This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 36-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC are in Istanbul, formerly known as Constantinople. We dropped in on the Basilica Cistern, an enormous underground chamber built in the sixth century as a place to store water. The cistern lies underneath the Hagia Sophia.
Word of the day
Baklava is a sweet made of layered phyllo pastry, nuts (pistachio, walnuts, or almonds), and honey. Many people cite the Ottoman Empire as the origin of baklava, which nicely gets around the vexed question of whether the dish originated in Turkey or Greece. No matter who first made baklava, it’s delicious.
The book I’m in
Dreams and Shadows, by C. Robert Cargill. A dark tale of faerie and mortality, with a dose of undreamed-of power and doomed love. C. Robert Cargill is a versatile author, well worth keeping an eye on.
Recommended restaurant
Karaköy Güllüoğlu, Istanbul. The best baklava in the world.
The photos
Me with baklava and coffee at Karaköy Güllüoğlu, Istanbul:
The Basilica Cistern is a huge cavern under the streets and buildings of Istanbul, used for storing water in Roman times:
The cistern is rectangular, 140 metres by 70 metres, giving it an area of 9,800 m². It can hold 80,000 cubic metres (17.5 million imperial gallons) of water. There was no water on the day we visited, although we felt drops falling from the ceiling at times. Evidently, when the cistern does contain water, visitors can see fish swimming through it.
The 336 supporting pillars differ in decoration and design. The next photo shows the Crying Column, or Pillar of Tears. Unlike the other pillars, this one is always wet. Legend has it that the pillar commemorates the hundreds of slaves who died while building the cistern:
Two of the pillars have the head of the Medusa at their base:
According to legend, the Medusa had snakes for hair and was horrific to look at. So horrific that people turned to stone if they gazed directly at her. Statues of her were placed around buildings for protection. The pillar above has the Medusa head lying on its side, whereas the pillar below has the head upside down:
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 36-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC spent a couple of days in Cappadocia, a region in central Turkey, exploring the town of Uçhisar and its surrounds.
Word of the day
A troglodyte is a cave dweller. The word also means old-fashioned or deliberately backward-looking.
The book I’m in
Dreams and Shadows, by C. Robert Cargill. A dark tale of faerie and mortality, with a dose of undreamed-of power and doomed love. C. Robert Cargill is a versatile author, well worth keeping an eye on.
Travel tip
Look out for the stray dogs that live in the streets. They’re usually docile and friendly, but can become territorial at night.
Recommended accommodation
Art Residence Cappadocia, from host Derya with Airbnb. A luxurious cave dwelling built into the rock face above Pigeon Valley in Uçhisar.
Recommended restaurant
Muhterif, Tekelli, Belediye Meydanı No: 3, 50240 Uçhisar. Good food, very friendly and professional service. One of the photos below shows a the clay pots in which a beef dish arrived.
The photos
Peg’s one job is to support me on my travels, especially in case of wind. Sometimes Peg gets it wrong. Me doing a faceplant:
Once more, with feeling. Here’s yours truly, Mark Wordsworm, with Pigeon Valley on the right of the photo and Uçhisar Castle on the left:
The settlement of Uçhisar stretches up the hill to the castle:
Clay pots and ribbons decorate a tree above Pigeon Valley, with a bird or two hiding in plain sight:
The Turkish flag glows in the late sun:
Looking down the winding road that leads from Uçhisar into the valley:
Old and less old:
Ruins of various ages offer photographic opportunities:
This worm was not the only creature exploring the terrain. Meet Dagbert the darkling beetle:
Dagbert warned me to avoid the Guineafowl prowling in search of an easy bite:
Tractors and other working vehicles traverse the narrow roads too. If you’re driving, be prepared to reverse uphill a long way if you encounter a vehicle coming in the opposite direction to yourself!
