OF MICE AND raMEN

The Ham Shop That Stops You in Your Tracks

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Mon, 09 Nov 2026 04:00:57 +0000

One of the things I enjoy about wandering through Spanish cities is that you don't have to go looking for a food experience. Sometimes it simply appears in front of you.

In this case, it was an unassuming little shop selling ibéricos — those wonderfully Spanish cured meats — somewhere in the streets of Segovia.

The first thing that caught my eye was the enormous cured ham hanging above the entrance. Then I noticed the rows of hams suspended inside the shop, almost like a rather unusual chandelier. Through the window, there were shelves and counters piled with beautifully arranged slices of jamón, chorizo and other cured meats.

And clearly I wasn't the only person who had been tempted inside. There was already a small crowd gathered at the doorway, with people studying the displays and waiting to see what deliciousness was on offer.

I particularly like the way the shop looked against its surroundings. The old Segovian building had its ornate iron balcony, weathered walls and a wonderful tangle of overhead cables, while the smart dark-green storefront looked almost theatrical by comparison.

And then there was that €5.90 sign advertising a ham-filled baguette.

Suddenly, sightseeing seemed to have a very practical purpose. 😄

Segovia is, of course, well known for its food traditions, and Iberian ham and other cured meats are very much part of the gastronomic landscape of the province.

For me, this photograph is a little reminder of one of the pleasures of travelling: sometimes the most memorable discoveries aren't monuments or famous sights. They're the ordinary shops that make you stop, look through the window and wonder what everyone else has discovered.

And judging by the queue, this particular discovery involved jamón.

Silent Stories#12

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Thu, 05 Nov 2026 00:51:35 +0000

The effigy of Sir John de Montacute, 1st Baron Montagu, is a remarkable medieval sandstone funerary monument located in Wiltshire, England.

Key Features of the Effigy

Design: It consists of a recumbent, highly detailed stone sculpture of a knight, resting atop a tomb chest decorated with tracery.
Attitude: Sir John is depicted lying face upwards, with his hands clasped together in the traditional pose of prayer.
Armour and Costume: He is dressed in full medieval armour typical of a knight of the period.
Unique Details: The monument is particularly notable for its representation of distinctive medieval armour details, including spiral lacing.

Context of the Monument

Sir John de Montacute was a prominent English nobleman and a loyal servant of King Edward III. He was associated with the military campaigns of the period, including the Siege of Calais. Although he died in 1390, the monument itself is believed to date from around the late 14th century. Detailed studies and illustrations of the effigy are preserved in historical records, including prints held by the British Museum.

The answer to my previous post's little mystery.

Mystery revealed!

Here's a wider view showing where it is.

A few of you came very close with your guesses.

The mystery photo was taken looking up at the decorative installation hanging in the atrium of Hotel Palma Kotor in Montenegro. From directly underneath, it creates an interesting optical illusion and almost looks like a giant wheel or umbrella.

Thanks to everyone who joined in the guessing!

Guess What This Is? 🤔

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Sun, 01 Nov 2026 01:43:14 +0000

Any idea what you're looking at? Take a good look at the photograph and have a guess. Where is this, and what is it? I’ll reveal the answer in my next post. 😉

Silent Stories#11

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Tue, 27 Oct 2026 14:57:38 +0000

The Kornmarkt-Madonna is a historic Marian fountain sculpture located in the center of the Kornmarkt square in Heidelberg's Old Town, Germany.

Key Details

Creation: Sculpted by Peter van den Branden in 1718.
Historical Context: Erected during the Counter-Reformation under Prince-Elector Charles III Philip (Karl Philipp), it aimed to re-Catholicize the predominantly Protestant Reformed population of Heidelberg.
Design: Depicts the Virgin Mary with a gilt crown and lily scepter, holding the Christ Child on a globe encircled by a snake slain with a cross-topped lance, all supported by putti on clouds.
Fountain Integration: Integrated into a relocated central fountain around 1830 and later modified with smaller shell-shaped basins.
Current Status: A replica made between 1938 and 1940 stands on the square today, while the original sculpture is housed in the Kurpfälzisches Museum.

