And ten in Portugal with Michael

Following on from my last Six word Saturday, my feet have just about touched the ground and it’s Michael’s turn for a holiday.  Lucky me gets to go too, of course!

Dad is still in Poland, sitting in Uncle Jakub’s garden if it’s sunny, and playing dominos.  While I know he’s in good hands, it seems like a good time to escape for a little sunshine of our own.  If you’ve seen O is for okropny and the Ojcow Valley you’ll know the weather wasn’t always kind in Poland.

I’ll be sharing more Polish tales on my return but for now it’s back to my postcard collection.

Exactly why I love the Algarve so- it’s pretty as a picture.

I’ll soon be strolling in the riverbank gardens again.

Checking out a few more churches

Especially the azulejos in Igreja da Misericordia

And you know most of my evenings will be spent beside this bridge.

Not hard to see what keeps taking me back, is it?  And I haven’t even mentioned the beaches!

I’m catching up with as many of you as I can before I leave tomorrow evening.  It’s Mother’s Day isn’t it, so have a good one!  I’ll be frantically cooking, ironing and restocking the freezer for our son, but what a lovely present tomorrow evening will bring.  Take care, all!

Thanks Cath for hosting Six word Saturday.  Don’t forget to check out the other entries on Show My Face.  Just click on the header or the link.

The cosmopolitan city of Kraków is a million miles away from the river gorge of the Ojców Valley in time, but just 25km in distance.

I arrived in Kraków expecting the beautiful Spring weather I had experienced in previous years, but it was not to be.  Okropny- the Polish word for “terrible”- described it very well.  Mizzle accompanied grey skies, followed by crashing thunderstorms and heavy rain.  Still, nic nie szkodzi, as they say in Poland.  It “doesn’t really matter”, when you’re with family and friends.  Polish hospitality is, quite rightly, legendary.

Along with all the eating and drinking a little fresh air was called for, so out came the umbrellas.  A short drive north west of the city brought us to the village of Ojców and a different world.

The castle ruins at Ojców

Looming over the village, the castle ruins keep a beady eye on the end of the Eagles Nest Trail, a line of defence once stretching north to Częstochowa.  Today most of the action in the valley comes from walkers.  Armed with our umbrellas, we ventured along the woodland trail.

Limestone cliffs line the narrow banks of the River Prądnik, with greenery clinging tenaciously to every crevice.

Limestone cliffs line the valley

Ojców straggles through the valley.  Signs for noclegi, a room for the night, or longer, adorn many of the wooden houses.

A typical village house

The cliffs tower protectively behind the homes

Even in the swirling mists there’s a grandeur to the scenery.  We walk as far as Brama, named for the imposing rock structure which forms a “gate” through the valley.

Brama- the gate

The gorge is home to bats and caves, the best known of which is Łokieta, and is open for guided visits in Summer.  The valley is rich in flora and fauna.

Just a few of the species found in the valley

I, meantime, am being eyed wickedly by a horse whose temperament seems to suit the weather.  Horse and traps cover the short distance from Ojców to the beginning of the trail, for those who don’t like to walk, or just enjoy a ride.  To be fair, it can’t have been much fun being a horse that day.

A “not so friendly” horse

We retrace our steps beside the gurgling river to Kaplicza na Wodzie, a small wooden chapel.  It straddles the river on a platform, nicely side-stepping a 19th century Tsarist edict forbidding religious structures to be built “on solid ground”.  In Poland, the Catholic Church was never easy to subdue.

The river passing through Ojców

Kapliczka na Wodzie

The chapel history

On a better day you can walk the 9km from Ojców to Pieskowa Skała, but a heavy shower had us dashing for the car.  Perched on a wonderful vantage point, the castle at Pieskowa Skała dates from the 14th century, but was rebuilt in the 1580s as an elegant Renaissance residence.  It has a delicately arcaded courtyard, as does Wawel Castle in Kraków, and pretty gardens.  There’s a history museum and the  restaurant is set into the castle walls.  A climb up the circular steps to the roof terrace of the restaurant will give you fine views.

The castle at Pieskowa Skała

Italianate gardens

Weronika and her fiance, who were kind enough to take me.

