From the shore I gazed out towards the magnificent cast iron bridge spanning the great breadth of the river. The old part of the city, lit up by streetlights, emanated a warm light reflected in the calm but steady flowing river. The whirling of the wind dancing around me, intermingled with the gentle sound of running water. Entranced by the soft glow of distant lamps I looked out yonder towards the old city. It seemed the bridge and city were connected by the impulsive drive of mankind to surge forward towards the future while establishing a tenuous hold with the past. For long moments I stared out from under the embrace of this magnificent steel structure. My thoughts were entranced and calmed by the golden glow upon mysterious waters.
Waking long the narrow meandering path, I was pleasantly surprised as it suddenly opened up into a wide thoroughfare. A delightful scene unfolded before my very eyes. A radiant yellow window decorated with blue wooden panes set against red bouquets of flowers adorning window sills, contrasted brilliantly with the sandstone coloured archaic wall and blue tinged cobble stone street. I stood still admiring this elegant beautifully decorated facade. In childlike wonder I thought “What would life in this town been like?” In deep reverie, I imagined a time long past, where the sound of horses hooves plodding along the cobblestones mingled with the clamour of shop keepers bartering their wares, and peasants going about their daily chores, as travelling musicians enchanted their audiences with stories and tunes to soothe the soul.
Winding my way along the banks of the crystalline lake flanked at the doorstep of this beautiful French alpine town, I came across a wrought iron bridge. Simple and stoic in architecture it nevertheless bore testimony to the elegant creative beauty of the past. The cool autumn air was invigorating. Somewhere in the distance the call of birds permeated the air. Upon the still water, a line of pure white swans slowly swum upstream. In reverie, I pondered the beauty of silence and simplicity, a treasure often buried amidst the thick layer of dust of our everyday lives.
The narrow village paths, lined with archaic facades and vibrant bouquets adorned the decaying medieval walls, straddled the river meandering through the centre of this picturesque town. Nestled at the footsteps of the Alps, a ring of forested mountains, complemented by a crystal clear lake embraced this medieval paradise. Cobble stone streets, castles and cathedrals connected by secret passageways plunged one literally into the tales and story books of ones childhood. I stood in a silent reverie as flamboyant characters such as Molière and D’Artagnan suddenly come to life.
The numerous buildings with their colourful facades along decaying medieval walls straddled the meandering cobblestone path of this picturesque town. Archaic castles, cathedrals and merchant shops with their hidden passageways plunged one literally into the tales and story books of ones childhood, manifesting the sophistication and elegance of French Culture.
There is a unique allure about the Greek Islands. Uncomplicated, yet full of elegance and sophistication, the inherent natural beauty and rich culture are perfectly complimented by the warmth and hospitality of its people.
Walking along the deserted street, I paused, admiring the mediterranean facades of earthy hues decaying yet defiant in their timeless beauty. Scarlet sandstone walls with elaborate coloured wooden doors contrasted brilliantly against well worn blue cobblestones. In the distance the ringing of Church bells, slowing brought me out of my reverie.
Climbing up a narrow cobblestone street towards the summit, the thought of exploring the unknown treasures of the island stirred my heart with childlike enthusiasm. Walking along, admiring the white washed buildings precariously hugging the cliff face, my attention was caught by a splash of colour. Located on the cliff face overlooking the ocean, almost hidden, was a stone building with its white washed walls and blue staircase. Pausing, I admired the simplistic and elegant beauty of an era that my heart deeply yearned for.
The smell of burning wood permeated the cool winters morning. Walking a few steps, I noticed a staircase. Archaic and worn with the passage of time it was nevertheless beautiful to behold in its antiquity. A flurry of activity suddenly caught my eye or was it merely an inner sense as I caught the momentary glimpse of a monks’ flowing robes. There was a profound stillness and aura of peace pervading the monastery. In deep reverie, the poignancy of the psalmist’s words stirred my soul.
“Be still and know that I am God…”
The little winding paved side street wound gently through the quaint picturesque town. I stopped by this gorgeous cafe arrayed in radiant colours with its bright green wooden door. The aroma of traditional Mediterranean food mingled with the melodic relaxing sound of music. Stepping inside, I glanced at the staff, whose genuine warm smiles and open hearts were ready to welcome a stranger with traditional Greek hospitality.
The morning air was fresh as I walked along the street winding its way down to the harbour. The sound of my muffled footsteps disappeared amidst the gentle splashing of distant waves. Suddenly, I stopped by a sand stone wall with a resplendent red door. The passing of centuries which had left their marks of decay, merely enhanced the simplistic, elegant beauty of this colourful facade.
The old town’s cobblestoned paths meandered through whitewashed buildings, ascending towards the cliff. Reaching the summit, I looked out towards the ocean, overwhelmed at how effortlessly the magnificent splendour of creation blended beautifully with the elegant creativity of mankind. A white staircase ascended towards an abandoned windmill, simple yet striking to behold. It was as if time had stopped, reminiscent of a bygone era uncomplicated, yet timeless in beauty.