both the plant life and the falls.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-8610894999605423289?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/8610894999605423289/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=8610894999605423289' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/8610894999605423289'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/8610894999605423289'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/08/secret-of-woods.html' title='The secret of the woods'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-8467426159706340515</id><published>2009-08-18T12:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T13:46:41.138-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ruins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Church'/><title type='text'>San Clemente: the church that runs deep</title><content type='html'>The Basilica San Clemente is a very good place to get a grip on just how deep Rome's roots run. Today stands a church built during the 12Th century. Marble and gold, this church gleams with the care it has been given. But travel into it's basement, and the change is immediate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beneath the present day church lies its former and grander self. Originally built during the 4Th century, this was once graced with colorful frescoes. Today, it is mostly bare, but many decorations are still detectable in a ruinous form. Destroyed by the Normans at the close of the 11Th century, it was filled in, and the new church built above it. Rediscovered in the 1800's, it has been excavated though not really restored. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the roots here are deeper still, for both of these churches rest upon the ruins of still older roman constructions. Here, there once stood the house of a early Christian convert, who held prayer in secret when Christians were still persecuted in Rome, also excavated are an alleyway, and another building, that served as a mithraeum. Here, at the deepest level, the smell of earth and water pervade the dark atmosphere. The sound of water too, penetrates, as there is an underground water flow even further down, beyond a grate. Through the grate can even be seen bricks which may have been foundations of homes that burned with the rest of Rome, earlier still. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both eerie and fascinating, San Clemente only serves as one example of many sites where ruins lie beneath. This city has been occupied for thousands of years, and over time, dirt has settled between Rome's seven hills and built up the ground. Eventually, the oldest of buildings, or what remains of them, have been covered over, and the city grew above them. The Eternal City has weathered the storms of time with such roots. What biblical depiction does the Basilica San Clemente bear in its apse? Christ on the Cross, and beneath him, the tree of life , spreading its branches into vines. The inscription beneath, in Latin reads: &lt;blockquote&gt;"We have likened the Church of Christ to this vine; the Law made it wither but the Cross made it bloom"&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having deep roots certainly helps.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-8467426159706340515?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/8467426159706340515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=8467426159706340515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/8467426159706340515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/8467426159706340515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/08/san-clemente-church-that-runs-deep.html' title='San Clemente: the church that runs deep'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-2930683228455006949</id><published>2009-08-17T12:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T12:12:51.248-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Please vote for me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SomPX3suzjI/AAAAAAAAAGY/9k2b2So3c3U/s1600-h/0371+going+into+ice+caves.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SomPX3suzjI/AAAAAAAAAGY/9k2b2So3c3U/s400/0371+going+into+ice+caves.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370981670867357234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a contest from Quark Expeditions with the wonderful opportunity for me to go to Antarctica. Check out my short blog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.blogyourwaytoantarctica.com/blogs/view/542"&gt;http://www.blogyourwaytoantarctica.com/blogs/view/542&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and please vote for me, so I can continue to bring you all tales of the wonderful world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-2930683228455006949?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/2930683228455006949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=2930683228455006949' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2930683228455006949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2930683228455006949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/08/please-vote-for-me.html' title='Please vote for me'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SomPX3suzjI/AAAAAAAAAGY/9k2b2So3c3U/s72-c/0371+going+into+ice+caves.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-5291957686369277556</id><published>2009-08-13T13:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T13:49:35.118-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ruins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='City'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><title type='text'>Il Colosseo</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5470.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 288px; height: 384px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5470.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not far from Circus Maximus is the Roman Coliseum, or Il Colosseo. Originally the name of a large statue that once stood in front, it now applies to the iconic largest of all Roman Amphitheatres. Designed much as modern sports arenas, the amphitheater had a wide outer wall, now mostly gone, which encircled inner hallways and stairways, which led to various levels of seating, all the way up to the long gone wooden nose bleed section. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5464.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5464.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What remains today, while still impressive in its own right, is but a ruinous shadow of the former structure. The marble, which once encased the structure was removed over the nearly 1500 years since it went into disuse. Earthquakes have reduced its height, and its outer wall. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5459.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5459.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The remaining structure is mostly the brick core. While the hypogeum below the Colosseum is not accessible, the upper levels can be explored. The original seating has been heavily eroded, and many areas are capped with concrete to prevent further damage. The white marble of the senators seating is still clearly visible among the red brick. They seemed to be reconstructing the arena floor during our visit, or possibly constructing a temporary stage. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5460.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5460.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This arena once saw not only gladiatorial fights, but plays, mock battles, and animal hunts. Like any public entertainment venue today, there were vendor stalls and public restrooms. It even had a retractable awning to protect the crowds from rain and bright sun. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Visible from the Colosseum's windows is the Arch of Constantine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5451.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5451.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5419.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5419.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5421.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5421.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In conjunction with our visit was an exhibit of Eros and Venus related sculpture and artwork. Amongst the work were several Grecian style black and tan urns that depicted explicit acts, which were surprising and interesting to see. But the statues were the really beautiful things, the others were just odd and interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5425.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5425.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5440.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5440.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5430.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5430.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5443.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5443.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5449.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5449.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-5291957686369277556?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/5291957686369277556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=5291957686369277556' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/5291957686369277556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/5291957686369277556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/08/il-colosseo.html' title='Il Colosseo'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-1213065162853874111</id><published>2009-08-11T16:49:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T09:43:39.259-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wyoming'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Medicine Wheels, Canyons, and Hot Springs - oh my!</title><content type='html'>After leaving Yellowstone, having been to Glacier, and Craters of the Moon, you could say the remaining days of out trip was a bit of a denouement. We headed east through Wyoming to the Big Horn Medicine Wheel. Despite the fact that a road stretches all the way to the wheel, which is set high atop a hill, up a steep and winding road, you must park about a mile from the wheel and walk the rest of the way. The medicine wheel is something like a simple Stonehenge. It has astronomically significant alignments, and was especially useful for marking the summer solstice. It consists of rows and circles of piled rocks, in the general shape of a wheel. The walk to it was steep, and there was a biting wind, but it was worth it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a barb wired fence around the wheel, and a path outside of the that you walk counter clockwise around, in respect for the traditional practice. Native Americans still hold ceremonies here, and many leave offerings tied to the fence, in the form of small brightly colored bundles of cloth, or braids of grass. Less traditional offering, such as bandannas, probably come from the few tourists who may actually find their way here. Another bonus for making the walk to the wheel was seeing picas, which are like teeny weenie bunny rabbit mice. They are cute beyond belief. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the Medicine Wheel, we went to the Bighorn Canyon National Recreation Area. This is a narrow canyon with a green river flowing in a tan hued landscape. There is not a lot of plant life here, but there are the namesake Bighorn, which have made a comeback in the area. There are also wild horses, and we saw a small family near the road on our way in. They are grayish with a black mane, and, if you look, they have horizontal black stripes across their legs in the back. This fascinated me, because it relates to some of Darwin's theories on evolution, about how when modern species or breeds intermix, you tend to see what are the most basic characteristics, and therefore the characteristic of the common ancestors. So here are stripes on a horse, when none of the parent horses would have had them, showing perhaps a trait that is dormant in them, but exemplified in the zebra. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then headed south toward Thermopolis. The plan had originally been to spend the remainder of the day hanging out at the free to the public hot spring/baths here, but after my visit to Yellowstone and learning about all the nasty extremophile disease causing bacteria that live in hot springs, I'm afraid I lost interest. So we headed instead towards our destination for the next day, which was Fossil Butte National Monument. We got as far a Kemmerer before stopping for the night. It also happened to be the home of James "Cash" Penney, who started the now national chain right here in this little town.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-1213065162853874111?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/1213065162853874111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=1213065162853874111' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/1213065162853874111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/1213065162853874111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/08/medicine-wheels-canyons-and-hot-springs.html' title='Medicine Wheels, Canyons, and Hot Springs - oh my!'