Olsztyn Castle is nearer to Częstochowa, at the other end of the Eagles Nest Trail, but that’s an “O” to save for another day!  I owe thanks to Julie Dawn Fox for the idea that inspired My Personal A-Z of Poland.  The subjects have become very diverse so do go and have a look around.

I’m going to do something now that I wouldn’t normally do.  Anyone who reads me regularly will know that a few weeks ago, I included an enquiry about Jake of Jakesprinter in a blog post.  I’m delighted to find tonight that he’s back with a stunning new Sunday Post on the subject of Attractions.  This post links perfectly to that and I am very pressed for time, so I’m linking the two.  Welcome back, Jake! 

Meantime I have 101 jobs to do since my return.  I apologise for the quality of the photos, but you’ll be glad to know that after 3 days of okropny weather, we found some sunshine.

]]> http://restlessjo.wordpress.com/2013/05/10/o-is-for-okropny-and-the-ojcow-valley/feed/ 48 0.000000 0.000000 0.000000 0.000000 restlessjo Poland-eagle-150square The castle ruins at Ojców Limestone cliffs line the valley A typical village house The cliffs tower protectively behind the homes Brama- the gate Just a few of the species found in the valley A "not so friendly" horse The river passing through Ojców Kapliczka na Wodzie The chapel history The castle at Pieskowa Skała Italianate gardens Weronika and her fiance, who were kind enough to take me. banner4 http://restlessjo.wordpress.com/2013/04/29/best-moment-award/ http://restlessjo.wordpress.com/2013/04/29/best-moment-award/#comments Mon, 29 Apr 2013 07:15:32 +0000 restlessjo http://restlessjo.wordpress.com/?p=4605 Continue reading »

Awarding the people who live in the moment,
The noble who write and capture the best in life,
The bold who reminded us what really mattered -
Savoring the experience of quality time.

I am absolutely determined (well, a little bit anyway) to clear all my “unfinished business” before I go to Poland.  What do I find, loitering in my Inbox, but a Best Moment Award.  It’s a pleasing shape, isn’t it?  Reminds me just a bit of Rafa’s Barcelona Trophy, but not quite so heavy.

No, I wasn’t there! I very naughtily pinched this image from Zee News. Apologies.

Moment Matters were kind enough to bequeath me this award, and then, just the other day, lovely Letizia of Dutch goes Italian nominated me again.

I misunderstood initially.  I didn’t read the verse properly and had it fixed in my head that this was about a “best moment”.  How to choose?  So many best moments!  And maybe, if I’m lucky, some best moments still to come.

Those incredible blue doors always bring back a magic moment

This one conjures a blogging friendship and a freezing day

How many times have I looked back at this wonderful moment

Shared golden moments in Warsaw’s Stare Miasto

And a truly amazing moment at the Festa dos Tabuleiros in Tomar

Haven’t we shared some beautiful moments, at home and abroad?

A very special wedding

And some wonderful sunsets

We’ve danced and we’ve sang

And made wonderful memories

But now it’s time to return to Poland

Where I hope to be making more beautiful moments to share.  Thank you for indulging me.  I’m going to pass on this award to some folk who have shared best moments with me.

The world according to Dina

Gallivance

East of Malaga

Writing between the lines

Photography of Nia

Going Dutch

I’ll be back in a week or so, but then I’m going to the Algarve, so all will be peaceful for a while.  Enjoy!

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Nine days in Poland with Dad

It almost didn’t happen because when I started to check us in online, I realised that Dad’s passport runs out on 30th April, 2013- the precise date we travel to Poland.  Thank goodness for the days of online check-in.  Otherwise, we might have been at the airport!  A swift dash to the Passport Office in Durham has rectified all, and we are good to go.

Here was Krakow

Veit Stoss Altar, Mariacki Church

Gilded wood panels of the Altar in close up

Courtyard of the Jagellonian University

Professor’s room in Collegium Maius

And in complete contrast, a postcard that is very special to me, and seems appropriate for this time of year.  It was given to me by my Aunt Anna, who is no longer with us.

