Travelling Worm

A bookworm's travelogue

Category: travel

  • From Tralee to Dingle via Caherconree Scenic Route and Conor Pass

    This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 40-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 currently riding out Storm Agnes on the west coast of Ireland. This worm is taking the opportunity to write up some travel notes. My first Irish post was about Blennerville and the mystery of Robert Emmet’s grave. Now I’m going to tell you about yesterday’s drive from Tralee to Dingle, taking the scenic route via Camp, Caherconree, and Inch Beach. We then took the route over Conor Pass back to Tralee.

    The book I’m in

    Darknet, by Matthew Maher. The TC started this book once before, and abandoned it because the writing style is a little naive and there are some typographical errors. However, the TC-once-removed has persuaded her to try it again. So far, this bookworm approves the choice.

    Travel tips

    Go mall is not a direction to the nearest shopping centre. It means go slowly.

    The photos

    Me in Tralee, sprouting a pair of pink wings. Relax, dear reader, they’re not real. My metamorphosis is some way off yet:

    The town of Tralee is a good place to stay if you’re planning to spend a couple of days exploring Ireland’s west coast. We’re lodged just outside the town, near the village of Blennerville. From there, we set out one fine afternoon to see part of the Dingle peninsula.

    We branched off from the main thoroughfare (N86) at Camp and took the Caherconree scenic route. This is a gorgeous, single-track road through the mountains. Tumbling rivers and sure-footed sheep lined the way:

    Upon reaching the southern coast of the Dingle peninsula, we headed towards Inch Beach. The TC, bless her cotton socks, had harboured romantic notions of dipping her toes into frilly waves on a golden shore cooled by a playful breeze. Instead, we encountered a somewhat fierce beach with a banshee wind and but two hardy souls venturing into the salty surf:

    Dingle is a pretty sea-side town:

    Signs and names come in Irish and English:

    Leaving Dingle, the road heads through green fields and hedgerows:

    Little wonder that Ireland is named the Emerald Isle. The theme of green runs through hill and vale:

    We made our way up to Conor Pass. At 1,496 feet (about 455 metres), this is one of the highest paved passes in Ireland. The views occasioned the necessary ooohs and aaahs from the TC:

    More of those sure-footed sheep braved the drop at the top of Conor Pass:

    As a memento of these dauntless hill-trotters, the TC invited Sherbet the Sheep to join our flock of travelling companions.

    Sherbet’s first home was this booth at the top of Conor Pass:

    Peg was delighted to welcome Sherbet to the fold, once I’d assuaged Peg’s jealous streak by letting her be in the forefront of the shot (without, of course, mentioning who’d be in focus):

    That’s all for today, folks.

  • Blennerville and the mystery of Robert Emmet’s burial place

    This is the blog of Mark Wordsworm, the travelling worm. I’m a 40-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 lodged close to the village of Blennerville on the west coast of Ireland. Let me spin you a yarn of happenstance and mystery concerning the romantic Irish hero Robert Emmet, his burial place, and one of his present-day family members.

    The book I’m in

    Stormswift, by Madeleine Brent. This author writes adventure stories about young heroines dragging themselves out of impossible situations by dint of courage, strength, and hard-won skills. Despite the dire subject matter, the novels are curiously calming.

    Travel tips

    Don’t go looking, and you will find.

    The photos

    While taking a constitutional stroll in the area of Blennervile with me and the TC, the TC’s partner stopped short in his tracks and stared at a notice on the wall of a small park. The notice said, Páirc Riobáird Emmet. The park was dedicated to Robert Emmet, known in Ireland as “The Patriot”.

    At this point in my story, it’s necessary to take a step back and explain a few things. The TC’s parter, henceforth to be called the TC-once-removed, has down the years heard tales from his mother of his familial connection to one Robert Emmet. The latter is an Irish hero from the days of the 1803 rebellion against British rule. Emmet inspired and led the uprising, which didn’t go well. Emmet was later tried for high treason, found guilty, and alas executed.

