Weekly Photo Challenge: Monument

Ben at the Daily Post says

In this week’s challenge, show us your take on a monument (broadly defined). It could be a fresh angle on a well-known tourist site, or a place nobody knows outside your community. It doesn’t even have to be an official monument. A legendary coffeehouse, a churchyard cemetery, the remains of a treehouse you’d built as a kid — anything can be monumental as long as it’s imbued with a shared sense of importance.

I visited Gallipoli and Anzac Cove a few years ago as part of a tour of Turkey. To be honest I wasn’t interested and could easily had a snooze while the  others went off to see the battlefields and memorials. I’m glad I did go, it was one of the most moving days I have ever experienced. I’ve written about it before, including a poem and if you’re interested click the Turkey tag in my tag cloud.

For the challenge I’m showing you the monument commemorating the men of the Turkish 57th Infantry Regiment lost in the battle of Gallipoli. The then Lieutenant-Colonel Mustafa Kemal made a famous order to his Ottoman troops.

I am not ordering you to attack. I am ordering you to die. During the time before we die other forces and commanders will take our place.

And die they did, at least 1800 of them. Kemal went on to become a revolutionary statesman, President Ataturk, the founder of modern Turkey, but I digress, here is the monument.

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Join in this week at http://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/monument/

 

 

Travel Theme: Connections

Today is Remembrance Sunday in the UK. It’s always the second Sunday in November and is the day when we reflect on the courage and sacrifices made by our servicemen. One of the most moving experiences I’ve had while travelling was visiting Gallipoli, where thousands lost their lives. My photo shows a statue of a Turkish soldier carrying a wounded allied captain to safety on Pine Ridge, a true incident. I think it shows a compassionate connection between the two.

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NEVER FORGET

A related post, https://lucidgypsy.wordpress.com/2011/06/21/anzac-cove/

And if you would like to join in with Ailsa’s challenge, http://wheresmybackpack.com/2013/11/08/travel-theme-connections/

Weekly Photo Challenge: Nostalgic

 Cheri says ‘Sometimes, we long for the past: for moments we want to remember or recapture. The good times. The golden years. Or perhaps we’re homesick, or longing for something — or someone — that might have been.’

Here are my entries

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I wonder if he is nostalgic about travelling back in time.

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Boats like this always make me feel nostalgic, I wonder what she was like in her heyday.

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An old soldier shares stories with his grandchild at Gallipoli.

Do you have something nostalgic to share?http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/07/05/nostalgic/

Weekly Photo Challenge: Regret

This photo is about much more than regret but I won’t intrude on any feelings you may have. I felt it appropriate especially as many of my blogging friends are from Australia and New Zealand. It was taken at Anzac Cove, Gallipoli.

and this is to show a little more for those who may never have the opportunity to visit.

Last year, soon after I began blogging, I wrote this poem and posted it with another photo. https://lucidgypsy.wordpress.com/2011/06/21/anzac-cove/

Gallipoli and Anzac Cove, in remembrance

I was privileged to visit Anzac and Gallipoli on the Dardanelles earlier this year and found it an incredibly moving experience that remains with me still. As tomorrow is November 11th I thought I would share some photos I took there. I think you will agree it is beautiful, the Turkish people have made it a protected area with only people whose families have farmed there for generations allowed to do so. They are a very generous people with no bitterness only a deep compassion for those lost.

A Summer of Boats, England and Turkey

For someone who doesn’t do boats and knows nothing about them, this has been a boaty summer. It began on a glorious April day with a short trip across the Tamar River in Plymouth, Devon on the Cremyll ferry with my lovely daughter in law and granddaughter.

One of the best things that Plymouth has ever done was to buy the Cremyll along with Cornwall Council, for fifteen minutes you have the most wonderful view of the Sound, Royal William yard and the spectacular coastline.

The boat was full of day trippers who like us were heading for Mount Edgecumbe Country Park, on the Rame peninsula that’s actually in that foreign land of Kernow.

Plymouth is a bustling city with little charm having been badly hit in the blitz, but stepping onto the ferry really is another world.

Everyone is excited to be going on a mini holiday to the countryside, the ferry ride is less than five pounds for a family of four and the destination has acres of grounds and gardens to walk, picnic and relax for free!

My next boat experience was crossing the Dardanelle straits, which both connect the Aegean to the Sea of Marmara and also separate Asian turkey from European Turkey. The Dardanelles have been an important stretch of water throughout history and strategically relevant in the Crimean and First World War After an emotionally moving time in Gallipoli I crossed to Canakkale on a large boat where I’d foolishly chosen to sit upstairs for the best view and nearly froze in the draft for an hour. Soon after landing my travelling friends and I reached the site of the ancient city of Troy but that’s for another blog.

Ten days and around eighteen hundred miles and I’m back at another ferry port, this one takes me back to the European side of Istanbul. It’s a large ferry this time with lots of strange chunks of metal, cables, ropes and good strong coffee. The view in all directions is amazing and it’s a real thrill to arrive in a cosmopolitan city I have waited so long to visit.

Later in the day it’s time for a cruise on the Bosphorus, we are just a few on Edim, a posh boat that had the capacity for fifty people with a bar and café. We cruised along one bank beside painted wooden houses, stylish restaurants and clubs frequented by Istanbul’s’ glitterati.

Pootling along for what seemed like hours, the waterway was busy but with space enough for everyone it was quiet and relaxing. The size of the city became apparent from the perspective that the water gave, I lost count of the number of domed mosques and minarets.

Some of the grandest buildings were foreign embassies, palaces and military colleges. The Bosphorus was a lovely place for a relaxing cruise, next time I’ll go by night.

In August I had a brilliant day out with friends in Gloucestershire, a couple of hours on the train. Gloucester Dock, a very ‘Gentrified’ area has the prettiest of canal barges,  well   maintained with shiny bright paint jobs. I’m very curious about who lives here and just what they are like inside. I imagine it’s like being in a wobbly caravan,lovely in summer but a bit bleak in winter especially if the canal froze.

A complete contrast for my last boats of the summer, on Exeter quay where there is a working boatyard. It’s one of those places that look out of bounds and until last year I had only stood at the gate to peep, until one day a man said that it’s public and okay to go in. It looks like a very male environment until you see pots of geraniums flowering their little heads off. A very sensory place with smells of engine oil mixed with oily fry-up, sounds of oars, hammers, rap and classics and boats of all shapes and sizes. I’ve watched this one

develop and now it’s nearly completed it may be gone next time I go down. I’d love to see it hit the water.

This one saddens me, the council have deemed it rubbish and an eyesore.

An official letter is pinned to it stating that they will dispose of it unless the owner removes it by a date that has now passed, and they will charge for doing so. Someone has been working on its restoration, just not as quickly as the council would like, it’s a massive money pit of a project. I talked to one of the boat owners and he said that the mooring fees had been paid and apparently it’s a trawler, obviously very old. Who knows what its history is?I believe it would be beautiful once done, surely the purpose of a boat yard is to mend and build boats? Bureaucracy drives me mad.

Anzac Cove

A single satin poppy like a drop of blood on innocent sand.

As far as the eye can see, empty turquoise, peacefulness,

In the loveliest burial ground in the world

For the thousands of ghosts of lost boys

Who were sent here to die.

Stones pierce the green like rows of shark’s teeth

Stones that name Anzacs in their teens and twenties

Few old enough to be dads, all young enough to be sons.

Antipodean voices whisper as they search

Emotion choked as names are uncovered

And Rosemary battles for remembrance

Against the fennel scorched air.