Fairy chimneys and cave dwellings cluster at one end of Pigeon Valley below Uçhisar, with hot air balloons rising in the early morning sky:
The strange pointy hills are knows as fairy chimneys. They’re formed from a type of volcanic rock called tuff. A long, long time ago, before even this worm was in the world, volcanic eruptions spewed up ash that formed a thick layer on the surface of the earth. The ash compacted and hardened into tuff. Thousands of years of wind and water wore away the less durable material.
So, the pointy hills are made of tuff’s toughest stuff.
The next shot shows a closeup view of the tallest of the fairy chimneys in this area. The fairy chimneys were hollowed out to create tombs during the Roman period, any time from the third century BC to the early AD centuries:
Cave dwellings abound in the area. Some were built in the Roman period (third to fourth centuries AD) by Christians who came to the area to flee the Romans, and found that digging into the soft rock was an easy and convenient way to build solid, cool homes. People have been excavating homes in the rock for centuries, so it’s hard to know how old a specific cave is.
Some of the cave dwellings are easily accessible, in that they’re at ground level and unsupervised. It’s a bit of a scramble over rough terrain to get to them, and the grass hides unexpected deep holes and caverns, so be careful. Here’s a view inside a cave dwelling:
It’s surprisingly roomy and sophisticated in there. Another room in the same dwelling:
People also carve out pigeon houses in the tuff, and have been doing so for thousands of years. Farmers use the pigeons as a source of fertilizer as well as food:
To finish, enjoy a cheery shot of the flaming clay pots in which a beef dish is served at Muhterif restaurant in Uçhisar:
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 36-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC are in in Uçhisar, a small town in Cappadocia, Turkey. I was standing near a small lavender-like bush, admiring the scene of fairy chimneys and rock dwellings spread out below me, when a tiny creature shot by. On closer acquaintance, this worm approves the creature’s form and looks to his own metamorphosis. Rest assured though, dear reader, that such a change is still beyond the horizon.
The photos
Me in front of the lavender-like bush, scene of the strange encounter:
Those pointy hills in the background are the so-called fairy chimneys characteristic of this part of the world. The TC, bless her cotton socks, coined the term bubble hills before being told the correct popular name for this geological formation.
With this imposing scene as backdrop, a curious flying creature made its appearance. Its wings moved so fast they were but a blur. Its brightly-marked body hung almost motionless, suspended in time and space.
Here’s a ten-second video showing a side view of the intriguing creature:
Is it a bird? Is it a bee? The next video is slightly longer, and shows the creature from behind as well as from the side:
A bit of investigation revealed that it’s a hummingbird hawk-moth, also called a bee moth:
So, no beak. That’s a bit of a relief for this worm! Instead, the moth has a long proboscis for dipping into a flower to suck up nectar:
Rather an elegant creature, don’t you think? Perhaps when this worm (or caterpillar, as I may be) decides to metamorphose, I’ll choose a similar form.
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 36-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC recently spent a few days in Prague. We climbed the hill to visit St Vitus Cathedral, which is tucked somewhat uncomfortably inside the walls of Prague castle. The cathedral is well worth the visit.
Word of the day
St Vitus’ Dance (three words for the price of one, dear reader!) is the colloquial name for a neurological disorder named Sydenham’s chorea. The illness causes people to move jerkily and suffer involuntary movements in various parts of the body. It’s named St Vitus’ Dance because in olden times people used to call on St Vitus to lessen the suffering of people with epilepsy. St Vitus is the patron saint of dancers and actors as well as epileptics. He can also ward of insomnia. A multi-talented saint!
The book I’m in
Semiosis, by Sue Burke. Man meets plant on a planet far away, some time in the not-too-distant future. Your faithful bookworm highly recommends this book. It feeds the intellect and entertains the mind.
Travel tip
Arrive early, and stand in line for entry even before the doors of the cathedral open. The crowds can be intense.
Recommended accommodation
Vienna House Andel’s Prague, Stroupežnického 21, 150 00 Praha 5-Smíchov. Elegance and comfort combined.
The photos
You may notice the lack of a photo of me, dear reader. Despair not, but examine my other Prague posts to see this worm’s handsome visage.