    Back to our stroll on this fateful day. We had no plans to research the history of Robert Emmet. Indeed, we had no idea that we found ourselves in a place of significance with respect to that history. In addition, our decision to take a walk that morning, and indeed to take that particular route, was entirely random.

    So, when the TC-once-removed saw the notice declaring a park dedicated to his forebear, he was flabbergasted. And not a little delighted.

    Robert Emmet was hanged in Dublin in September 1803. The hangman then removed Emmet’s head and showed it to the people, saying “This is the head of a traitor, Robert Emmet”.

    This worm promised you a mystery, and here it comes. What happened to Robert Emmet’s body? The remains were first taken to Newgate Prison and then back to Kilmainham Gaol in Dublin. He was then buried in Bully’s Acre, a public cemetry in Dublin. However, it’s widely believed that his body was removed secretly and buried elsewhere. But where?

    Páirc Riobáird Emmet in Blennerville is but one of several places that claim to be the hero’s final resting place. Emmet is a descendant of the Blennerhassett family. Blennerville village was once the Blennerhassett estate village. According to local tradition, Robert Emmet was laid to rest in an unmarked grave under the back porch of St Anne’s Church, which once stood where the park is now located. The church was demolished in 1930.

    Over the years, many people have searched unsuccessfully for the hero’s body. Robert Emmet’s supporters have a saying: “Do not look for him. His grave is Ireland”.

    Leaving Páirc Riobáird Emmet behind us:

    We strolled further along the road to Blennerville and came across the windmill:

    Greys on greys, and a splotch of yellow from a person dressed for the weather:

    Just beyond the windmill is Blennerville Bridge, with its views of the River Lee and the flats as the river opens into the Atlantic Ocean. The inclement weather provided us with a rainbow:

    Jonathan was there:

    Jonathan had brought a couple of mates to explore the flats: an Oystercatcher with a muddy beak:

    A young Little Blue Heron with green legs:

    Heading off with a definite purpose in mind:

    On that note, we continued our stroll. Here’s a scene from one of the streets in Blennerville:

    That’s all for today, folks.

  • Hadrian’s Wall at Walltown Quarry, Greenhead

    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 visited part of Hadrian’s Wall yesterday. The wall is more than 70 miles long, so we had to choose our viewing point. We chose Walltown Quarry, near the village of Greenhead in Northumberland. The beautiful countryside provided a spectacular backdrop for the remnants of the wall.

    The book I’m in

    Stormswift, by Madeleine Brent. This author writes adventure stories about young heroines dragging themselves out of impossible situations by dint of courage, strength, and hard-won skills. Despite the dire subject matter, the novels are curiously calming.

    Travel tips

    Drive the A68 through Northumberland and into Scotland. It’s one of the most beautiful drives in the world, passing through restful grey-stone villages and meandering over rolling green hills dotted with sheep and cattle.

    The photos

    Me and Peg on Hadrian’s Wall:

    Devoted readers will no doubt remark on Peg’s re-appearance on this blog. She took a long break from travelling, but is now back in full force. Expect to see her holding up her end of the tale again in this and future posts!

    This part of the wall stands atop a high cliff above the stone quarry at Walltown. Here’s a long shot of the cliff topped by the wall:

    The path up to the cliff face is guarded by a fearsome ogre. This worm stayed tucked in the TC’s book while we crept by, managing to get past before the ogre emerged fully from its lair:

    Once we’d safely passed the slumbering ogre, me and Peg took a breather on the Walltown bench before making the final ascent to Hadrian’s Wall:

    Wild flowers marked the route:

    Drops from the recent rainfall sparkled on flower and leaf:

    Raindrops decorated the spiderwebs too:

    At the top of the cliff, Hadrian’s Wall runs over green velvet hills:

    The wall was built by the Roman emperor Hadrian in the second century AD, to draw a line of defence between the south of Britain, controlled by Romans, and the unconquered area to the north, roamed by the fierce Scottish clans. The wall stretches across Britain, from Wallsend on the River Tyne in the east to Bowness-on-Solway in the west.

