Teignmouth Pier

The Grand Pier at Teignmouth was built in 1865, is 696 feet long and is one of only 50 remaining in the UK. It has all the usual rides and slot machines that you would expect in a traditional seaside attraction, and is a lovely place for a promenade to breathe in the healthy sea air.

tei1 Spot the rainbow! These pics were all taken within half an hour on a winter afternoon five years ago.

tei2Look how the sky changed in such a short time.

tei3But that isn’t why I’ve chosen these photos.

tei4

 

How has this splindly structure stood firm for 150 years? Against all the odds I’d say.In 2014, Teignmouth’s pier was badly damaged by winter storms, and  much of it’s floor was washed away. After five months and hundreds of thousands of pounds it re-opened and will no doubt thrill many more people in the years to come.

 

Remote Ghana

It’s pick a word Thursday over at Paula’s place, Lost in Translation. This weeks choices are radiant, alimentary, arboreal, frontal  and remote. I may find some more but for now, remote is my choice.

This isn’t the best photo, taken through a bus window in torrential rain, but I’ll always remember driving through this village in northern Ghana.

remoteIf it was sunny it would be okay, but it was really sad to see that day. It felt really remote, we’d left Mole National Park far behind, but the vibrant city of Kumasi and the sunshine Cape Coast were a long way south.

 

Haveli harmony

A haveli is a townhouse or mansion, a traditional style found in India, Pakistan and Nepal. Build with an inner courtyard space, rather like the riads found in Morocco, but with a more attractive exterior. There are very many in Rajasthan, particularly the Shekhawati area. It’s possible to stay in a haveli, some have been converted in hotels and guest houses. Like a riad, they would be a calm haven shut away from the bustle of the towns.

haveli2This one wasn’t a hotel unfortunately, but it was possible to look around and they also sold antiques, some very expensive and some accessibly priced.

Homes like this aren’t created in a hurry, they have to develop their ambience over time, don’t you think?

 

Paula’s Black and White Sunday

It’s the last day for Paula’s black and white challenge of ‘Passage’, tomorrow there will be a new theme.

passageThis was originally a very colourful image, bright yellow, orange and majorelle blue, but I didn’t notice the shadows until I monochromed it.

Thanks Paula, for making me think more about black and white photos!

 

Resilient enough?

Ben at the Daily Post says,

Let’s close the year by celebrating people, places, and objects that endure.

Well I’m so late with my weekly photo challenge entry that I’m beginning the year rather than ending it. I nearly didn’t bother this week, but then something triggered a memory. A few years ago, my oldest G-baby was really interested in fossils, so I took her to see some, but it was an epic fail. We walked along the stretch of beach where I thought I’d taken these photos a few years before and I couldn’t find them! Poor Louisa was so disappointed, we had to go to the fossil shop, where I bought her a tiny ammonite. Not the same at all when I’d promised her fossils wider than she was tall.

I never did find out for certain what happened to them, at the time I said there must have been another land slide that covered them, they were frequent. But it’s possible that I just couldn’t find them. I need to go back and try again – on my own!

This is my ‘resilient’ entry, I expect you ‘ve already done yours.

This is also a reply to Liz who asked if I’d ever found any fossils. She has a stunning wildlife blog, full of photos of the flora and fauna, in the area around Capetown.

Sidmouth in a different light

There was a bit of a chill in the air in Sidmouth yesterday, and  taking photos with gloves on isn’t the easiest way. But I parked and went east, barely looking towards the sea until I got to the cliff.

This area calls itself the beginning of our Jurassic coast, but the stone is in fact even earlier, Triassic sandstone, and a mile or so further east, the cliff changes to chalk, towards Beer on the horizon. I was looking to see if there has been any further erosion.

Then I turned back towards the west and the low winter sun.

I was immediately stuck by the pink line that looked like a sand bar. It isn’t, just the sun sliding through low clouds.

I walked the length of the seafront, mesmerised.

The sky became increasingly dramatic.

I snapped away happily and stared, probably with my mouth open.

The view was lovely right to the end of the path. My hands were frozen by then, so I found shelter, and tomato and paprika soup in my favourite sea front café, Mocha. I even got the best seat, in the corner with a high stool by the window.

I didn’t edit these photos, except to make them smaller, and they don’t quite show the vibrant colours, so I’ll have to leave it to your imagination.