African Images one does not forget:

Sometimes you take a picture which, for some reason or another, sticks in your memory.
It has something to do with the composition, the moment, surrounding circumstances or just the mood you were in when you tripped the shutter.
These images you just never forget and when they re-surface, while prowling through your picture laden treasure chest, the moment comes back exactly the way it was then.
You feel the temperature, you smell the odors, you hear the wind in the bush and foremost you see the image in front of you.
There are, of course, many pictures which fall into this category.
Below here, are some of them:

There are many members of the stork family. 

The "Saddle Bill" is my all time favourite. 

The body in Black and White, 

The long beak in three parts, red-black- red

the yellow flap between his eyes

and the pink knee guards.

Was Nature drunk or just in a good mood when it designed "the Saddle Bill." ?

The "Vervet Monkey"

In a densely overgrown area, only one branch, sticking out,

making sort of a window.

First one adult came forth, likely to check out the neighbourhood.

Shortly thereafter its mate slowly and carefully also examines  the surroundings.

A shrill whistle seemed to call the "all clear" when the two youngsters  made an appearance.

For the next 500 meters, or so, the Zambesi river features a vertical shore line.

This fairly large male, ( he only looks small in the distance )

had plowed his way through the shallows and started to feast on a field of water plants.

Boldly in front sits a Cattle Egret awaiting what will inevitably be his reward:

Some juicy Elephant droppings.

After a long wait, hidden behind a make shift blind

and without the guide,

this Rhyno presented herself. Almost like a reward.

Ayn Rand said...

Individual rights are not subject to a public vote.
A majority has no right to vote away the rights of a minority;
the political function of rights is precisely to protect minorities from oppression by majorities..
and the smallest minority on earth is the individual.

and then she said this:

A creative man is motivated by the desire to achieve, not by the  desire to beat others.

*****************

and Bertravels believes that

an individual can only truly prosper 

if he/she is part of a prosperous whole.

A Cheetah and its kill

Not even a fleet footed Impala, changing direction at almost 9o degrees at full speed, can escape the fastest four legged animal in the world.
At top speed of 120 km per hour, for short bursts, the Cheetah can out run its intended victim and slay it efficiently.
The chase itself happened too far away for good photography,  but then, when the Impala was safely stowed in the brush, we could come close enough for these shots:

The Cheetah has dragged the Impala into the bush,

and suspiciously scans into every direction.

She has seen us, but evidently has concluded that we are not a rival

for her dinner

Had we asked her to sit as a  model with her kill,

we could not have had a more typically imposing  camera - shot

If the Cheetah is lucky she will get to gulp down 

about 10 to 20 percent of her kill.

Then the marauders, such as Hyenas, Vultures and Lions 

will move in and take over.

A well hidden bounty and speed of devouring 

are the secrets of success.

Gin and Tonic

John said: "Any fool can be uncomfortable"
Ant added to this piece of wisdom: "You don't have to be smart to do without."
We did not want to do without, if we could help it.
Therefore, Ant, our friend and Safari Guide, had brought along:
1 Refrigerator box with ice cube tray
1 battery
2 solar panels
At any opportunity, the solar panels were placed appropriately and connected to the battery.
Once fully charged, the battery was connected to the refrigerator
and the refrigerator was then filled with meats and other spoilable food,
but always, always leaving enough space for a couple of bottles of good South African wines
and the best available Gin and some tonic water.
So, this way, we never ha to "do without" the important stuff.

One beautiful day, we almost came a cropper, since an Elephant 
took an intense interest into our two sensitive solar panels. 
Had he succeeded in damaging them, it would have been 
the end, not necessarily of our Safari, but certainly of some properly cooled wine and some ice cold Gin and Tonic.
And how, pray tell, can you conduct a civilized Safari without cool wines and without ice cold G & T ?
You cannot !
Therefore, Ant got into the cruiser and, blowing its horn in intervals, edged closer and closer to the thick skinned Elephant
until this one got the message, that his presence was not wanted here.

He has lived here for many a year,

but he has never seen the like of this.

Shoo - Shoo -

Get lost !

Leave our solar panels alone !

Slowly "Jumbo" decides that whatever these things are, 

they are not eatable,

and he moves along, in search of better stuff.