    Adventurous souls took the high road:

    This worm found a new friend, who goes by the name of Bluebell. She confided in me that some call her Wall Flower, but she discourages that name with all her might. Me and Bluebell at her home atop Hadrian’s Wall:

    Wild flowers grab a handhold on the rocks near the wall:

    Lichen adorns the stones on the pathway back down the hill:

    And drips off the branches of the plants:

    The Walltown Quarry Pond:

    The stone dug out at Walltown Quarry was used primarily as chippings for surfacing roads. The quarry opened in 1876 and closed in 1976. After it closed, the land was filled in and landscaped to form the Walltown Country Park.

    Here’s a parting shot of Hadrian’s Wall from across the quarry pond:

    That’s all for today, folks.

  • Dunfermline Abbey and City Chambers, Scotland

    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 few hours in Dunfermline this week. Dunfermline is a city in the county of Fife, Scotland, about three miles from the Firth of Forth. (This worm wrote about the bridges over the Firth of Forth in a previous post.)

    The book I’m in

    Imminent Peril, a Sasha McCandless adventure by Melissa F. Miller. The TC loves this series about a lawyer detective who attracts trouble and deals with it fearlessly.

    Travel tips

    Park as soon as you find a spot that’s close enough to your destination.

    The photos

    Looking across the rooftops to the Dunfirmline City Chambers:

    Dunfirmline City Chambers was built in the late 1870s. It combines French, Gothic and Scots baronial architectural styles into a pleasing medley. The clock tower stands out as a feature of the town.

    The clock caused a bit of drama in November 2022, when one of its hands became loose during strong winds. The town closed the roads around the tower until the clock was rendered safe.

    This picture shows the building from the other side of a nearby grave yard:

    If you’re keen of eye, you might notice that the next picture shows a rare glimpse of the TC herself. It also includes a partial view of Abbot House, Dunfermline’s oldest house, known locally as the Pink Hoose:

    Dunfermline Abbey has been home to Christian worshippers for more than 1000 years:

    The building has two distinct halves. On the left of the picture (the western half) is the Benedictine Abbey, founded by Queen Margaret in the eleventh century. Margaret arrived in Dunfermline in 1068, following the defeat of the English at the Battle of Hastings in 1066. She married King Malcolm in 1070 and founded Dunfermline Abbey in 1072.

    On the right (the eastern half) is the New Abbey Church, constructed in the early nineteenth century. Robert the Bruce is buried under this half of the church. The letters that you see in the balustrade of the square tower spell out “BRUCE KING”.

    Here’s another view of the older part of the abbey:

    Inside the abbey, one of the arched ceilings still has the early frescoes of the apostles:

    More scenes from inside the old abbey:

    In the grounds of the abbey lie the ruins of the monastery that was built at around the same time as the old abbey, way back in the 1070s:

    That’s all for today, folks.

  • Bridges of Forth and Queensferry Crossing

    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 touring bonny Scotland this week. We spent a day in Queensferry on the Firth of Forth. This worm was much taken by the bridges that cross the wide waters of the firth.

    Is this stretch of water called the Forth of Firth or the Firth of Forth, you might ask? And what do those two words mean? The water’s name is the Firth of Forth. “Firth” is a Scottish word, of similar origin to the Norwegian “fjord”, meaning a coastal inlet. “Forth” is the name of the river.

    The book I’m in

    Imminent Peril, a Sasha McCandless adventure by Melissa F. Miller. The TC loves this series about a lawyer detective who attracts trouble and deals with it fearlessly.

    Travel tips

    Bridges carry us across areas that would otherwise be tricky. They can be beautiful and amazing feats of engineering too.

    Recommended restaurant

    Scott’s Bar and Restaurant, Port Edgar Marina, Shore Rd, Queensferry. Friendly, professional service and excellent food.