Good health from the mountains

I won’t be about next week as I’m a very low tech traveller.  In any case I will be working hard at my abysmal Polish.  Wish me luck!

Don’t forget to visit Cate at Show My Face at check out this week’s Six word Saturdays.  Just click on the link or the header.

The sun is sparkling. the cherry blossom has finally arrived and once again I’ve received a big hug from my lovely world of bloggers.  Doesn’t that sound to you like the perfect day?

If I dip back into my blogging past, I will find countless kind and heartwarming comments from Sonel, and that’s really what this award is all about.  Simply extending the hand of friendship. Sonel loves the natural world and her superb photography reflects this.  May I simply say thank you Sonel, for this award and for your friendship, with a small gallery of Spring flowers?

You’ll be glad to know that there are no complicated rules to accepting the award, which makes it quick and easy to pass on.  I don’t even have to tell you how I can stand on one leg while playing the piano and juggling eggs at the same time. (but I will, if you want)

All I do is nominate 10 people who’ve made my blogging world a delight, link back to them of course, and don’t forget to tell them.

Dear Bliary 

There isn’t a kinder heart in the blogging world than Gemma’s, so many thanks Gem.

My guilty pleasures

I can hardly imagine life without Viveka- can you?

Francine in Retirement

Appreciation, of all things in life gifted from God, is this lady’s middle name.

Thirdeyemom

Nicole wanders the world trying to do her very best to make it a better place.

The Urge to Wander

Warmth, encouragement, and understanding, coupled with gifted photography and prose- Madhu doesn’t stint on any of these.

Lost in Translation

I was awfully slow to realise what this lady does for a living, but Paula simply smiled, and acknowledged the friendship. 

The world is a book

Amy is yet another warm, encouraging lady, who puts enormous thought and effort into her blog.

Another day in paradise

Ad, Sylvia that is, makes me laugh.  What can be better than that?

Dadirridreaming

Christine has a dream of a kinder world.  Her posts are always gentle and nurturing.

This man’s journey

Is there a more hard-working, inspirational man in the blogging world?  If there is, I don’t know him.

Lorna’s Tearoom Delights

Lorna, I don’t like to cook, hate tea, and food I can take or leave (within reason) but you’ve been a constant source of pleasure.

A Nomad in the land of Nizwa (Catbird in Oman)

Cath is here, there and everywhere, determined to live life to its very fullest.  I respect and admire her efforts.

I don’t think I can count, and as usual, now that I’ve started I could go on and on….  The full “rules” are on Sonel’s Corner.  I’d better set about complying.  Have a good weekend all.

The beach at Georgiopoulos

So here it is- the final instalment!  I have so enjoyed sharing these memories with you, but I’m sure I’ve been wearing my rose tinted spectacles.

I remember vividly going into work on returning from Crete.  “How was it?  Did you see the rats?  We daren’t tell you before you went, in case it spoiled your holiday.”  I didn’t (thankfully), but was treated to lurid tales of them being rampant in Rethymnon harbour, and running over somebody’s foot!  I didn’t see a one, and neither did my normally very observant partner. (I hope!)

Rethymnon harbour and lighthouse

In spite of loving the Greek Islands, it had taken us a while to return.  You see, I’m fickle and the love affair with Italy had begun. Our small person loved pasta and Del Piero (a footballer with Juventus), and those were the days when he delighted in cheap copies of his hero’s shirt- now long gone!  But that’s a tale for another series.  Well, maybe.

Still, I hadn’t gotten Greece entirely out of my system (to this day!) and the Summer of 2000 saw us back there.  I had thought long and hard about our base, and was more than happy with Rethymnon.  The old town was almost entirely built by the Venetians, as was the Fortezza, one of the best preserved castles on Crete.  There was so much character, and the atmosphere in the harbour was wonderful, especially by night.

My favourite harbourside cafe

Cafe Soldini, or Spiro’s place as we tended to know it, was a favoured spot.  The waiters were attentive but joked among themselves, constantly having fun, even in the considerable heat.  Who knows if it’s there still!