On entry into the courtyard of Prague Castle, the towers of St Vitus Cathedral loom high above you. The castle wall is so close that the TC could not step far enough back to get all of the height into the photo. The first photo shows the two towers on the cathedral’s western facade, below which is the main entrance to the cathedral:
Another face of the cathedral:
Gargoyles leer from the cathedral walls:
Inside the cathedral, baroque intricacy and the simplicity of stone combine to feast the eye. The next photo shows the main nave:
Stained glass windows glow with colour:
The sumptuous silver tomb of St John of Nepomuk:
The tomb contains two tonnes of silver, guarded by silver angels high above:
From the opposite wall, a supplicant leans:
The chapel of St Wenceslas, patron saint of Bohemia, has walls lined with golden panels inset with precious stones, paintings, and frescoes:
The Baroque pipe organ looks as if it should make a magnificent sound. A little bird told this worm that they’re planning to build a new organ this year (2019), but I don’t know if it’s installed yet:
This impressive mural is surrounded by an array of skulls and six- and eight-pointed stars. I think the painting depicts the assumption of Mary. Do let me know if that’s not right:
A view of Prague from the castle:
Towards the middle right of the above photo is Charles bridge, which you can read about in a previous post of mine.
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 36-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC recently spent a few days in Prague. While there, we saw the Charles Bridge (Karlův most) from the water and the land.
Word of the day
Most is the Czech word for bridge. Knowing that helps when you’re reading signposts and maps.
The book I’m in
Semiosis, by Sue Burke. Man meets plant on a planet far away, some time in the not-too-distant future. Your faithful bookworm highly recommends this book. It feeds the intellect and entertains the mind.
Travel tip
Visit the bridge early in the day or out of season. It can get pretty busy.
Recommended accommodation
Vienna House Andel’s Prague, Stroupežnického 21, 150 00 Praha 5-Smíchov. Elegance and comfort combined.
The photos
Me on my way to Charles Bridge (Karlův most) in Prague:
Me and the TC took a boat trip up the Vltava river on morning. That’s an L not an i in Vltava. Evidently the name comes from the Old Germanic wilt ahwa, which means wild water. The Vltava river runs through the centre of Prague. Eighteen bridges cross the river in the city. One of them is the historic Charles Bridge, seen here from aboard the boat:
We crossed the bridge on foot on another day. Approaching the bridge on the east bank:
From where we stood on the old city side of the bridge, the western riverbank beckoned:
In the glow of early evening, we walked through the arch of an imposing tower that leads onto the bridge:
Crossing the bridge watched over by an array of saints:
One of the saints was executed by being thrown off the bridge into the river. Parts of the decorative plaques at the base of his statue have been rubbed to a gleam by passers by. Touching the plaques is supposed to bring good luck. It looks as if a spotlight is shining on the images:
As usual, Jonathan has found a spot to show off his glamour:
An archway at the western end of the bridge glows with promise:
Through the archway into a warren of picturesque streets like this one:
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 36-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC dropped in on the Old Town Square in Prague. The square is a cobbled area surrounded by gorgeous buildings. The feeling is more open than many town squares in Europe. Grandeur and antiquity are there to see, but are not overpowering.
Word of the day
Astronomical clock (yes, dear reader, it’s two words for the price of one) is the term of the day. In addition to the time of day, an astronomical clock displays information such as the relative positions of the sun, moon, and major planets. The clock may also represent the year as a display of the 12 signs of the zodiac.
The book I’m in
Semiosis, by Sue Burke. Man meets plant on a planet far away, some time in the not-too-distant future. Your faithful bookworm highly recommends this book. It feeds the intellect and entertains the mind.
Recommended accommodation
Vienna House Andel’s Prague, Stroupežnického 21, 150 00 Praha 5-Smíchov. Elegance and comfort combined.