    The photos

    A rainbow appeared over the Forth Bridge while we were enjoying dinner in South Queensferry:

    Dating from its opening in 1890, the Forth Bridge is the oldest of three bridges that cross the firth at Queensferry. It’s used only by railway trains — no road traffic, cyclists, or pedestrians. Due to its revolutionary engineering, the Forth Bridge has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Until 1919, it was the world’s longest cantilever bridge (that is, a structure made of horizontal projections that are supported only at one end) and was heralded as the first major steel structure to be built anywhere in the world. In 1919, a bridge in Canada took over the claim to be the longest cantilever span in the world.

    The next picture shows all three bridges that cross the Firth of Forth at Queensferry. On the left is the Queensferry Crossing. In the middle is the Forth Road Bridge. And in the distance on the right is one end of the Forth Bridge:

    Here’s another view of the Forth Bridge, this time without the rainbow:

    We crossed the firth by car on the Queensferry Crossing Bridge. This is the newest of the three bridges. It opened in 2017. In the morning light, the clusters of cables around the bridge’s three towers glowed like white torches:

    As we drew closer, each glowing shaft of light resolved into multiple strands of cable:

    The third of the three bridges is the Forth Road Bridge, stretching across the river between the other two. It opened in 1964, and is an impressive long-span suspension bridge. Its use is now restricted to pedestrians, cyclists, and public transport. Here you see part of the Forth Road Bridge, with the Forth Bridge behind and below it:

    That’s all for today, folks.

  • Atop Table Mountain in the clouds

    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 few days recently in Cape Town, South Africa. A must-do is the trip via cable car to the top of Table Mountain. The day we’d scheduled for the outing dawned cloudy and cold. We went up the mountain anyway. The TC is like that. Tomorrow may never come, she opines, and even if it does, there’s no guarantee it’ll turn out better than today.

    The book I’m in

    A Slim Green Silence, by Beverly Rycroft. This is a beautifully-written and engaging read. The author melds Afrikaans phrases with English prose, and a dash of Xhosa here and there. For a reader who’s lived in South Africa, it’s a pleasure to experience through the book the mix of cultures in a small South African town.

    Travel tips

    If you have a clear day, use it to go up the mountain. Even if you don’t have a clear day, go up the mountain anyway.

    The photos

    Me among the fynbos atop Table Mountain:

    Fynbos is the name given to the vegetation in this area of Southern Africa. It’s uniquely hardy and beautiful, and it feeds and shelters the animals and birds of the mountain too.

    The next shot shows Table Mountain in all its splendour, photographed from The Waterfront at the Cape Town harbour. On the left of the photograph is the mountain named Devil’s Peak. In the middle is Table Mountain itself, with the hotels and docks of the Waterfront in the foreground. The hill on the right is Signal Hill:

    To get to the top of the mountain, we drove through the city, up Kloof Nek road through Tamboerskloof and Oranjezicht, until we reached the lower cable station. From that vantage point, we saw the city of Cape Town and suburbs laid out below us:

    The lower station was clear and sunny as we started our ride to the top:

    There are two cable cars, as you can deduce from the two housings in the station. They travel at the same time, one on its way up the mountain and the other on its way down.

    The ride up was lovely, though a little eerie when we entered the cloud layer and the rest of the world disappeared. We couldn’t even see the hulking huge mountain that was just outside the window. I’d show you a photo, but all you’d see is a blank wall of grey.

    What’s it like on the top of the mountain when cloud is rolling up from below? Watch this video to find out:

    On the western side of the mountain is the seaside suburb of Camps Bay:

    On the eastern side is Devil’s Peak and the suburb of Oranjezicht:

    A pinky orange lily poked above the rocks:

    An Orange-breasted Sunbird perched on an aloe:

    A couple of Red-winged Starlings flitted around us. Needless to say, yours truly stayed under cover while these formidable creatures had their beady eyes on us:

    Daisies did their level best to brighten up a grey day. That’s what daisies do:

    The top of Table Mountain really is flat. There are some good paths, especially on the front table near the top cable station:

    Due to the mist, we decided to restrict our trip to just the front table. On other trips, we’ve made the crossing to the back table and walked all the way to Maclear’s Beacon. That’s a round trip of a couple of hours, and we didn’t think it wise given the current low visibility. So, back to the top cable station.