With just two weeks, I had a full itinerary.  Holidays with me are never purely restful.  So, off we went, bus hopping to Chania, a lovely mix of Venetian and Ottoman influences.  Well, yes, touristy, but so pretty, that you could see why.  The discovery that you could still buy cheap footie shirts in Chania made the place barely just tolerable by James’ standards.  Oh, and the mega chocolate icecream sundaes in the harbourside cafes!

Did you ever see a more elegant creature?

The lovely harbour at Chania

A coach trip next, to view some of the superb Cretan landscape.  It being the largest of the Greek Islands, I knew I could only skim the surface.  Perhaps climb the heights is a better description because Crete has no shortage of mountains.  Heading west to Vryses (meaning fountains) it was up and over the green plateau, skirting the Imbros Gorge.  Wildflowers speckled the green carpet, while overhead hawks and eagles patrolled the skies.

Dropping slowly down to the coast, Frangokastello awaited.  A ruined castle, solid and square in yellow stone, sat almost upon the beach.  Beyond lay the pearliest of blues, shallow water, and I had my first ever paddle in the Libyan Sea.  Never have I been so reluctant to return to a coach, but it was on to nearby Sfakia and the “restored” castle in miniature.

Refreshments at Sfakia

When we alighted at Plakias I wanted to do a Shirley Valentine.  Michael had an urgent mission to find batteries for the camera, so I daydreamed a while.

Plakias looks across a lovely bay

The way home took us through the Clapping Gorge, named for the sound of the wind echoing through it.  Not many people left the coach to descend the endless steps to the chapel and springs, but… well, you know I just had to.  And the following day when the boys opted to laze by the pool, I signed up to join a walking tour.

A morning stroll, I described it to Michael.  Wrong!  It turned out to be a 2 hour hike, lunch in a taverna, then back again, via a monastery.  I had dressed in trousers, determined not to be inappropriately dressed again, and I was soon melting.  Shade, some water and a Greek coffee were much appreciated, served by smiling nuns, whose home was still being restored.  I had little money with me, but bought a small paperweight to contribute to the building fund.

The path continued beneath beautiful cliffs, alight with yellow gorse.  I didn’t have a mobile phone, so couldn’t let Michael know that my stroll was in fact a day out!  Despite a mild sense of guilt I was enjoying myself enormously.  Our guide, Raoul, was highly informative, and the wine flowed when we stopped for lunch.  Raoul looked every inch the proud Cretan, but I’d got that wrong too.  When he couldn’t remember the Greek word for cucumber, it transpired that he was in fact a German ex-pat.

Eventually I arrived back at the pool, more than happy to flop into the water.  Michael got his own back because that evening we were Greek dancing.

Oh, my aching feet!

The one thing we absolutely had to do on our trip to Crete was to visit the palace of Knossos, archaelogical site of the Minoan civilisation.  The legend of the Minotaur and the fact that the Minoans were decimated by the volcanic eruption of Santorini in 1420 I found fascinating.  There are many details in my link to Wikipedia.

Reconstructed palace remains at Knossos

The frescoes

Such lovely colours

The other “must” was to walk the Samaria Gorge.  James was old enough to quite enjoy the challenge, and it felt quite an exciting thing to do.  An early start took us across the island to Sfakia on the south coast to embark.

Boarding for the Samaria Gorge

The approach to the gorge

Landing!

Through the mighty Gorge

The River Tara running along the bottom of the Gorge makes it a magical place.  Frequently you hop across the river on wooden log bridges, or strategically placed stones. Drinking lots of water is a must.  Despite the people passing through, nature is fully in control in this gorge.

Can’t go to Greece without meeting a goat or two

Or a reminder of the hard battles fought here

I didn’t realise when I started this post how long it would be.  I did say it was a big island, and I did my best to cover some ground.  I haven’t yet told you about lovely Georgiopoulos, the lead photo right back where we began.  Maybe I don’t need to.  I hope that it’s unspoilt and beautiful still.

We had a wonderful holiday, with charming people.  I hope I have not bored you with my rambles.  I’ll say goodbye to Greece properly with one last sunset.

Rethymnon beach at sundown.

Maybe, just one more! Goodbye Greece.