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-5675602602768462731</id><published>2009-08-06T14:05:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T14:16:34.253-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ruins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><title type='text'>The best laid plans, Not the Day in Rome We Expected</title><content type='html'>By the time we arrived in Rome, after debarking the ferry in Civitavecchia, we were running late. Late is not a good thing, when you are hoping to visit the Vatican Museum. This museum is extremely popular, and operates under very limited hours, resulting in impressively long lines and wait times, especially for those who are not with a tour group. We reached the walls of Vatican City, and saw the line stretching, far, far from the door. So we decided to visit other destinations on our itinerary instead, and hope to make it to the museum earlier when we returned to Rome for the last few days of our trip. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, we headed over to Santa Maria Cosmedin. This church, while probably worth a visit in it's own right, wasn't our actual destination, just the center of a couple of things we did want to see. For starters, just near this church is the Circus Maximus. Normally, this isn't too much to look at. All that remains of the once impressive large arena is an oblong field with a mound running down the center. We passed by it a few times both on the first day we landed in Italy, and in the final few days before we left, but it was on this day, during the middle of our trip, that it was decorated with strange white globes, which weren't present before or after. Upon our return, we discovered that this was created by Giancarlo Neri, called Maximo Silencio. At night, the globes glowed and shifted colors. There are several nice videos that can be found through google. It really was interesting, and I wish I'd have been around at night to see the actual display. Here is a link to a good &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZPdiagIiYY"&gt;summary video&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5412.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5412.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Underneath a portico of the church is a large disk bearing a face. Some say it was a fountain, or perhaps a manhole cover. His eyes and mouth are simply holes, and it is known as Bocca Della Verita: the mouth of truth. It was featured prominently in Audrey Hepburn's Roman Holiday. So it goes that if you put your hand into it's mouth, and tell a lie, it will bite off your hand. I didn't test it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5411.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5411.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just across the street from the church are to remains of Forum Boarium, where in Roman times, cattle were sold. What remains today are two temples. One consisting of a circle of columns known as the Temple of Hercules Victor, the other, a rectangular structure is the Temple of Portunus. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5415.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5415.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-5675602602768462731?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/5675602602768462731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=5675602602768462731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/5675602602768462731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/5675602602768462731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/08/best-laid-plans-not-day-in-rome-we.html' title='The best laid plans, Not the Day in Rome We Expected'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-9166848875842716956</id><published>2009-08-04T15:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T15:00:01.740-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='National Park'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Wyoming'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>Yellowstone Exodus</title><content type='html'>After staying the night in the fabulous Old Faithful Inn, we packed our bags, and headed to the hotel's restaurant for breakfast. We ordered the buffet, which came with juice and a hot chocolate for each of us, but we had to specifically ask our waiter to bring the hot chocolate, since he did not offer to do so. The hot chocolate was VERY GOOD, but Jake spilled his before even taking a sip, which was a real tragedy, especially because they didn't offer to bring us a replacement. We were put off by the poor service, though the food was very good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that we went out for a walk along the boardwalk the led out and around the many geysers in this area. We spent some time hanging around Old Faithful to see if it would go, but got tired of waiting and continued up the trail. We arrived at the Grand Geyser and I began reading the information about it. It is the tallest predictable geyser know. It's much larger than old faithful. it erupts about twice daily. Before it erupts, it begins to churn/bubble strongly. As I read all this, the pool in front of us began to churn. I thought, OK, some geysers do that for hours before an eruption. Then it said, "moments later the geyser erupts" So I'm like hey Jake, it's about to go, and there it went. There were several volunteers who document the geysers, and all remarked on what a good show it was putting on. According wikipedia, it gets as much as 200ft tall. It went on for several minutes, and when it finally died down we wandered further up the trail. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We then walked to the morning glory pool, and as we were headed back down the boardwalk there, we noticed a large lone male buffalo drinking from the opposite side of a stream, no more than 40 yards away; this was during breeding season, when males were feeling especially aggressive, too. Well, we stopped along the trail, confident that we were too far out of range to bother him, and watched. A young woman, who had not been reading the signs about saying on the boardwalks, and not harassing the animals, thought that the 15 foot wide stream was enough of a buffer, and left the trail, and cut through some trees to get a much closer and unobstructed view, and began taking pictures. The buffalo, which obviously felt threatened, stopped drinking and gave her a long look. At which point she smartly backed off, but only about 5 feet, until the buffalo returned to his drink. Realizing that she wasn't moving off, the buffalo then crossed the stream, and ambled casually towards her. She, smartly headed back for the boardwalk, and up towards the morning glory pool. Jake and I stayed still to avoid the buffalo's notice while he stood squarely upon the boardwalk and gazed about. Finally, satisfied that he had made his point that he was VERY LARGE, he continued on his way, up into the forest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We continued our walk and saw lots of other geysers in various stages of activity, when we suddenly realized it was nearly checkout time at the hotel. It was again near time for Old Faithful, so I reserved us some seats while Jake went to get our luggage from the room and check us out. He returned in time for us to watch the geyser, which really isn't anything like as spectacular as the large ones we'd already seen, and in addition to that, the boardwalk is much further away that it is from other geysers, still as probably the most famous geyser in the world, it's a must to see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the Old Faithful area, we headed south to West Thumb, then turned east along the norther edge of Yellowstone Lake, finally turning north at Lake Village and cutting through Hayden Valley, which is the place to see buffalo, and wolves possibly. While we saw none of the latter, we got a fairly close encounter with the former. Along the way we saw 2 males butting heads, and further on We noticed a small group of buffalo coming towards the road. 2 females, 1 calf, and a large bull, who was pawing the ground as he came, stirring up dust and grunting. We had pulled into a parking area, but stayed in the car doorways in case he should head our way. This group crossed the road a little behind us and caused a traffic jam. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The main problem was one car. The car would creep up an inch on the buffalo every time it got the chance, and every time, the male would stop and turn and lower his head towards the car. You'd think that driver would have learned to stay still, but he just kept doing it, and managed to make the buffalo pretty angry. He even made a move to headbutt the grill at one point, but stopped short, and finally moved his family off the road. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun was setting, and we still had quite a ways to go to leave the park. After darkness had set in, we encountered still more buffalo, having to creep our way through the dark night to avoid a collision with a movable wall. Finally, we exited the park at the north east entrance, and pulled over to sleep at the first shoulder wide enough for our car, completely exhausted, but very satisfied.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-9166848875842716956?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/9166848875842716956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=9166848875842716956' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/9166848875842716956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/9166848875842716956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/08/yellowstone-exodus.html' title='Yellowstone Exodus'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-8481331586415860852</id><published>2009-07-30T12:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T12:05:38.107-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Beach'/><title type='text'>Moments like this</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5331.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 800px; height: 600px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5331.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere south of the port city of Olbia, in the island of Sardenia, we sought the beach. We had some time. If I had to guess, it was just north of Tanaunela. We had yet to really stick our feet into the Mediterranean. Technically, this was the Tyrrhenean Sea. Oddly, Italy little touches the Mediterranean itself, being mostly surrounded by the Tyrrhenean, Adriatic, and Ionian seas. Still, the waters wash the same, and we were looking for a little break. We parked in the lot for a somewhat busy beach, and headed down a nearby rocky shore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cumulus clouds the size of the island, if not the world were floating in the afternoon light. The water was blue, but full of shadows. And there was a man singing. His skin was tan, his head balding and somewhat grey. He was neither thin nor fat, but had the muscular body of old aged men under loose skin. This was readily apparent because, as European men will, he was wearing a speedo. Tied around the fabric of his left hip, and weighing the speedo down uncomfortably, was a yellow plastic grocery bag. He went along, shin deep in the water, pocket knife in his right hand, scanning the barnacle covered rocks, prying away mussels, adding them to the bag, singing, in that same strong but worn voice that you could see in the skin and muscle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came from up the coast, passed us, down towards the swimmers and gone. Along the way, a man with a long rod and a long line fished. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where I go, I see many great things. Ruins and Museums, Mountains and Rivers. And they teach me my geography and history better than any book ever has. And there is value in that. But it is moments like this when you find the unexpected, common thing in far places that makes the weary standing, walking, driving, flying of travel well, well worth it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5339.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 800px; height: 600px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5339.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-8481331586415860852?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/8481331586415860852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=8481331586415860852' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/8481331586415860852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/8481331586415860852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/07/moments-like-this.html' title='Moments like this'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-2325220836739756521</id><published>2009-07-28T15:00:00.025-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T13:37:34.273-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Zealand'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Animals'/><title type='text'>In the House of the Flightless Bird</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9Z66GRA_I/AAAAAAAAAFo/YApxlE3q97o/s1600-h/0163+Otorohanga+Kiwi+House.