    This picture shows both the top and the bottom cable stations. It gives a good idea of the steep trip ahead of us!

    The two cable cars pass each other, one on the way up and the other on the way down:

    Aboard the cable car once more, we saw the cables descending into the cloud:

    On the way down, we passed the other cable car on its way up. Here’s a view taken from our cable car, showing the upper station in the mist behind the other car:

    Table Mountain is a natural wonder and a place of calm and beauty. Heed the words of a wise worm: It’s well worth a visit.

    That’s all for today, folks.

  • A few days in Zurich

    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 have spent the last couple of weeks in Zurich. It was largely a working trip for the TC. Spending time in a city as a working person is a different experience from being a tourist. We have, however, found the time to see a bit of the city too.

    The book I’m in

    Tell Me Lies, by J. P. Pomare. The TC has just started this book. I’m looking forward to digging in during the long trip home from Zurich to Sydney.

    Recommended restaurant

    Burgermeister, Oberdorfstrasse, Zurich. The restaurant offers take-away as well as dine-in meals. You order your food at the counter and collect it there too. The food comes quickly. It’s very tasty and of high quality.

    Travel tips

    Parking is complicated. Blue zones, white zones, time restrictions… Read up on it before you arrive.

    The photos

    Me surveying a complex-looking plug socket array in our Zurich accommodation:

    Swiss plugs differ from those in much of Europe. They have three prongs, with the middle one slightly offset.

    The lovely Limmat River runs through Zurich. This worm appreciated the river in its many moods:

    Scooters, bicycles, motorbikes, e-bikes — people use a variety of vehicles to move around the city:

    Winding alleys lead down into the old town:

    A city view from the Lindenhof on the western bank of the Limmat river:

    Another view of the city, this time from the university on the eastern side of the river:

    I’ll close with some multi-coloured berries on a creeping plant. It was autumn. The leaves were beginning to turn and the air was acquiring a chill. Berry season. The TC passed this wall every day on her walk into the office in Zurich:

    That’s all for today, folks.

  • Rhine Falls, the most powerful waterfall in Europe

    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

    Yesterday, me and the TC took a trip to the Rhine Falls (Rheinfall), the most power waterfall in Europe based on rate of flow. Although the Rhine Falls are in Switzerland, our train passed through a bit of Germany on the way there.

    The book I’m in

    Bleed for Me, by Michael Robotham. A good who-dunnit investigated by a flawed psychologist, a cop, and an ex-cop. This worm is eating through the book with great enjoyment.

    Travel tips

    There’s a good chance of getting damp, even if it’s not raining.

    The photos

    Me hanging out at the Rheinfall:

    Imagine you’re travelling down the Rhine, a leisurely ride on a boat, birds tweeting, sun shining, the gentle river flowing strong but smooth. Then, as you round a bend, suddenly there’s a roaring in the air and the river drops down by 23 metres right in front of you.

    Here’s what the Rhine Falls look and sound like from the river bank:

    A still view from the same spot:

    How small that yellow boat looks! Intrepid travellers can take a ride on one of these boats. Be prepared to get wet:

    The first viewing point is a short stroll from the train station, down a pretty street:

    I’ll close this post with another shot of yours truly at the local water spigot:

    That’s all for today, folks.

  • Chur, oldest city in Switzerland

    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

    If you have the chance, follow in this worm’s illustrious footsteps and visit the historic town of Chur in Switzerland. It’s one and a half hours by train from Zurich. Chur lays claim to being the oldest settlement in Switzerland, tracing its history as far back as 3500-3900 BCE.

    The book I’m in

    Bleed for Me, by Michael Robotham. A good who-dunnit investigated by a flawed psychologist, a cop, and an ex-cop. This worm is eating through the book with great enjoyment.

    Recommended restaurants

    We popped in for coffee and cake at Cafe Maron, near the Chur train station. The fare was delicious, the service was friendly, and the cafe was brimming with people.

    For lunch, we chose Vanessa’s Kitchen Fusion Bistro. Highly recommended for the quality of the food and the service.