A woodland walk in Spring sunshine

Not feeling too much like talking this week, so I’m letting the photos speak for me.  Click on a photo to start the gallery rolling, if you’d like.

Cate at Show My Face will be glad to have your company.  My thanks to her for being our kind hostess.  I actually didn’t go much past my Six Words this week!

Ouranoupolis beach, Halkidiki

Serene, isn’t it?  I was curious to see a little of the Greek mainland.  Yet of all our Greek holidays, like this photo, it’s a little hazy in my memory.

Halkidiki (though I rather like the silent C) is the distinctive-looking three-pronged peninsula in the north of Greece.  Our base was at the tiny resort, Polichrono, on the third “prong” known as Kassandra.

Map of ancient Chalkidiki, from Wikipedia

The sheltered beaches of the most westerly peninsula were quite popular at that time, the main resort being Hanioti.  Popular was not what I was looking for, and the peaceful sandy beach at Polichrono was timeless in its appeal.  I planned, of course, to visit Sithonia, the middle “prong”, and hopefully Thessalonika.  The third “prong”, Agion Oros, with its mysterious monasteries, was only accessible by ferry and with special permit.  A ferry ride was always on my list.

For 2 year old James, life was a beach.  With the purchase of a large green crocodile, he sealed the friendship of a lovely blonde mop-headed little boy called Kirk.  Not in the least shy and very adept in the water, Kirk led the exploits, grappling with the croc.  Land-based, their activities included constructing a huge, sand Tracey Island (for Thunderbirds fans everywhere) with a little engineering help from Michael.  Sometimes, while Dad worked, the boys drifted off to play with the Lego pirates, or Stingray- another favourite.

Life’s a beach!

Come on, Mr. Croc!

I know he won’t bite, but….

After a few days of lazy sunshine, the urge to travel was with me again, and we signed up for a coach tour of Sithonia.  An early start, in ‘jamas, was becoming the norm.  The scenery was pretty along the coast of Kassandra, becoming more dramatic as we rounded the curve to travel down the western shore of the middle “prong”.

Neos Marmaras made a sunny, pleasant, coffee stop, then on to some castle ruins at Toroni, and up the east coast of Sithonia.  A series of lovely bays, a lunch stop at Sarti then heading back, it was a bit of a marathon day.

Flat calm in an idyllic bay

Naturally, beach time followed, and to my dismay the prospect of a trip to Thessalonika was vetoed.  Still, I had one more treat to come.  Mount Athos was an intriguiging destination.

Yet another World Heritage Site, Mount Athos, the “Holy Mountain”, is home to 20 Eastern Orthodox monasteries.  The number of daily visitors to Mount Athos is restricted, and all are required to obtain a special entrance permit.  Residents must be males over the age of 18, and must be either monks or workers.  Women are expressly prohibited from entering the territory, known as the “Garden of the Virgin” by the monks.  Quite sensibly, the reason for the prohibition is to make living in celibacy easier for those who have chosen to do so.  Knowing that I was forbidden entry didn’t spoil my day out.

The enormous ferry, complete with swimming pool, set sail from lovely Chroussos Bay.  3 and a half hours at sea passed surprisingly quickly, especially the last half hour, spent looking out for 8 of the monasteries perched along the coast.  Ouranoupolis was a pretty little spot for lunch and a paddle, before the shorter, more direct sailing homewards, excitingly accompanied by dolphins.

Ag. Panteleimonos monastery, Mount Athos

Moni Grigoriou

The Mount Athos peninsula, Agion Oros

Our destination, pretty Ouranoupolis

And so, another chapter in my Greek odyssey comes to a close.  I’m leaving you with a calm Halkidiki sunset.

Just one last Greek story to tell.  Can you guess which island I’m going to next?

Anybody seen the backgammon set?

You might have noticed I’ve got my “Greek head” on at the minute.  Something to do with sunshine, or lack of.  The above photo is one that was destined for my post A tale or two : Rhodes, but it escaped.  I rather think it must have been holding back for Ailsa’s challenge this week.