Where you goin', Sun ?

The Sun, a Tree, a Vulture, in Botswana.

If you stick around long enough in about the same place, you may see the same scene, changing before your eyes.
It looks, - at least it looked to me,- as if the vulture atop this bare naked tree was following the travelling sun, wondering what this strange reddish ball might be, and where it might be next.

The setting sun is still a bit off, to the left, 

and the Vulture's profile

shows his curiosity clearly.

The Sun has come closer, hangs on a sturdy branch ,

and the angle of the bird's head has changed accordingly.

Now this fiery ball is just below the Vulture

who clearly is peering down at it,

probably wondering, when this spectacle might end.

So, you may say, it is the photographer 

who has changed his position, giving the appearance 

of a travelling sun.

Okay ? Then please explain the different posture

of the bird's head !

Bertstravels 

still tries to puzzle this one out.

Jungle

No, not a jungle in Borneo.

Just some climbing plants adhering to the underside of our balcony.

Franciscus: Think before you speak !

Once again Pope Franciscus made some pretty strange statements.

They are right along the saying: „People who sit in glass houses should not throw stones“.

The Pope continued his antipoverty campain in South America and stuck right with the theme:

In Communist governed Bolivia he said this: (Evo Morales rubs his hands in glee.)

„I ask you not to yield to an economic model which is idolatrous“.

In his harsh criticism of capitalism he portayed it as a system that „sacrifices human lives on the altar of money and profit.“

Pretty strong statement, particularly as it comes from the head of a religious movement which is counted among the world's most profitable and therefore wealthiest organisations.

The moneys, pouring into the coffers of the Catholic church on a daily basis is almost beyond counting.

When one speaks of the „altar of money and profit“, the Catholic Church, which avoids the payment of just taxes in many countries, comes foremost to mind.

In one short speech, the Pope condemned two concepts: Idolatry and profit.

He should be most familiar with both, since they are practiced by his organisation to a degree of almost absolute perfection.

Webster's dictionary tells me that „idolatrous“ means among others, „showing extreme admiration or reverence for something.“

Pay particular attention to the word: „something“ … it does not say: „someone“.

When the uncountable images of Jesus, Mary, and all the Saints in pictures and statues are adored, prayed to, touched and kissed, the Catholic Church will tell you that these images serve only as examples, as representations of the persons.

This same lame excuse can also be made by a member of a Woodoo Clan, when he/she prays to a pile of chicken bones.

It is, they say, through these representations that the connection to the real person is established.

Don't you believe it: The „Believers“ talk to, pray to and beg for intercessions from the idol.

Why do they keep telling us of the statues of Mary and others, which shed tears, show stigmata and hear prayers ?

This church has more „Idols“ than you can shake the proverbial stick at. And all this despite the third commandment.

The second concept, this brave Pope deals with, is „Capitalism“ . A system, he says, which „sacrifices human lives on the altar of money and profit.“

Once again, the Pope pays lip service to Communism, by condemming what he believes to be Capitalism, without showing even a trace of understanding of the capitalist philosophy.

The philosophy of Capitalism, Free Enterprise, Freedom of the individual are what has brought prosperity to large sectors of mankind.

Where these principles are not practiced, where the State, at its whim, organizes the lives of its citizens, supresses individual freedoms and determines the direction of the economy, we find precisely the system which sacrifices individual rights „on the altar of its dictates.“

Franciscus! We understand your concern about the poor of this world, we understand your desire to assist the poverty stricken. 

But please, do so after careful consideration of what you say.

Bertstravels

disandat

"Ready for Take-Off"

A split second after this image was taken

 a gust of wind took those seeds on a long journey.

One of the main streets in Harare, Zimbabwe

and the Chakaranda trees are in full bloom.

On one of the seven hills of the town of Kariba, Zimbabwe,

on the shores of the large lake of the same name,

a native lady displays her handycraft.

A sick bridge ? Or very sick people ?

Can you believe this ?

There is a series of „workshops“ held near here.

Most of them of a rather esoteric nature.

They all are a bit peculiar

One of them, however, stands out.

This workshop is entitled:

„Suicide – and what follows ?“

It promises to….“find a way which will lead to greater understanding, love and finally to reconciliation.“

It further offers a „protected room where jointly we can find words and ways to express our feeling of helplessness“......