    Travel tips

    Walk the streets of the old town. If golf is your cup of tea, do the Urban Golf Parcours in Chur. Urban golfers use soft balls, to avoid hurting people and damaging property. It’s a good way to see the city.

    The photos

    Me hanging out with a beautiful woman at a historic building in Chur:

    Until 1887, night watchmen used to roam the streets of Chur, calling out the hours of the evening watch. The placards on this building tell the story:

    The town hall (rathaus), with its medieval arches:

    A close-up of the entrance to the town hall:

    The opposite entrance of the town hall:

    The arched roof of a marketplace next to the town hall, currently a shelter for bicycles.

    Street scenes in the old town:

    The Cathedral of the Assumption is a place of beauty and quiet:

    A modern sticker on a mailbox, bringing the ugly to the sublime:

    The clock tower in Martinsplatz:

    At midday, the clock bell chimes the hour:

    The 2D room at Vanessa’s Kitchen Fusion Bistro, where we stopped for an excellent lunch:

    More street scenes:

    An imposing statue graces the square at the head office of the Graubünden Cantonal Bank — a man on stilts:

    The train journey from Zurich to Chur is worth a few pictures too. For much of the journey, the train travels along the banks of the lakes: Zurichsee, Obersee, and Walensee. Here’s one of the lakes in a less-than-sunny mood, with snow-bedecked peaks peeking out of the cloud:

    The smudging is the rain on the train window. Here are more snow-bedecked peaks, in a sunnier mood:

    I’ve remarked on the green felt effect of the Swiss countryside in earlier posts. Here’s more of it:

    That’s all for today, folks.

  • Medieval festival in Zug, Switzerland

    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 Switzerland. Today we travelled by train from Zurich to the small town of Zug, to see the annual medieval festival hosted by the town: the Mittelalterfest Zug.

    Here’s a nicety for people who’re intrigued by words, as is the TC: We travelled to Zug by Zug. How so? The town is called Zug. In German, a train is a Zug (including the initial capital letter, as in German all nouns are capitalised.) So, to Zug by Zug!

    The book I’m in

    Death’s End, by Cixin Liu, translated by Ken Liu. In the TC’s words (yours truly is by nature less effusive), this is a most amazing book. It’s part of the “three-body problem” series. Science fiction done right. Get a copy and read it!

    Travel tips

    Travelling by rail is pleasant, but figuring out how to buy the train tickets is complex. Give yourself plenty of time the first time you do it. Buying tickets from the vending machines at the station is the simplest option. The mobile app and website are overly complex.

    The photos

    Me in the refreshments area of the festival, contemplating the possibility of ale and vittles:

    As we wandered around the village, we came across people transacting their medieval business, seemingly unaware that they were in a time capsule that had been projected into the 21st century. These men were testing swords before an upcoming match:

    Some of the village folk were guards, fearsome in their protection of the gateways. It was not uncommon to hear the command, “Halt”, roared out loud to stop the crowds from getting in the way when a photo was in order. This much to the amusement of said crowd, which tittered and took more photos of said fearsome guards.

    Another fearsome guard photo opp:

    Knights in armour shone in splendour under the autumn sun:

    Bands and bards roamed the lanes. It was interesting to see a band member playing the bagpipes. I’d thought these were a Celtic tradition, but evidently Switzerland did have bagpipes in the middle ages, called the Schweizer Sackpfeife. Here’s a short video of the Schellmerÿ band playing at the festival:

    A bard enchanting the crowd:

    A beggar sat quietly in the shade:

    A dark witch floated above the road surface, eerily tall and smooth of gait. Aided by a segway under his robes:

    The town of Zug has some gorgeous buildings:

    Here’s another, forming one side of a village square:

    From the sublime to the ridiculous, a nose protrudes from a building on the same square:

    Taking a stroll down the hill, we came across the Zugersee:

    The TC, bless her cotton socks, was fascinated by the plants growing in the lake, twisting and twirling into SciFi shapes, then pushing little flowers up towards the light. “Like underwater daisies”, she exclaimed:

    That’s all for today, folks.