The challenges can be a lot of fun, can’t they?  With Ailsa’s permission I’m going to use this post to ask whether anyone has heard anything of Jake of Jakesprinter’s Sunday Post lately?  We all pass each other by and dash to the next challenge, but Jake has been strangely absent since his Entrance post.  He has left no hint on there of his whereabouts, and hasn’t been commenting on posts as he normally would.  Maybe he’s just busy, but I would like to be reassured if any of you know anything more?

Sorry, Ailsa, to use your post like this, but it’s been “nibbling” at me all week.  Hope you don’t mind?  There are some great bench shots over there so don’t forget to check them out.  Thanks everybody.

All aboard for the islands!

Now that the small person had been initiated into Greek Island life, and been found to approve, there was no stopping us!  Six months later it was Rhodes for a Spring holiday.  Another group of islands to call home for 2 weeks, this time far south in the Eastern Aegean, just off the coast of Turkey.  The connection with the Knights Templar has always fascinated me.

I had chosen Pefkos as a base.  The notion of it being a summer home for workers who farmed grapes, olives, tomatoes and figs on the coast, and didn’t return inland to their homes in the heat of summer, I found very appealing.  It promised peaceful days but a close proximity to beautiful Lindos.

Lindos castle

Donkeys! No thank you- we’ll struggle up under our own steam.

As far back as the 8th century Lindos had been a major trading centre and in classical times it was dominated by an Acropolis and temple of Athena.  Practicality interceded in the 14th century when the Knights of St. John built the mighty fortess over part of the temple ruins to defend the island against the Ottomans.

It was, of course, a long hot slog up there!  Always upwards for the view.  But afterwards it was very pleasant exploring the streets and quiet corners.  A cafe was essential and wouldn’t you know it- two year old James proved to be a dab hand at backgammon!  Me, I was clueless, but endeavoured to learn.

A charming corner of Lindos

I’m over here Mum!

This is how you do it!  I don’t think it’s an illegal move?

Ok smarty pants- back to the streets.

Down to the beach for a hint of breeze

It was, as you can probably see, pretty hot.  I even sat in the shade down by the beach!  A lesson had been learnt from the previous holiday in Zante and we indulged in a taxi back to Pefkos, where James favourite occupation was watering the garden of our apartments. (endlessly!)  You remember he had a fascination with hosepipes?  Taps, too!

I imagine it will be more of a resort now, but back then, Pefkos had all we needed.  Many hours were spent at the beach, drawing sand pictures and tunneling away.  The restaurants were wonderfully laid back and a “spaghetti cat” adopted us.  He seemed to survive happily on James’ leftover spag bol.

As on Zante, we did the island tour as a painless way of seeing things with a toddler in tow.  Rhodes town we did on the bus.  I only had to see that harbour to set me off scheming again!

Mandraki harbour, Rhodes

The mighty castle of the Knights of St. John in the background

The medieval old town is a World Heritage Site and from 1309 was occupied by the Knights Templar.   I tried to imagine Mandraki Harbour when it was home to the Colossus of Rhodes but the bustle of yachts and artist’s easels defeated me.   I’m going to share a wonderfully evocative photo from Wikipedia because by evening time we were long gone.

The harbour as I would have loved to see it- courtesy of Wikipedia

And a woodcut of Rhodes from the Nuremburg Chronicles 1493- equally captivating to me, also from Wikipedia

I had really hoped that a trip across to Kos might have been on the cards, but for once Michael refused to even discuss it.  My consolation prize was the tiny jewel, Symi, famous for its sponges, spices and shipbuilding.  Symi is 41km northwest of Rhodes and nearer to Turkey’s Datca peninsula.  Our honeymoon had included a gulet trip from Bodrum in these very same waters.

The ferry landing on Symi

Symi’s pastel pretty harbour

The ferry docked first at Panormitis for a visit to St Michael’s monastery, and then into Symi town.  A wind had sprung up, driving the clouds before it, and I was glad of the jumper packed as an afterthought.  The town climbed up, and up, to Ano Symi, and for once I refrained from hauling us all up there.  It was enough to dodge the wind and retreat to a cosy cafe, where James tried to tempt the local cats with spaghetti.  They didn’t seem to have the same taste buds as their Rhodes compatriots.

Ah, well!  Another island adventure over.