So far, so good. 
But then comes the scorcher! 
The Promo continues:

„With the proceeds of this workshop a Shaman-induced cure of the xyz* bridge will be financed. This year alone too many suicides have been committed from this bridge.

May this distressed bridge find a cure.“

In other words, it is the fault of the bridge that people jump off it and into oblivion.

The bridge is sick and therefore it must be cured by a Shaman.

How sick is the bridge ? Is its sickness incurable or may a Shaman coax some healing out of its steel girders ? Maybe the sickness rests in the reeling ? Or might it be ensconced in the concrete pillars upon which it rests ? How about the water, which flows underneath ? Is it left turning ?

Oh, you don't even know about left turning or right turning water ?

No! In this case it is the bridge which is sick and which must be cured.

This entire thing is really much too stupid to be given any consideration.

So, why do I write about it ?

Because there are people who believe !

********************

*In the flyer the bridge is identified by name and therefore its location is well known.

Bertstravels

can only shake its head in disbelief.

stop me if you heard this one before

... a man walks into a doctor's office and says:
"Doctor, you have to help me. I keep thinking I'm a moth"
"Well, my good man", says the doctor, "you should see a psychiatrist. His office is just down the corridor."
" I know", says the man, "but in your office the lights were on."

Bertstravels
heard this one a long time ago, but is still laughing.

Fundamental Prerequisits:

Before you can say: " I love you "

You must be able to say:  "I"

Then you must understand "love"

Only then can you say: "I love you"

 Bertstravels

Hemma von Peilenstein

Within about a fifteen minute car drive from my home in Bleiburg, there is a series of hills, not to call them mountains, of which one bears the name: „Hemmaberg“, the mountain of Hemma. It was named in memory of Saint Hemma.

Who then, was Saint Hemma ?

She was borne in the year 980 AD, or about that time.

Nobody knows for sure.

In fact not too much is known about her. Not even the exact spelling of her name:

some call her „Hemma“ some call her „Emma“., or „Imma“

No wonder; she lived about 1000 years ago, and in that time span, stories have a habit of changing.

Let me tell you what I could find out about her and then my assumption, which may or may not be accurate.

Borne as the „Countess of Zeltschach“ to obviously a noble family, called Peilenstein, baptised as „Hemma“ ( or Emma, or maybe Imma ) and brought up in Bamberg, a city now situated in Bavaria, by Empress Kunigunde.

She married Count Wilhelm of Friesach and bore him two sons, Hartwig and Wilhelm.

Hemma (let's agree on this version of her name) was a very pious lady and well connected with the hierarchy of the Roman Catholic Church.

She is said to have been a most generous lady, donating much of her personal wealth to the Catholic church.

Her wealth, however, was peanuts, compared to that of her husband, Count Wilhelm of Friesach.

The official end-story of this family goes like this:

One day, in a scuffle with revolting mine workers, Hartwig and Wilhelm were killed.

Their father, Count Wilhelm, overtaken by grief, made a pilgrimage to Rome.

On his journey back home he too was killed.

Hemma, the only surviving member of her family, inherited all of her husband's immense wealth

and, being the devout Catholic, promptly started to spend it all in works for her religion.

She built 10 ( ten ) churches, paid for their erection and subsequent staffing, built the Benedictine Abbey in Gurk and funded a Benedictine foundation in Admont.

It is easy to see that good old Hemma gave the bulk of her wealth, mostly from her inheritance, to the Catholic church.

When she died in 1045 AD, ( or thereabouts) the Archbishop Gebhard of Salzburg dissolved the Admont foundation and quickly used the money to set up the Diocese of Gurk- Klagenfurt.

Hemma was „beatified“ in the year 1287 and declared a Saint in 1938.

(I always thought that, to be declared a Saint, one had to have performed at least three miracles. However, money seems to have easily taken the place of miracles.)

So far the bones of this story. How much of it is true nobody really knows.

This is what I think might have happened:

Hemma was like putty in the hands of the Catholic Church who knew that anything she owned would finally end up in its hands.

So, how do we get all of the family's wealth into Hemma's possession?

Simple: We kill the male members and then there will be only Hemma, and to get the money out of her will be child's play.

