Manchester: A Gloomy Afternoon

Manchester was dark and drizzly.  I was slowly meandering from Victoria train station to Chorlton Street station to catch a coach to Liverpool for my flight to Cork, Ireland.

On the Manchester streets, people looked frightened to death, it was only a few weeks after the Salafist terrorist attack at the MEN Arena.

Even the beautiful, ornate, window frame above struggled to offer any solace.  And the normally beautiful, late Victorian, neo-Gothic Rylands Library was drenched in overcast darkness:

Have just read on the Internet that the Rylands Library contains personal papers and letters of amongst others, Elizabeth Gaskell.  Can remember reading 'Mary Barton' years ago, it dealt with the suffering and kind of noble, sentient dignity of the Manchester working-class.  It was a kind of literary version of Engels' 'The Condition of the Working Class in England' which I'd also studied back then, in my mid-20s in the late 1980s/early 1990s.

The hotel building below would have also, in past times, offered some charm, but not today.

Walking through Manchester on a Friday afternoon no longer felt like north-west England, it felt more like somewhere in Africa or the Middle East.

Had never seen the building below, for a modern piece, it looked kind of interesting:

When I finally got to Chorlton Street coach station, I had an (almost) nightmare-type experience.  A Middle-Eastern, Salafist-looking man (with long beard and no moustache) was sat down with his head in his hands.  Suddenly, at the top of his voice, he screamed something out in support of well-known Salafist terrorist groups.  For a split second, I thought "Oh no, this is it!".  Thankfully, it wasn't.

How I despair at the way political-'correctness' (cultural Marxism/globalisation) is destroying (or has already destroyed) my homeland.

Zamosc: St. Catherine's Church

Managed to get a bit of a look at the beautiful Church of St. Catherine during my recent trip to Zamosc:

Have just read on the Internet that this church was originally built in the late 17th century as part of a monastic complex.

Unfortunately, at some point in more recent history, it was used as a military storehouse, and after 1918, as a theatre.  But in 1922, it was given back to the Catholic Church to be refurbished into the Church of St. Catherine.

Managed to hurriedly get the shot of the horse and carriage passing St. Catherine's below:

I have a soft spot for the Church of St. Catherine, as I attended an Old Latin (Tridentine Rite of) Mass there several years ago.

Zamosc: Armenian Restaurant

Really enjoyed our visit to the Armenian restaurant (above) in Zamosc Rynek.

I had a wonderful meal: pork topped with onion; lavash bread; baked potato; and grilled aubergine, courgette, mushroom and pepper:

The Armenian beer was also good:

Below, we can see the ornate washbasin in the restaurant toilets:

Zamosc: The Old Synagogue

Have visited Zamosc quite a few times over the years, but this was the first time I really took note of the Jewish synagogue (on a side street not far outside the Rynek):

Have just read on the Internet that the synagogue was built between 1610 and 1618 and functioned as a place of worship until the 2nd World War. 

Eastern Poland: Zwierzyniec Tourist Area

Right in the middle of the Zwierzyniec tourist area:

Can't help liking the place:

Thomas Hardy: 'A Changed Man and Other Tales'

Following on from 'Wessex Tales' last year and 'Life's Little Ironies' earlier this year, 'A Changed Man and Other Tales' is the third anthology of short stories I've read by Thomas Hardy.

I read this lesser-known collection of Hardy short stories in various travelling contexts:  commuting to and from work in Warsaw, Poland; flying from Warsaw to Manchester; travelling in a car round county Kerry, Ireland; flying from Frankfurt to Warsaw etc.

It's now 5-6 weeks since I finished reading 'A Changed Man and Other Tales', but I'll try to recall a bit of what I got out of some of the tales as best as I can.  'A Changed Man', the opening short story is a deeply moving tale set in Hardy's 'Casterbridge' (Dorchester) which tells the story of an army officer who marries a local woman and becomes an Anglican clergyman.  In response, his wife plots to leave him for another man, but she ends up almost worshipping him as he heroically leads the fight against a cholera outbreak in Casterbridge and ultimately gives his life, almost Christ-like.  Here, I sense that Hardy is offering a general truth that people are only really valued once they're gone (and then again, they become forgotten in time).

The 2nd tale, 'The Waiting Supper' had less impact on me.  However, afterwards, I was interested to read in Margaret Marande's 'The Hardy Way' (page 194) that its 'Froom Everard House' setting was based on West Stafford House which I passed on my way to West Stafford during my pilgrimage to Hardy's Wessex earlier this summer.  The same was the case with the 10th tale, 'The Duke's Reappearance', when I discovered that Hardy's model setting for this story was the village of Melbury Osmond ('The Hardy Way', page 118) which I'd also passed through (and discreetly camped on the village green for a night) during my Hardy pilgrimage this year.