The photos
Me and a Prague lamp post. It’s nowhere near the Old Town Square:
The Old Town Square in Prague is more than a thousand years old. It started out as a marketplace in the tenth century. In the centre of the square is a statue of a Czech theologian, Jan Hus, erected in 1915 to commemorate the 500th anniversary of his death. He was burned at the stake in 1415 as punishment for his reformist beliefs:
Jan Hus met his end in the city of Constance, not in Prague. But the Old Town Square can tell its own tales of woe as well as joy. It’s seen festivities, tragedies, cheesecakes, executions, buskers, and soldiers.
Looking at the Old Town Hall at the south west corner of the square, you may think that the building seems out of balance and ends rather abruptly on the right hand side below the tower. You’re right, dear reader. A large part of the building was destroyed during World War II:
On one side of the town hall’s clock tower is the oldest working astronomical clock in the world, and the third oldest in existence. The clock was installed in 1410:
Next to the clock is the entrance to the Old Town Hall, a Gothic-style portal:
The door leads to an entrance hall decorated with mosaics related to Czech mythology:
The same entrance hall seen from another angle:
As I mentioned earlier, most of one wing of the town hall was destroyed during the Second World War. Below is a shot of the large window that covers the gap where the rest of the building used to be. What does the image on the window look like to you, dear reader? This worm saw it as a palm tree blown by the wind, Hawaii style. It’s more likely to be a flower, as there are very few palm trees in Prague. I couldn’t find any information about this window:
A characteristic of the Old Town Hall is that it’s made up of old houses purchased and merged to form the single large building that is now the town hall. The Minute House (House at the Minute) was built in the 15th century, in the Gothic style. Franz Kafka lived in this house from 1889 to 1896, until the house became part of the town hall in 1896. The sgraffito designs on the outside of the building depict classical and biblical themes:
In the same area is Štorch House, built in the Gothic style in the fifteenth century, and redecorated in the neo-Renaissance style in 1897. The painting on the front is etched into the wall, showing St Wenceslas, patron saint of Bohemia:
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 36-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Prague is a city of patterns. In particular for a personage like your faithful worm, who spends much time significantly near the ground, the paving stones are a source of pleasure. Ornate doorways, stamped lamp posts, and patterned walls add to the local colour.
The punctuation mark of the day
It goes almost without saying, dear reader, that the Mark of the day is yours truly, Mark Wordsworm. However, we have room to discuss other marks too.
Good punctuation is a delight to the refined taste of a bookworm. Every now and then, this worm encounters an unusual piece that whets the appetite. Today’s mark is an inverted apostrophe:
The hotel that owns the above sign consistently uses the punctuation mark in the same way. It’s a defining mark of the brand:
One must wonder if the mark is a misplaced single quote or a genuinely unusual apostrophe. Perhaps no-one will ever know.
The book I’m in
Semiosis, by Sue Burke. Man meets plant on a planet far away, some time in the not-too-distant future. Your faithful bookworm highly recommends this book. It feeds the intellect and entertains the mind.
Recommended accommodation
Vienna House Andel’s Prague, Stroupežnického 21, 150 00 Praha 5-Smíchov. Elegance and comfort combined.
The photos
Me on a piece of paving in Prague:
Paving is a big part of the city. The stones are pleasing to the eye but a little tough on the feet. In the wee hours, early travellers dragging their roller-wheeled suitcases make an inordinate amount of noise.
A plethora of paving:
The stones, when upturned, are not as flat as you may expect:
The denizens of Prague delight in decorated doorways:
When doorways don’t suffice, people decorate entire buildings. The next picture shows me up against a Renaissance sgraffito panel on the facade of the Schwarzenberg Palace:
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 36-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Prague has long been on the TC’s bucket list, bless her cotton socks. And we made it! This post is an account of our visit to the Wallenstein Palace, which currently houses the Czech Senate.
Word of the day
Semiosis is the process that goes on in our brains when we convert a sign to a meaning. The sign is usually related to language, and can be something like a spoken word, a written word, a traffic signal, and so on.
The book I’m in
Semiosis, by Sue Burke. Man meets plant on a planet far away, some time in the not-too-distant future. Your faithful bookworm highly recommends this book. It feeds the intellect and entertains the mind.