Where in the World#2

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Fri, 23 Oct 2026 00:42:37 +0000

Welcome back to another round of Where in the World! 🌍

Usually, this is the part of the post where I challenge you to guess where a mystery travel photo was taken. But today, I have a confession to make: this time, I was completely clueless myself.

While sorting through my Greece travel archives, I found this nostalgic snapshot of an urban park.

I knew it was taken in 2023—the second day of our trip—right after we finished breakfast at our hotel and boarded a tour bus to head north to Kalambaka for a truffle hunt. But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember the name of this exact spot.

So, I brought in an AI collaborator to help me investigate. What followed was a brilliant, step-by-step detective game where we picked up pieces of the puzzle to crack the case. Here is how we got to the final conclusion:

🕵️‍♂️ Piecing the Puzzle Together

The Architectural DNA: We started by analyzing the park's unique design features. The continuous dark green slatted wooden benches alongside the paths—combined with a very specific "X" pattern iron safety railing—perfectly matched the municipal blueprint of Platia Exarcheion (Exarcheia Square) in central Athens.
The 2023 Plot Twist: Just when we thought we had it solved, we hit a massive roadblock. According to local history, in August 2022, the city permanently sealed off Exarcheia Square with giant 5-meter-high construction walls to build a new metro station. How could I have captured this open, leafy, fence-free view in late 2023?
The Seating and Sealing: This is where the detective work got really wild. I couldn't even remember how or where I stood to take the picture! But as we looked closer, the math didn't add up. How could I get an open view of a park that was completely boxed in by a massive construction wall? That’s when we caught a brilliant clue: the photo’s perspective was slightly elevated. Suddenly, the memories flooded back. I wasn't standing on the street at all—I was sitting on the right-hand side of our tour bus! Leaving our hotel, our northbound route took us right up Charilaou Trikoupi Street, which borders the east side of the square.
The Red Light Window: Our bus ground to a halt at a traffic light junction right next to the park. Because tour buses sit high up off the ground, my window look-out allowed me to peer cleanly over the high construction walls that pedestrian onlookers on the sidewalk couldn't see past!

🏆 The Final Verdict

Thanks to a combination of a morning traffic jam, an elevated bus window seat and a quick snap of the camera, our best theory is that this may be Platia Exarcheion (Exarcheia Square) in Athens, Greece. The visual clues certainly seem to point in that direction—but with the square already enclosed for Metro construction by the time I took this photograph in October 2023, we couldn't establish the location with absolute certainty. For now, Exarcheia remains our most intriguing lead rather than a confirmed identification.

Do you think my guess is correct, or could this be somewhere else entirely?

🚨 UPDATE

*After you've read the brilliant detective story above, I have a massive confession: we solved the mystery, but our initial theory was completely incorrect! (And before you ask—no, I couldn't just check the metadata; my archived files were a fragmented, rearranged mess with zero timestamps to save me.)

Shortly after publishing this, a deep dive into my camera roll turned up a second photo of the EOKA Heroes Monument. Crucially, the golden lighting and low-angle shadows in this second photo perfectly matched the lighting in the mystery park image, proving they were taken at the same time of day.

Following that clue, it turns out this isn't Exarcheia Square at all—it is Rizari Park in central Athens! The low-angle lighting wasn't from a morning traffic jam; it was the late afternoon "golden hour" right before we sat down for an amazing dinner across the street at Oroscopo Restaurant. And as the ultimate confirmation, if you look closely at the background of these new photos, you can spot the exact same green slatted benches and "X" iron safety railings that initially led us down the wrong path—proving that Rizari Park shares that exact same classic Athenian design DNA!

EOKA Heroes Monument.

🏆 The True Verdict

So, there you have it. No hidden metro construction walls, no elevated traffic jam stakeouts. It goes to show that while AI is brilliant at identifying patterns, it can easily hallucinate a wild conspiracy theory if you feed it the wrong assumptions.

I'm leaving the original investigation above because the AI's wild "bus-window-over-construction-walls" conspiracy theory is too entertaining to delete. Enjoy the incorrect detective work!* 🕵️‍♂️👇

The Unspoken Rule of Group Travel

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Tue, 20 Oct 2026 00:21:06 +0000

I have travelled on quite a few group tours, and over the years I have noticed something rather lovely.

