An afternoon walk from Killin to the shore of Loch Tay…
The crannog on Loch Tay
- Post author By Marc De Ridder
- Post date October 26, 2020
Category: History
Ballagan House at the foot of the Campsie.
In my previous post Casa Bencomo from 2010, I showed a set of images of the derelict traditional townhouse taken in 2006 and the start of the renovations in 2010. The renovations have now been completed, and the townhouse now houses San Sebatian’s tourist information as well as an exhibition of the history of the island.
When we walked into the restored building, our first impression was that the restorations had been done unsympathetically. However, when comparing the photos taken with those from the derelict courtyard in 2006 that evening, we realised that that judgement had been a bit rash. Granted, the property is fairly empty and a bit too sparsely furnished with a drab colour scheme compared to the look of an original inhabited townhouse. But a few large green plants in the empty pots would go a long way to make the courtyard look less bare.
Please have a close look at the two photos above taken in January with the three photos of the derelict court yard taken in 2006 below. These clearly show that a lot of the original features, especially the woodwork and balcony, have been very well restored. The main differences are that the original three storey East side has been converted in two storeys with less windows, and there is a well that was not visible under the rubble in 2006.
One of the most famous features of Sigiriya are the 5th Century paintings found in two depressions on the rock face some 100 metres above the ground. These paintings are a merely a fragment of an immense backdrop of paintings that once extended in a wide band across the Western rock face measuring some 140 meters long and 40 meters high.
All that has survived are the female figures preserved in the two depressions known as apsaras (or celestial nymphs), often found in religious and royal art in Asia. As so little of the mural has survived, the entire composition is left to ones imagination. The mural could well have depicted a devotional procession of the ladies of Kasyapa’s court or an expression of the cult of divine royalty with vijju kumari (lightning princesses) and meghalata (cloud damsels) at the abode of the god Kuvera.
This last image is a closeup of the centre of Sigiriya’s rock above, clearly showing the location of the Apsara paintings. There are two narrow spiral staircases leading up and down to a closed off viewing platform from the hidden traversing walkway partway up the rock face.
A scary climb, especially if you suffer from vertigo, but it is well worth it. The Apsara paintings are absolutely superb and without a doubt a must see for anyone visiting Sri Lanka.
A wonderfully preserved ancient Sri Lankan door.
One of the most distinctive features found in Mayan architecture is the Mayan arch, a corbelled arch that spans entrances and vaults. As the Maya never discovered the true arch, the Maya were limited to construct single storey buildings with narrow, if sometimes long, rooms.
The Mayan arch can only support a limited amount of weight and requires significantly thickened walls and an abutment of other stone or fill to counteract the effects of gravity and to avoid each side of the archway to collapse inwards.
The description in the dictionary of a Mayan arch is not easy to comprehend: a corbel arch is constructed by offsetting successive courses of stone at the springline of the walls so that they project towards the archway’s center from each supporting side, until the courses meet at the apex of the archway, often capped with flat stones.
A picture paints a thousand words, so rather than trying to explain or visualise the Mayan Arch from this string of words, I have selected a set of images of Mayan Arches taken at our last visit to Uxmal to illustrate the Mayan Arch and it’s construction.
It is worthwhile to view the above image of the Mayan Arch at the House of Pigeons in full screen mode, and to zoom in and navigate around.
Catedral Metropolitana, Ciudad de México
Or in English, the Metropolitan Cathedral in Mexico City.
Daddy, daddy, get me out of here
Ha ha, I’m underground
Sister, sister, please take me down
Ah ha I’m underground
Daddy, daddy, get me out
Thanks to Euan for keeping his ear to the ground and sniffing out a wonderful photographic opportunity. A little bridie (or was it a mole) told him that the metal doors to the derelict Kelvinbridge Railway Station and Tunnel Entrance are unlocked. So we ended up taking the Underground to Kelvinbridge at lunchtime to go underground.
Indeed, the doors were unlocked. We passed fairly quickly through the first rubbish filled section and entered the Kelvinbridge Railway Tunnel for some serious exploration. An amazing place. We walked for quite a bit, losing sight of the tunnel entrance behind us, but seeing light in front of us, likely from the air vents at the derelict Botanics Station.
On our return, we looked at the first section more closely. How did we miss that. It was a gem of a derelict railway station. Heaps of rubbish and rotten tyres, but plenty of rusty metal grils, stairs and remainders of platforms. Pity we ran out of time, but we’ll be back.
Bloody vuvuzelas! Due to their deafening noise, we didn’t hear the fire engines of at least three fire brigades going past. It was only when I took Lola out for her walk after the game had finished that I noticed all the commotion outside. Lots of people flocking towards Queens Terrace to see the old Notre Dame school and chapel ablaze.
I rushed home to get my camera (and Lynn) and went back along Victoria Circus. We joined a small crowd congregating at the end of a pathway up towards the school to the West side of the fire with a clear view onto the side of the Chapel and the South-North spur of the red sandstone building. A great vantage point from which most of these images were taken. What a disaster, another Glasgow landmark under development mysterously going up in flames.