Recommended accommodation
Vienna House Andel’s Prague, Stroupežnického 21, 150 00 Praha 5-Smíchov. Elegance and comfort combined.
The photos
Me and a wolf-bearer in the gardens of the Senate of the Czech Republic. We’re standing in front of the famous dripstone wall that guards one side of the grounds:
The gardens of the Wallenstein Palace are open to the public. The TC and I wandered in quite by chance and stayed to explore. The palace was built in 1623-1630 as the home for a powerful military leader and duke, Albrecht von Wallenstein. Alas, he only lived in the palace for one year before being assassinated.
A view of the gardens looking towards the palace main hall:
The open hallway at the far end of the gardens, known as the main hall of the palace, contains a plaque announcing the Senate of the Czech Republic. The blue flags on either side celebrate 30 years since the end of Communist rule:
Below is a section of the hall’s highly decorative ceiling. The middle fresco shows Albrecht von Wallenstein as the god of war in a horse-drawn chariot:
And this is what you’ve no doubt been waiting for, dear reader: more of the famous dripstone wall. At first glance, this worm assumed the wall was a modern addition, but it’s part of the original Baroque complex that houses the palace. Seen from afar, the bits and pieces of the wall look like skulls. As you get closer, you realize they don’t represent anything in particular. The designer’s goal was to make you peer and wonder. In some places, it seems as if you should be able to peek through the outer layer into hidden chambers beyond. But when you get close, there’s nothing to see. Eery and grotesque:
This plaque stands in front of the wall to describe the wall and its purpose:
A peacock wonders whether it’s greener on the other side. She hopped over the hedge just after the photo was taken:
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 36-year-old bookmark (give or take a few years) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Today’s a red letter day, for no other reason than that I’ve decided to update my age after checking the date of my first post on this blog, My very first post was on 25 April 2008, titled The red centre. At that time, I judged myself to be 25 years old. Today, just over 11 years later, it seems like a good time for an update. I’m 36 years old, give or take a few years. Happy new age to me.
But now, on to the topic of my latest travel adventures. Me and the TC spent last weekend on Magnetic Island, a tropical island in North Queensland.
The book I’m in
The Wrath of Angels, by John Connolly. A fast-paced mix of murder, mystery, and fallen angels, featuring private detective Charlie Parker.
Recommended accommodation
Island Leisure Resort, 6 Kelly Street, Nelly Bay. The rooms are spacious, comfortable and clean, and the staff are friendly. There’s a swimming pool and a tennis court, and a games room with table tennis and pool tables. Accompanied by great hilarity, the TC rediscovered her mediocrity at both of the last-mentioned.
The photos
Me and an art piece created by sea and wind, on a beach at the north-west end of Magnetic Island:
The vegetation on the island was lush and green, at least in comparison to many parts of Australia. This photo shows the same beach at the quiet north-western end of the island:
Denizens of the beach included super-fast, nigh-invisible crabs. In the following picture, the crab is on the left. At top right is a mound with a hole in it, probably the entrance to a crab palace:
Jonathan was there too. The presence of Jonathan and his mates constitutes good cause for the crab’s camouflage and speed:
The drive to the beach takes you along a dirt road, crossed by gullies and fords, surrounded by dense Australian bush. A four-wheel drive is useful. Here I am, your dauntless travel guide, surveying a pretty scene along the route:
Mangroves decorated a creek that crossed the road, where we spotted some pretty fish and crabs (not in the photo):
On the other side of the island, to the north east, a World War II fort and its out houses are valiantly fighting off the encroaching bush. Click this image to zoom in:
To get to the fort, the TC followed a winding bush track. The path is about four kilometres for the round trip, and takes about two hours. I stayed comfortably in my book in her bag, ready to hop out for each view and photo opportunity.