Oh, you say, religious people, like Bishops, Archbishops, Popes would not do such a dastardly thing ?

You have to be kidding!

They have probably done this, as they have done many more deeds worse than this.

Of course, they have no exclusive on murder for money. This seems to be an ear mark of mankind.

Bertstravels

is glad not to be rich, that's why he survived to a ripe old age

Hortensia

...put there, just for the fun of it

and

Go, find the Bee !

Paradise ... almost

Today:

The sun blazes from a virgin sky.

Over the mountain blows a hot breeze

from the Adriatic

two sprinklers lazily turn their fan-shaped spray

from side to side,
barely covering half of our back garden.

At the bottom of the pool

you can see a dime without distortion.

The water is crystal clear and light blue.

The red and yellow roses in the corner
bend their heads in the heat of the day.
Tired.

Kitty-Cat-Cat and Doggy-Dog-Dog stretch in the shade

of a large, rust red umbrella.

He, slightly snoring and she, purring with pleasure;

unadulterated.

I, in my swimming trunks, still wet

from the recent head first dive into the pool,

lie on a comfortable deck chair

also in the shade of a wide brimmed sun screen.

Through the half open window of my studio

I hear Harry Belafonte sing in his slightly raspy voice

about an „Island in the Sun.“

and I think: „Is there a more beautiful „Island in the Sun“

than the one in which I stretch my ancient bones ?

It would truly be paradise

if only....


Bertstravels
inspite of all the beauty is a bit on a downer.

Stalactite Caves

The year was 1870, and in what is now the Austrian Province of Carinthia ( Kärnten )  the search for iron ore was in full swing.
Some success had been had in the area of the Obir massive, but the cost of excavation and the difficulties of transportation of the ore into the valley made the effort hardly worth while.

During the search the miners came deeper and deeper into the mountain when they were suddenly presented with a number of natural caves connected by narrow tunnels.
In the caves a panorama of stalactites and stalagmites gleaming a ghostly white in the light of their carbide lamps.

It took until 1903 when the first feeble attempts were made to make this natural phenomenon into a tourist attraction. Getting there, however, was no easy matter until 1990 when a road was built up the mountain and further tunnels and caves were made accessible to the public.

I was there yesterday and had brought my cameras along.

The tour takes you for 1.3 km through caves 

and connecting corridors,

If my memory serves me correctly, 

our guide mentioned some 690 steps

in a number of segments.

Stalagmites and Stalactites grow at a rate of about 1 ccm in 300 years.

I couldn't wait that long. Had to return home.

an overhead shot of a tunnel connecting two caves.

a constant temperature of 8 C 

makes some warmer clothing advisable.

Reaching a hight of 4 meters, this stalagmite is an impressive sight.

another set of steps leading to the narrow opening 

into the next cave.

How does all of this happen ?

Water, seeping through the rock, collects Calcium

and, having reached a hollow space (cave) sheds the Calcium

producing these astonishing pictures.

Stalactites ( hanging from the ceiling )

Stalagmites ( growing from the ground up )

all it takes is "TIME"

Millions of years !

Humble Appologies ! Are they enough ?

Pope Franciskus is in Bolivia, visiting one of the poorest countries in South America and on this occasion he spoke to a large crowd in Santa Cruz and said:

„ I am telling you humbly and with deep regret that many serious sins have been committed on the Aborigines of your country, in the name of the Lord.“

It seems to me that now, that he is in South America, he might also stop over in North America where he could offer these same „humble appologies“, since North American natives were killed by the thousands, in many cases because they would not swear off their Gods and refused to accept the God of Love, Jesus.

At the beginning of the 17^th Century a colourful – in the worst sense – group of pirates and slave traders along with some honest-men settlers landed on the East Coast of North America.

This motley crew of adventurers was accompanied and in many cases lead by Christian Clergy.

Christian soldiers savaged the land and killed and raped its natives and all this savagery was sanctioned by „Holy Mother Church“ !

Not since the murderous crusades, when Pope Urban II organized the invasion of the Muslim world, was the killing of an indigenous population performed in such a systematic manner.

As a side light it may also be interesting to note that Evo Morales, communist President of Bolivia, presented the Pope with a telling memento of his visit: A cross formed of a „hammer and sickle“.