There seems to be an unspoken rule.

We look after one another.

You may arrive at the airport knowing absolutely nobody. You may spend the first day wondering who you will sit with at meals, who you will talk to on the bus, and whether you will be able to keep up with everyone.

But somewhere along the way, something changes.

People start noticing things.

Someone remembers that you have anxiety issues. Someone notices that you are limping. Someone has a medicine you need. Someone waits for you. Someone carries something for you.

And sometimes, you find yourself doing exactly the same thing for someone else.

It has happened to me on tour after tour.

The Clinic Nurse

On one trip to Switzerland, I tripped and fell.

Fortunately, one of our fellow travellers was a clinic nurse. She gave me what she called her “snake oil” — some sort of topical remedy — and, amazingly, my ankle improved after a couple of days. Turned out, it really was snake oil!

It was such a small thing, but when you are travelling and suddenly find yourself with a painful ankle, having someone who knows what to do is enormously reassuring.

And the kindness goes both ways.

On that same trip, Gary had a cold, and I happened to have antihistamines with me.

That is how it works on group tours.

You don't necessarily know who will need what.

You just happen to have something useful when somebody else needs it.

Food, Medicine and Friendship

On another tour in Italy, there was a younger group who were particularly kind to Hubby and me.

There was one couple who repeatedly ordered extra food and insisted that we join them.

“Come and eat with us.”

They didn't have to do that. We weren't family. We had only just met.

But they kept doing it.

Later, when I started showing signs of flu, the woman gave me some Chinese medicine.

She also repeatedly asked for my contact number and invited me to visit her in Sarawak.

A few days earlier, we had been strangers.

By the end of the trip, there was already talk of keeping in touch.

Lina's Little System

In Spain, Lina knew that I had anxiety.

Whenever we were standing in a queue, she would make sure that I stood in front of her.

It was her little system.

I would be ahead of her, so I wouldn't worry about being left behind.

She didn't make a big deal of it. She simply understood what made me nervous and quietly adjusted things so that I felt safer.

And we did the same for her.

Whenever Hubby, Son#1 or I saw Lina going into a toilet or somewhere else by herself, we would wait for her.

Nobody had to ask.

It was just what you did.

Alex at the Escalator

In Toledo, Alex knew that I had fallen twice before, so he was particularly watchful.

He reminded me to hold the rails.

There were some very long escalators, and when I reached the top, Alex would already be waiting for me with wet wipes so I could wipe my hands.

And, very patiently, he took photographs for me.

Again, nothing dramatic.

Just someone paying attention.

The Neck Pillow Incident

On a Balkan tour, one of the women noticed me getting off the bus while holding my neck pillow.

She asked me why I was taking it with me.

I looked down and realised that I hadn't even noticed I was carrying it.

I was going to put it back on the bus.

She simply said:

“Here, let me do it for you.”

And she ran to the bus with the pillow.

It was such a tiny gesture but it would have been a great effort for me to hurry back to the bus. And it saved me from becoming that tourist — the one wandering the streets of Omiš, climbing medieval forts, all while accessorising with a neck pillow.

And that's exactly the point.

People notice.

Rose and the Emergency Toilet

On that same Balkan trip, Rose heard about my sleep problems and gave me some apricot seeds because she believed they might help with insomnia.

Later, during a long bus ride, Rose desperately needed a toilet.

Unfortunately, the bus wasn't stopping.

I happened to have an emergency female urination device with me — the kind that turns urine into gel.

I suggested that Rose could use it at the back of the bus, while all the women formed a little barricade around her to give her some privacy.

Rose decided not to use it.

But I gave it to her anyway, just in case.

I could see that she was genuinely moved.

It wasn't really about the device.

It was about knowing that someone had thought ahead and was willing to help you when you were in an embarrassing and uncomfortable situation.

The World's Darkest Toilet

And then there was the toilet that was completely dark.

I went in, came out again and warned everyone:

“Get your phone torches ready!”

One of the ladies didn't know how to turn hers on.

So I showed her.

There we were, a group of tourists travelling around Spain, teaching one another how to survive the world's darkest bathroom.

Sometimes group travel is like that.

When We Looked After the Guide

And sometimes, the person who needs looking after is the guide.