Here’s the fort’s lookout building seen from another angle as we approached the fort complex:
To get to the lookout, we climbed a series of stone steps and metal ladders. The TC did a good job, even hopping up onto the final platform inside the top room to see the view through the plane/ship-spotters slot in the wall. This shot shows an equally bold fellow traveller gazing out through the slot:
The views from the walk up to the fort had the TC ooh-ing and aah-ing:
Arthur Bay looks enticing from above. We didn’t get the opportunity to visit it on this trip:
This worm was intrigued to note possible signs of activity by fellow worms. On various parts of Magnetic Island, including the fort walk, we saw bunches of leaves glued together with web:
Could this be the work of a caterpillar like that of the fall webworm or tent caterpillar, which create nests of silk? Looking closer, we noticed ants on the leaf bunches. I’ve since done some research and discovered that these are green tree ants, a type of weaver ant. The adult ants gather in large numbers and pull the leaves together. Then they bring an ant larva, which produces the web to hold the leaves in place:
Below is a slightly fuzzy zoomed-in section of the photo, where you can see a few of the ants:
The TC was curious and leaned in close to examine one of the leaf bunches, as did her two companions. Seconds later, they noticed lines of ants moving down the tree trunk and up their legs. They all jumped away and started stamping their feet in an effort to dislodge the ants. This curious but typical reaction is known by locals as the green ant dance. Poor TC, she does have a knack for getting herself into a pickle.
The guide books promised that we’d see wild koala on the walk up to the fort, and we did. It was as if someone put a cuddly toy up in a tree:
Mostly these wise creatures sleep all day, but this one needed to shift position:
Also interesting, though perhaps not as cuddly, was this deep red mushroom on the side of the walking track:
Another aspect of Magnetic Island that had the TC ooh-ing and aah-ing was the birdlife. For obvious reasons, this worm is not that fond of birds (Jonathan excepted). As a teaser for readers who’re keen on our feathered fiends, below is a clump of Rainbow Bee-eaters:
They say trouble comes in threes. Here’s another bird clump, this time of Woodswallows:
This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 25-year-old bookmark (I haven’t aged at all since I first wrote this introduction) and I proudly boast my own Hallmark serial number, 95 HBM 80-1. You’ll probably want to read all about me and my Travelling Companion (the TC).
Today’s travel notes
Me and the TC find ourselves in Denver, Colorado, city of fast-changing weather and friendly folks.
The book I’m in
Record of a Spaceborn Few, book 3 in the Wayfarers series by Becky Chambers. I’ve just extracted myself from this book, but I feel as if I’m still cosily tucked between its leaves. Figuratively speaking, that is, since the TC read the book on her Kindle. Becky Chambers draws the reader a warm picture of life among family, friends, and colleagues, where the individuals concerned are sapient beings of various types and in various situations. Highly recommended.
The photos
Me hitching a ride on one of the cows that hang out on Denver’s 16th Street Mall:
The 16th Street Mall is a pedestrian walkway that runs for about a mile through downtown Denver. It was designed by an architect named I.M. Pei. This shot of the mall shows one of the shuttle buses that offer free rides from one end of the mall to the other:
The road is paved in a pattern of red, white and gray granite slabs. If you hover high above them, evidently the pattern reminds you of the skin of a diamondback rattlesnake. Hovering is not a talent of your faithful worm, so I missed this resemblance.
An innovative design for a table, on the 16th Street Mall in Denver. Even when there’s no-one sitting at the bench, it looks like a happy place to be:
Another cow on the mall. When I got up close, this one whispered to me the name of my home town. Nice beast!
Just off the mall is the Colorado Convention Center, with this cute little bear peering through the window:
The blue bear, created by Lawrence Argent, is 40 feet high. Not so small, really, when you compare it to my own height. You should, however, take into account that I’m practically-speaking two-dimensional. Height has a different meaning in my dimensions. Here’s a pic of me getting reasonably close to the bear. For safety’s sake I stayed under the cover of a tree:
A couple of banks on 17th Street caught my attention. This is the door of the Denver National Bank:
The imposing building of the Colorado National Bank:
Union Station adds colour and structure to a bright blue sky:
Inside Union Station:
A beauteous butterfly at the door to the station. Your faithful worm would have liked to meet the caterpillar that formed this creature:
Travelling Worm 