A bit later, I walked round further, but the view from Queens Terrace was poor due to the cordened of road with the building and the fire obscured by trees. A couple of shots though before deciding to go back to the much better vantage point.
The fire, sparks, steam clouds, water beams and lights provided opportunities for some wonderful shots. Quite a few images that all have there own strengths. Although some appear to be similar, look at them thoroughly, as there are significant and interesting differences in their detail, like a spark cloud in the sky or behind the lit windows.
In the absence of any worthwhile images taken during the past week, here are some images I reviewed and considered for the book on La Gomera that I am currently writing.
The majority of these images were taken on the precipious road that forms the final stretch of the journey along the winding coastal road from San Sebastian to Puntallana which lies on the North-East corner of La Gomera, about 6 km as the crow flies to the North of San Sebastian.
The geology of this area is absolutely mesmerising with it’s vibrant colours, rock formations and steep cliffs tumbling down to a cobalt blue sea. These images do not do this area justice, and the intention has always been to return to this road in more recent visits to spend more time exploring and taking photos. However, the road has been closed during our visits in the past year as it is deemed too dangerous to traverse.
The Ermita de Nuestra Señora de Guadaloupe at Puntallana has an important place in the history, religion and traditions on La Gomera. The ermita is the hermitage of the Virgin de Guadaloupe, the patron Saint of San Sebastian. Every five years on the first Sunday in october, the citizens of San Sebastian take a pilgrimage to Puntallana, and take the Virgin de Guadaloupe on a procession from her hermitage to San Sebastian where she arrives rising from the water. Thereafter she travels the island before returning to her hermitage.
I am unsure if this is still accurate, as I believe the statue is now permanently present in the Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de la Asunción in San Sebastian. On the first Sunday in October she is taken on a procession through San Sebstian, and moved to Puntallana for the full procession every five years. The two photos of the Virgin de Guadaloupe below show the procession and her return to the iglesia at the end of this.
Information in travel guides and, especially, on the internet appear to be confusing and conlicting. Some claim a statue of the Virgin Mary is taken on the annual tour through San Sebastian, but others claim this is the Virgin de Guadaloupe. I hope my good friends in San Sebastian can enlighten me with the correct history and tradition.
A little bit of local history with this set of images of the timber ponds found off the shores of the Clyde at Langbank and Finlaystone, just East of Port Glasgow.
Timber Ponds were set up along the southern shore of the River Clyde in the early days of wooden ship builing, occupying the area between Port Glasgow and Langbank. The industry required vast quantities of thoroughly seasoned timber, and with shipyards occupying most of the shore line from central Greenock to eastern Port Glasgow, demand was prodigious.
The ponds prevented the timber from floating away and allowed the logs to be organised according to type, length of seasoning, and ownership. Extreme weather could result in the logs breaking free of the ponds, closing the river until they were recovered. Remnants of the timber ponds still exist in the lines of vertical wooden posts sticking out of the mud, and rectangular areas can still be seen in aerial views of the surrounding riverbed.
Imported from North America, timber crossed the Atlantic from Quebec to Port Glasgow. In 1825 this trade amounted to some 19,000 tons, and reached almost 28,000 tons by 1834. The timber was unloaded at the mid-harbour, then chained together with rafters and floated to the ponds. At their peak, the ponds extended as far as the Gare Loch, but the arrival of pre-cut timber and steel construction by 1914 meant that few remained in use.
Current practice is to place green, unseasoned timber in vast kilns, gradually reducing the moisture content until the sawn material is stable. This technology was not available in earlier years, when ancient practice was to leave the unsawn logs to lie on the tidal mudflats and season, for months or even years.
And there’s a Taggart connection too with Jardine’s body being recovered from these mud flats.
We have all taken images when we are restricted in the position of our vantage point, so we have to tilt the camera upwards and shift the camera sideways to get the image in the frame. The result of tilting and shifting the camera is that the verticals and horizontals of the image are converging.
The original below shows the converging verticals and horizontals of an image of a mural in Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de la Asunciónin in San Sebastian de La Gomera. Due to the location of the mural, I did not have the option to get in the right position to avoid even part of the effect.
The best way to correct for converging verticals is to use a camera or lens that enables tilt and shift movement of the lens, such as the Canon TSE lenses. Unfortunately, I do not have one of these specialist, extremely expensive tilt and shift lenses, so this option is not available to me.
An easy alternative is to correct tilt and shift in Adobe Photoshop using the ‘skew’ functionality. The process is very simple: select the whole image, select the skew tool found in the edit menu, drag appropriate corners to skew (or more correctly un-skew) the image, and crop or trim the image appropriately.
This is simple and very effective, as the final result below shows, but the quality of the resulting image cannot compete with that achieved using a tilt and shift lens. To achieve the best result with this edit, skew the corners in rather than skew the corners out, as the latter would result in image degradation due to interpolation.