In Greece, our guide developed a terrible scratchy throat.

I happened to have lozenges with me, so I gave her some.

Again, nothing dramatic.

Just a little something to make her day easier.

But the Porto trip was even more memorable.

Our dinner arrangements in Porto went rather spectacularly wrong.

The restaurant we were supposed to go to was closed, and suddenly our guide had a problem on her hands.

She was trying to sort everything out while the rest of us stood around wondering what was happening.

And then there was the bag.

Our guide had bought some bottles of Port wine earlier, and in the middle of all the confusion, she had left the bag behind at the closed restaurant.

Unfortunately, a random stranger noticed it too.

He seemed interested in simply walking off with the wine.

That was when we stopped being a group of tourists waiting for our guide to solve a problem.

We became her backup team.

We made sure the stranger couldn't simply walk away with her belongings.

And while our guide was running around trying to sort out the dinner disaster, someone had to look after the precious bag of Port.

So we did.

We carried it around with us and kept an eye on it until our guide finally managed to get everything organised.

It was a small thing, really.

Nobody was rescuing anyone from a burning building.

We were simply making sure that a bag of Port wine belonging to our guide didn't mysteriously disappear while she was busy dealing with a completely different problem.

But I remember it because of how instinctive it was.

Nobody said, “The guide is responsible for us, so this is her problem.”

Quite the opposite.

For once, we were responsible for her.

And perhaps that is what happens on a good group tour.

The guide looks after you when you are lost, anxious, tired, late, confused or simply don't know what is going on.

And sometimes, when the guide is the one having a bad day, you look after her.

Even if what you're protecting happens to be a bag of Port wine.

Especially if it's a bag of Port wine. 😂

And Then There Is the Driver

Every morning, our driver greeted us with a cheerful “Bom dia!” or “Buenos días,” depending on where we were. His smile became part of the rhythm of our days.

He drove us safely across countries, through unfamiliar roads and landscapes. And whenever I hesitated on the steep coach steps, he was there with a steady hand.

He didn’t chat much, but his quiet presence was constant — right in front of us, behind the wheel.

And then, suddenly, the tour ends. He unloads our luggage, we say our goodbyes, and he drives away. It always feels a little sad. Someone you may not have spoken to much has still become part of your travelling family.

We Are Strangers — But Not Quite

Looking back, I think this is one of the nicest things about travelling with a group.

You arrive as strangers.

You don't know who will be sitting beside you on the bus.

You don't know who will be at your breakfast table.

You don't know who will be the person you end up talking to every day.

And yet, very quickly, a strange little community forms.

There seems to be an unwritten understanding:

Someone remembers that you are nervous.

Someone notices that you are struggling.

Someone has medicine.

Someone has an extra lock.

Someone has spare shoes.

Someone has a neck pillow.

Someone knows how to work the phone torch.

Someone waits at the top of the escalator.

Someone makes sure you are ahead in the queue.

Someone orders extra food and says, “Come and eat with us.”

Someone keeps your passport safely when you absent-mindedly leave it behind.

Someone greets you "Buongiorno" cheerfully every morning and lends a steady hand on the steep coach steps.

And sometimes, unexpectedly, you become the person doing the helping.

You give someone medicine.

You lend them something.

You show them how to use their phone.

You wait for them.

You carry something for them.

You look after their precious bag of Port wine.

Perhaps that is the real secret of travelling with strangers.

You don't have to know someone for years before caring about them.

Sometimes all it takes is a long bus ride, a broken shoe, a desperate need for a toilet, a dark bathroom, a bad ankle, a forgotten passport, a scratchy throat, a bag of Port wine — or a shared meal.

You arrive as strangers.

And somewhere along the way, without anybody announcing it, you start looking after one another.

Maybe that's the best souvenir any tour can give you.

Silent Stories#10

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Fri, 16 Oct 2026 01:29:21 +0000

The Statue of Gregory of Nin (Grgur Ninski) is one of the most recognisable landmarks in Split, Croatia, standing just outside the Golden Gate of Diocletian’s Palace. Created by Croatia’s celebrated sculptor Ivan Meštrović, the enormous bronze figure depicts the medieval bishop with a stern, almost angry expression — an appearance that seems fitting for a man known for challenging the religious establishment of his time.