Doesn't it just all jive ?

Asks

Bertstravels.

July 2015

In the Trögener Klamm

Just beyond the town of Eisenkappel, near the border to Slovenia, still in the foot hills of the Karawanken Mountains is the "Chasm of Trögen".
A steep cut into the rock face with a fast running, clear, green brook at the very bottom.
The road winding its way about half way up the "Klamm" is narrow, with now and then a lay-by, so that if  there is an oncoming car, one or the other has to back up making it to the nearest widening.
It is really not dangerous ! It only looks and feels hair raising.
Somewhere there must be places where one can climb down to the mountain brook for a very refreshing dip in one of the small round pools cut into the rock over the millenia.
I say: " .. must be ... because I saw bathers, lying on the water-smoothed rocks, sunbathing and now and then taking a cold bath, although I could not figure out how they got there.
Anyway, it's a lovely trip.

two intrepid bathers in the Trögener Klamm

Ayn Rand said...

Achievement of your happiness is the only moral purpose of your life, and that happiness, not pain or mindless self-indulgence, is the proof of your moral integrity, since it is the proof and the result of your loyalty to the achievement of your values.

and then she said this:

It only stands to reason that where there is sacrifice, there is someone collecting the sacrificial offerings.
where there is service there is someone being served.
The man who speaks to you of sacrifice
is speaking of slaves and masters, and intends to be the master.

"Bled", a place to remember !

In Slovenia, our next door neighbour, there is a town and a lake, both called "Bled", situated at the southern foot of the Karawanken mountains.
Within the lake there is a small island, home of the "Assumption of Mary" pilgrimage church..
Seemingly precariously perched on a steep sided rock overlooking the lake you will find Bled Castle.
This town is truly a sight that, once visited, one will never forget.
I'll be going back there soon.

Early Spring and the Karawanken mountains are still snow topped.

Precariously perched on the left, the Castle of Bled.

The "Assumption of Mary" Pilgrimage Church. 

99 steps lead to the church from the boat landing ramp.

A popular church for the performance of weddings. 

According to custom, the groom must carry his bride up the entire flight of steps.

I trust that the access to the castle is a bit easier from the other side. 

On the Zambezi

(excerpt from my book: "Safari Africa 2011" )

…. downriver we reached an island, which Kel had chosen as our first overnight camp.

We beached our canoes and unloaded everything we would need for the night's stay.

The first impression I had was that there were a number of very large foot prints of an elephant.

This did not fill me with a great sense of confidence.

We collected driftwood, some of it so large that it made a wonderful fire, first to cook our meal and then, later, to ward of any curious animals.

Lis'beth and Otto disemboweled the bream and prepared it with spices brought along. 

Some radish like vegetable, thinly sliced and potatoes baked in the hot sand completed a wonderful meal.

I extended my tripod to its fullest height, draped my mosquito net over it, tucked the ends of the net under the roll up mattress and put my Safari hat on top of this work of art.

Everybody constructed his own mosy-net protected sleeping place.

Then we sat around the camp fire and stared into the descending night.

Stars appeared and the moon rose.

I could not believe that I was actually there.

Kelvin asked: „Does anybody know the legend of the Nyaminyami“ ?

„I don't even know how to spell it“ I replied.... everybody laughed and finally only Kel knew not only how to spell it, but he actually knew the legend.

Kelvin told the story of this river god and his wife .

The Tonga people who lived along the river and built their houses on stilts believe in this fable religiously.

The fable goes like this:

Unfortunately at this point I fell asleep tired from sitting in a canoe most of the day, from paddling and mostly from the sun beating down.

I slept the whole night through and when next morning, John told me of the grunting of the hippos and the distant roaring of a lion, I knew that I had not only dreamt about it.

In two soft sided plastic buckets Otto brought water from the deep flowing river.

Enough water for tea and then enough for everybody to wash the sleep out of their eyes.

After breakfast of bacon and scrambled eggs and tea, we pushed the canoes into the water and once more we floated down the quiet river.

On the shores of the Zambezi

.... the first impression I had...

the "mosy-net" draped over a fully extended tripod..

Overnight camp site.

He must have been the one who left his foot prints.