The 3rd tale, 'Alicia's Diary', was probably my least favourite of the tales with Hardy adopting the 1st person narrative voice of a young woman.  This reminded me of (albeit a sadder version of) Tolstoy's 'Happy Ever After' which I read many years ago.

Really do have trouble recalling the content of the 11 tales now that a couple of months have elapsed since I read them.  However, the 6th tale, 'A Tryst at an Ancient Earthwork' is richly atmospheric as it opens with an incredible description of the site that the narrator is climbing up.  This detailed description of a piece of natural environment reminded me a bit of Hardy's truly incredible, opening description of Egdon Heath in 'The Return of the Native' (my first experience of Hardy about 34 years ago when I was 17 or 18).

The 8th tale, 'A Committee Man of "The Terror"', is a dark and unusual, 'almost love story' between a young French woman who has escaped the horrors of the French Revolution only to encounter, in her English safe haven, an older French man who had taken part in the guillotining of some of her family members back in France.  For some (possibly deep) inner reason, she doesn't give him away and they both develop feelings towards each other, but fate just subtly sets them worlds apart. 

My Song of the Moment

The song dominating my mental jukebox at the moment has to be the sublime 's1' by (Polish band) Blindead.  

Saw Blindead at the recent 'Prog in the Park' Festival in Warsaw and they were fantastic.  Would describe them as a kind of Heavy-ish, Gothic-type Prog band, something like a mix of Faith No More with The Sisters of Mercy.  But perhaps the beauty of their music lies in it being beyond definition.

Eastern Poland: A Beautiful Garden

Have always had a soft spot for sunflowers so I loved this garden in Eastern Poland:

Can't recall ever seeing this flower/plant before:

It almost had an ethereal or science fiction kind of appearance, it was incredible:

Kotek and the Vase

Nice shot of Kotek putting one of his paws inside a vase, possibly believing there's fish inside it.

Thomas Hardy's Wessex: Weymouth Town Bridge

Walking near and over Weymouth Town Bridge, I guessed that this place had to have some Thomas Hardy significance.

In 'The Hardy Way' (page 172), Margaret Marande relates Town Bridge to Hardy's 'The Harbour Bridge' poem which was based on a "previous bridge, built in 1824 in stone, with an iron-swinging central section".

Really enjoyed the whole of the walk from Weymouth seafront up towards Town Bridge, the turquoise water was incredibly beautiful:

Dotted along the sides of the water, many (young and old) couples could be seen eating fish and chips and taking in the sunshine.

Manchester: Near Piccadilly Train Station

Had some time on my hands while waiting for my train down to Bristol from Manchester Piccadilly, and, for obvious reasons, didn't want want to hang around in a crowded train station, so I went on a bit of a wander round.

First, I crossed the modern, metal bridge above, and soon came across the still darkness of the canal:

And then a menacingly big, red-bricked, court building:

The court building and dark, still canal were juxtaposed together:

Can remember the old pub below from walking down to concerts at Manchester Apollo, almost a lifetime away now, seeing UFO; Def Leppard and Magnum; The Scorpions; Rush; MSG; Motorhead; Triumph etc. in 1980:

Killarney: The Franciscan Friary

Another of my highlights from visiting Killarney, the Franciscan Friary:

Got a nice surprise here:  a beautiful high altar apparently untouched from post-Vatican II destruction:

Have just read somewhere on the Internet that the altar is of Flemish style.

If my memory serves me right (from what I read inside the church), the relic below is of an Irish monk who was murdered by Cromwellian troops:

 

Outside the Friary, there was a sense of continuity between the present and past through deceased monks being buried in graves near the crucifix above:

Warsaw 'Prog in the Park' Festival

Just a few shots and quick reflections from yesterday's 'Prog in the Park' Festival in Warsaw.  Arrived just in time to catch the back end of Lion Shephered (above) who sounded quite good.

But the band I was really looking forward to seeing were Blindead:

And they didn't disappoint, they were fantastic (especially doing 's1'), the first time I've seen them live:

Thankfully, the big canopy at Park Sowinskiego kept the crowd dry, away from the rain:

Below, Blindead taking a well-deserved round of applause at the end of a great performance:

Before yesterday, I'd only been to Park Sowinskiego twice (to see Sigur Ros and Patti Smith), and the setting is quite beautiful:

This was the second time I'd seen Solstafir having caught them once before at the Proxima in Warsaw.

As expected, I recognised most of the Solstafir set without knowing any of the song titles.

Unsurprisingly, hardly anybody remained in the (quite good quality) beer area while Riverside were on stage:
 

'Conceiving You' and 'The Depth of Self-Delusion' were my favourite two tunes of the set.

Have now seen Opeth a couple of times, and still don't quite know what to make of them.

Like some tunes (the ones without grunting); less keen on the ones with grunting; and enjoy the storytelling between tunes.