Key Details of the Statue

Location: The statue stands just outside the Golden Gate (Zlatna vrata), the northern entrance to Diocletian’s Palace in Split.
The Subject: Gregory of Nin (Grgur Ninski) was a 10th-century Croatian bishop and an important figure in Croatia’s cultural and religious history. He strongly advocated the use of Old Slavonic, rather than Latin, in church services, allowing worshippers to hear the liturgy in a language they could understand.
The Sculptor: The statue was created by Ivan Meštrović, one of Croatia’s most important sculptors. He portrayed Gregory as an imposing, powerful and determined figure rather than a gentle-looking bishop.
The Expression: Gregory's stern face, furrowed brow and commanding pose give him an almost perpetually angry appearance. Our guide jokingly told us that Gregory was "always angry" — and judging from his expression, he certainly looks like a man who was not easily pleased!
The Size: The bronze statue stands approximately 7.5 metres tall, making Gregory appear particularly imposing as he towers over visitors approaching the Golden Gate.
The Original Location: The statue was unveiled in 1929 in the Peristyle, the central square within Diocletian’s Palace. During World War II, it was removed by the Italian occupying forces. In 1954, it was relocated to its present position outside the Golden Gate.

The Famous Toe

The Good-Luck Tradition: Visitors traditionally rub Gregory’s big left toe for good luck. Some believe that touching the toe will also ensure that they return to Split one day.
The Shiny Toe: After countless visitors have rubbed it over the years, the bronze toe has become noticeably smooth and golden-looking, standing out against the dark bronze of the rest of the statue.
A Popular Photo Stop: It has become almost impossible to visit the statue without seeing tourists lining up to touch the famous toe — turning a serious monument to a medieval bishop into one of Split's most entertaining tourist traditions.

An Interesting Contrast

The statue was created to commemorate a significant figure in Croatian religious and cultural history, particularly his advocacy of the Croatian/Slavic language in church worship. Yet today, many visitors may know Gregory less for his historical importance than for his enormous statue, perpetually angry expression and extraordinarily shiny toe.

And perhaps that is the most amusing part of the story: a monument representing a bishop who challenged the establishment has become famous for something much simpler — tourists rubbing his toe for luck!

The Day My Sister Ate a Garden

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Tue, 13 Oct 2026 00:47:00 +0000

We checked into Marvie Hotel & Health in Split, expecting the usual—fluffy pillows, a decent breakfast, and maybe those complimentary chocolates that make you feel slightly fancier than you actually are.

Instead, we got… three mysterious brown balls.

Naturally, we assumed they were artisanal chocolate. I mean, what else could they be? Rustic-looking? Yes. Slightly dusty? Maybe it’s cocoa powder! Organic! Sustainable! Very on-brand for a health hotel.

Before anyone could question it, my sister—brave, impulsive, and clearly too trusting—popped one into her mouth.

And then… her face.

I wish I had recorded it.

She just froze. Didn’t even speak. Just slowly turned and looked at me like I had personally set her up.

That was when we realised something was very wrong.

So we actually read the card (which we should have done earlier), and it turns out they were seed balls.

Not food.

You’re supposed to throw them into parks or soil so plants can grow. Something called “guerrilla gardening.”

Meanwhile, my sister had just taken a full bite out of one.

Honestly, I still don’t know what she tasted — soil? regret? both?

Anyway, lesson learnt:
If a hotel gives you something that looks like chocolate… maybe read the instructions first.

Silent Stories#9

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Thu, 08 Oct 2026 03:54:26 +0000

Angels Unawares is a bronze sculpture by Canadian artist Timothy Schmalz installed in St. Peter's Square in Vatican City

Key Details

Location: St. Peter's Square, Vatican City (near the southern colonnade/fountain)
Inauguration Date: September 29, 2019, by Pope Francis for the 105th World Day of Migrants and Refugees
Dimensions & Weight: 6 meters long (about 20 feet) and weighs 3 tons
Subject Matter: Depicts 140 diverse migrants and refugees from different eras, cultures, and races huddled tightly together on a boat.
Central Symbol: A pair of angel wings rises from the center of the crowd, including a depiction of the Holy Family (Mary, Joseph, and baby Jesus).
Biblical Inspiration: Based on Hebrews 13:2: "Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained angels unawares."
Significance: It is the first new sculpture installed in St. Peter's Square in centuries. A smaller bronze version is also housed at the Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls in Rome.

