When we finally emerged from the Musée d’Orsay, the crowd waiting to get in had swelled. And there was a queue snaking its way down the stairs and out to the street below. As much as I enjoyed it, it was a relief to leave the crowds of tourists behind.
How we view art today – we photograph it with our phones. Click any picture below to see them larger.
This was the queue we were asked to join for people who had tickets for the same time as our tickets. My tourist foreboding was rising. It was only about a 10-minute wait as they regulated how many people could squeeze through the revolving door at a time. Inside we started at the top with the ever popular Impressionists. It was wall to wall people and almost impossible to look at the paintings. One young woman had fainted and was lying on the floor with her family insisting she was fine. We quickly escaped to less crowded floors. Click any image below to see them bigger.
Here are examples of those de rigeur snaps one feels one has to take but that you can easily buy better postcard versions of or look up in a guide book. Needless to say, my casual travel zoom (16-55mm or 24-83 equivalent) was not up to the 360º challenge, nor was I carrying a tripod or a gimbal. The first picture uses the panoramic sweep feature of my camera to get about 180º. Even trying to fix the perspective in post proved quite a challenge on several of these. The Grand-Place, or Grote Markt, as the Flemish call it is a magnificent, historical square that has been a UNESCO world heritage site for the last 25 years. Read all about it on Wikipedia. Click any of the pictures above to see them all at full-size (if you’re seeing this in an email you may need to click the post title above to get to the web-site first.)
This one eludes me. Both the allure of the Manneken Pis statue itself and, more bizarrely, the behaviour of global tourists for whom nothing is real that isn’t on their phones. That inspired me to break my usual stance of not doing selective colourisation.
Click any image to see them full size (but not from email, you need to click through to your browser first).
The tour I was on was for photographers, stopping at all the most photogenic sites.
Samuel Johnson wrote Rasselas, Prince of Abyssinia in the 18th century and I read it in college in the 20th (it’s where we get the word serendipity from). The grave of Rasselas, native of Abyssinia is in the churchyard of the 15th century St Martin’s church in Bowness. Lovely weather brought the tourists out in the pier area. Click any image to see them each enlarged to full size.
…Not me. But these people we passed were…