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9Z66GRA_I/AAAAAAAAAFo/YApxlE3q97o/s400/0163+Otorohanga+Kiwi+House.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363604549784372210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; New Zealand has a unique set of fauna, and, since many species are rare, to fully appreciate them, we decided to pay a visit to the Otorohanga Kiwi House. The kiwi house has kiwi statue outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They Kiwi house has a large collection of almost all birds, they being the only large fauna to be found on the island.  But the do also have a few other animals mixed in. There are no mammals, because New Zealand does not have any native mammals, not even marsupials. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They do have tataras.  A tatara is a relatively primitive reptile, related to dinosaurs, though it does resemble modern day lizards. They also&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9Z73-1P9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/_sKLA1rwQGk/s1600-h/0203+gecko.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9Z73-1P9I/AAAAAAAAAGA/_sKLA1rwQGk/s400/0203+gecko.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363604566396190674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  have geckos on display, and a small pool with eels in it. Like salmon, these eels go to sea when young, and return to their birth rivers to spawn. They are in many of the fresh water streams and creeks in New Zealand. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9Z7P40SJI/AAAAAAAAAFw/yUOZPwL94aU/s1600-h/0164+tatara.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 234px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9Z7P40SJI/AAAAAAAAAFw/yUOZPwL94aU/s400/0164+tatara.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363604555633543314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9Z7bVKFJI/AAAAAAAAAF4/zCHlpil6dZs/s1600-h/0190+bathing+pukeko.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 350px; height: 234px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9Z7bVKFJI/AAAAAAAAAF4/zCHlpil6dZs/s400/0190+bathing+pukeko.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363604558705202322" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Among the birds, they have many species common in New Zealand, such as paradise ducks, grey ducks, oyster catchers, and the colorful pukeko, which can often be seen near roads and in fields. &lt;br /&gt;They also had the islands' two parrots, the kaka and kea, and native parakeets, as well as the surprisingly large New Zealand Pigeon, a food source for the Maori. They also have the Weka, another flightless bird. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9Z8XaTrXI/AAAAAAAAAGI/3bAMEjNvT60/s1600-h/0209+kea.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9Z8XaTrXI/AAAAAAAAAGI/3bAMEjNvT60/s400/0209+kea.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363604574832930162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the name might suggest, the Kiwi House does house kiwi, in a dark, red light lit room so that visitors can see them when they are active, because kiwi are nocturnal. Here they have two kiwis on display, though they keep them separated because they are capable of hurting each other with their long thin beaks.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9aWiV-SKI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/lqbnRh_rnlk/s1600-h/0229+ferns+and+redwoods.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9aWiV-SKI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/lqbnRh_rnlk/s400/0229+ferns+and+redwoods.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5363605024444139682" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Sharing the airspace over both areas is a morepork, a small native owl. The kiwis run on thick muscles legs, like larger farm chickens. They hunt in the leaf litter of their enclosure, prodding with their beak looking for whatever worms or insects they might find. We were there for feeding time, and they were fed from a plastic cup with a mixture of fruits oats and worms. The hungriest of the pair simply fished around for a worm and slurped it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we leave, we take a walk through the aviary, where pigeons fly clumsily, tataras lurk, and quail nest under unfurling fern trees. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just across from the park is a small park established by Otorohanga's Rotary Club. Here grow redwoods that were germinated from seeds send by a Rotary Club in California. The trees were planted in 1971, and so are fewer than 40 years old, and already very tall. This is a pretty little spot and as it's so close by it's worth the visit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-2325220836739756521?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/2325220836739756521/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=2325220836739756521' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2325220836739756521'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/2325220836739756521'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/07/kiwi-house.html' title='In the House of the Flightless Bird'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/Sm9Z66GRA_I/AAAAAAAAAFo/YApxlE3q97o/s72-c/0163+Otorohanga+Kiwi+House.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-6997441717922850185</id><published>2009-07-23T12:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T12:00:18.275-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Museum'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Ruins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><title type='text'>The Nuraghes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5299.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5299.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The island of Sardenia shelters numerous ruins from a culture that existed 3000 years ago. These people built monolithic stone towers and cities, worked in bronze, and left behind little other evidence of their culture or history. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cagliari is the capital of this island region of Italy. Within the city lies the local National Archaeological Museum, which has, among Roman and Phoenician finds, a curious collection of small Nuraghic bronze sculpted figurines. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heading north across the island, through green forests and cork tree farms, we came across our first run in with the law. Two policemen were parked on the side of the road, waving traffic to the shoulder. Well, really, we were the only car around. They were dressed in almost comical uniforms, with buttoned up jackets, belt, and brimmed hat. One held a very small stop sign on a 2 foot long white stick. But we didn't dare laugh, since the other held an assault rifle. Neither spoke the others language, so we gave them our passports and wondered if we had been speeding. They checked our info, conferring on the hood of their car about it, returned it to us, and waved us on. This would be the first of 3 times we would be pulled over in such a random check. What they were looking for, I am not sure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally we arrived at Su Nuraxi. Of the 8,000 or so remnants of Nuraghes this is one of the best preserved and most complex examples, earning it a spot as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Here, thousands of years ago, the initial tower was built on a low hill, presumably to control passage through the area or for defensive purposes. Over the centuries, additional ringed fortifications were built, and the area developed into a small village or city. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5300.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A tour leads through the circular stone foundations of homes, shops, and some fortifications, before leading into the most central nuraghe. Here, large stones are stacked, without mortar, and doorways a capped with longer stones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5318.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5318.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The walls are built in double layers, with the interior filled with dirt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5309.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5309.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5329.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5329.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the rooms and passageways, no light enters save through the primitive doors and windows, and sometimes holes left at the apex of conical roofs. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5322.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5322.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The interior is a open courtyard of sorts, though, being narrow amongst high walls, it is dim and cool. The rocks, as in the &lt;a href="http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2008/04/wall.html"&gt;old wall above Arpino&lt;/a&gt;, are large. The structure seems incredibly primitive, but it has proven to last the centuries. Our tour, sadly, was in Italian. There are not many foreign tourists here. This place is secret. Quiet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-6997441717922850185?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/6997441717922850185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=6997441717922850185' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/6997441717922850185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/6997441717922850185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/07/nuraghes.html' title='The Nuraghes'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-7760565813887399245</id><published>2009-07-21T12:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-21T13:00:12.408-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Rafting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='New Zealand'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Entertainment'/><title type='text'>Falls and Jet</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmX9i5nWAFI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/MjBl5OBrDWM/s1600-h/0144+huka+falls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmX9i5nWAFI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/MjBl5OBrDWM/s400/0144+huka+falls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360969707477663826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The water from Lake Taupo flows out via the Waikato river. One section of this river narrows to form Huka falls. The falls are not very tall. In fact, the water flowing over the falls almost hides them. But the water is a churning froth. This is beyond white water. Even above the falls, the water churns, and is a strange pale blue, marbled with white. Where it gushes over Huka Falls into the large and suddenly wide river below, The water bubbles up solid white for dozens of yards. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmX9idb0JII/AAAAAAAAAFI/sY5vVMu7UIc/s1600-h/0146+the+rapids+above+the+falls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmX9idb0JII/AAAAAAAAAFI/sY5vVMu7UIc/s400/0146+the+rapids+above+the+falls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360969699913114754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmX9h7Dm63I/AAAAAAAAAE4/FvCvzkfeCas/s1600-h/0135+just+before+huka+falls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmX9h7Dm63I/AAAAAAAAAE4/FvCvzkfeCas/s400/0135+just+before+huka+falls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360969690684779378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmX9iBzSRHI/AAAAAAAAAFA/S7cRNkhYUGQ/s1600-h/0137+looking+towards+huka+falls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmX9iBzSRHI/AAAAAAAAAFA/S7cRNkhYUGQ/s400/0137+looking+towards+huka+falls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360969692495365234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We arrived at the falls overlook, early in the morning. we had the short walk along the narrow stretch of river to ourselves. After we had taken many pictures, none of which look quite real, we headed to &lt;a href="http://www.hukafallsjet.com/page/5-Home"&gt;hukafalls Jet&lt;/a&gt; to get a different perspective of the falls. &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmX9jC-f5-I/AAAAAAAAAFY/0T0xebE7aTY/s1600-h/0157+spidey+neo+jake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:right;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmX9jC-f5-I/AAAAAAAAAFY/0T0xebE7aTY/s400/0157+spidey+neo+jake.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360969709990701026" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After suiting up in a rain jacket and life vest that would have made both Neo and Superman proud, we loaded into the boat, Jake and I taking front row seats. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding in the boat felt like gliding on ice, as our pilot fishtailed the boat along the banks, in and out of tree stumps and small islands, and under the wings of escaping black swans. On the open water, he cut the wheel, and whoo! partially airborne 360! splash! We headed downstream for a bit, then turned and headed up for the falls. Many "close calls" with the river banks, and spins later, we arrived near the foot of the falls. We could go no further. That white boil of water was more air than H2O, and boats only float on water. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmYBxqRPyAI/AAAAAAAAAFg/GMQc5qKg0y8/s1600-h/0162+huka+falls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmYBxqRPyAI/AAAAAAAAAFg/GMQc5qKg0y8/s400/0162+huka+falls.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5360974359102998530" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-7760565813887399245?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/7760565813887399245/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=7760565813887399245' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/7760565813887399245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/7760565813887399245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/07/falls-and-jet.html' title='Falls and Jet'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h2Rxdf9jbIQ/SmX9i5nWAFI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/MjBl5OBrDWM/s72-c/0144+huka+falls.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35073015.post-4846188803004860937</id><published>2009-07-16T13:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-16T13:15:42.618-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Italy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Historical Site'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Church'/><title type='text'>Monreale Duomo and San Giovanni degli Eremiti</title><content type='html'>Just outside of Palermo is the town of Monreale. Here, the Monreale Duomo presides over an earthen colored city. Built by the grandson of the man responsible for Palermo's Cappella Palatina, this church outmatches it in sheer size as well as grandeur. Like the Capella Palatina, it has mixed Norman and Arabian influences. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5256.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From the exterior, the church is beautiful, but blends into the buildings around it. Walking through its doors, however, brings about such a change. Sunlight streams in through an arched window at the back of the church and sets the golden mosaiced walls dancing with light. The light fades towards the front of the church, where even more impressive mosaics lay somewhat in shadow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5248.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5248.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the very front of the church was a huge representation of Christ &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christ_Pantocrator"&gt;Christ Pantocrator&lt;/a&gt;. This church, while perhaps not a particularly familiar name, is thought by many to only be outdone by the better known Hagia Sophia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5259.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5259.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From near the rear of the church, it is possible to climb, for a small fee, into the tower. After climbing some stairs, you work your way down a shoulder wide passageway overlooking the cloister courtyard below. Keep your eye out for a palm sized hole in a wood panel to your left. Here you can peer out into the church from among the rafters. Eventually, the passage opens onto a catwalk across the eave of the church's tile roof, affording a better view of the well manicured courtyard below. Then briefly through another narrow passage and up a few more stairs, and you will arrive near the pinnacle of one of the churches towers, affording a look away towards Palermo and the sea. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5272.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 768px; height: 576px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5272.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cloisters themselves can be accessed by leaving the church and heading around to a separate entrance. There is an additional fee to visit them as well. The main attraction here is that each and every column in the colonnade around the cloister is uniquely carved. We were fortunate enough to arrive at a time of day when the lighting showed these differences in shadow and light. We opted to settle for the view from the doorway, and followed our stomachs across the street to a sort of convenience store hybridized with a cafe. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5287.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5287.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After what sadly turned out to be Italian microwaved dinners, we headed back towards Palermo to visit San Giovanni degli Eremiti. This church turned mosque turned church again has a solidly middle eastern exterior, which was unfortunately, all we were able to see. Because the church was undergoing major renovations, we were not able to visit it. Instead, we climbed a nearby tower with a guide, who pointed out the prominent red domes, as well as several other prominent buildings throughout Palermo. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5236.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 576px; height: 768px;" src="http://i165.photobucket.com/albums/u63/hippie1427/Tour%20of%20Italy/100_5236.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, we were finished with Sicily, and headed next towards the Island of Sardenia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/35073015-4846188803004860937?l=theworldupclose.blogspot.com'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/feeds/4846188803004860937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=35073015&amp;postID=4846188803004860937' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/4846188803004860937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/35073015/posts/default/4846188803004860937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldupclose.blogspot.com/2009/07/monreale-duomo-and-san-giovanni-degli.html' title='Monreale Duomo and San Giovanni degli Eremiti'/><author><name>Clotho</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12668291513389384494</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='08732964982849601312'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry></feed>