Spotted in Ljubljana

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Sun, 04 Oct 2026 12:26:40 +0000

Frida Kahlo‑inspired planters in Ljubljana

Silent Stories #8

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Wed, 30 Sep 2026 01:47:39 +0000

Statues have a way of finding me. I don't set out to photograph them, yet they appear—in plazas, gardens, and street corners—each with its own silent story. Some are famous, others almost forgotten, but all of them invite a pause. Perhaps they fascinate me because public statues are relatively uncommon back home in Malaysia, so every encounter feels like discovering a small piece of another culture. What began as a simple fascination has become a journey of discovering the stories hidden within these silent works of art.

Here’s another encounter in my Silent Stories series — statues that found me.

Perseus with the Head of Medusa

This famous bronze masterpiece was created by Benvenuto Cellini between 1545 and 1554.

Location: It stands in the Loggia dei Lanzi in Piazza della Signoria, Florence, Italy.
Commission: Duke Cosimo I de’ Medici commissioned the work as a powerful symbol of Medici authority over Florence.
Design: The statue depicts the Greek hero Perseus standing triumphantly over the body of Medusa, holding her severed, snake-crowned head aloft.
Hidden Feature: Look closely at the back of Perseus’s helmet and you’ll discover a self-portrait of Cellini cleverly incorporated into the sculpture.

Perseus with the Head of Medusa is not only a Renaissance masterpiece but also a fascinating mixture of mythology, politics and Cellini’s own larger-than-life personality.

Here are some fun and fascinating facts about it:

🎭 The Artist & His Drama

Benvenuto Cellini (1500–1571) was primarily a goldsmith and metalworker, rather than a sculptor. Perseus became his most famous sculptural achievement.
Cellini was notorious for his volatile personality and turbulent life. He was accused of crimes including theft, assault, sodomy and murder. His famously colourful autobiography, La Vita, is filled with extraordinary—and sometimes difficult to verify—claims about his life and encounters with other artists.

🗡️ The Statue’s Creation

Commissioned by Cosimo I de’ Medici in 1545 and completed in 1554, the statue was unveiled in Piazza della Signoria, where it joined an impressive collection of monumental sculptures.
Cellini spent almost a decade working on the project, pushing the technical possibilities of large-scale bronze casting. The dramatic streams of blood flowing from Medusa’s severed neck add to its theatrical effect.

🪞 Hidden Details

On the back of Perseus’s helmet, Cellini incorporated a small self-portrait, giving himself a permanent place within his masterpiece.
The pedestal reliefs beneath the statue depict scenes from the story of Perseus and Medusa, providing an elaborate bronze retelling of the myth.

🏛️ Political Symbolism

Perseus’s victory over Medusa was intended to convey a political message: the triumph of Medici authority over their enemies and opponents.
Its prominent position in Piazza della Signoria, surrounded by other monumental works, helped create a powerful visual statement about Medici strength and control over Florence.

📍 Fun Visitor Notes

The statue still stands outdoors in the Loggia dei Lanzi, where it can be viewed free of charge.
Despite being one of the great masterpieces of Renaissance sculpture, it can sometimes be overshadowed by the more famous sculptures nearby—including the replica of Michelangelo’s David.
And if you walk around to the back, don’t forget to look up at Perseus’s helmet. That little face staring back at you is Cellini himself.

Image credit: Wikimedia Commons / Wikipedia (Portraits of Benvenuto Cellini)

A Four-Legged Landmark

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Thu, 24 Sep 2026 23:43:21 +0000

This calm, watchful dog rested quietly on the steps beside Ljubljana's iconic Robba Fountain.

As visitors came and went with their chatter and cameras, it seemed perfectly content to simply watch the world pass by.

Sometimes the most memorable sight isn't the monument—but the peaceful soul keeping it company.

Silent Stories#7

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Mon, 21 Sep 2026 00:28:05 +0000

Here’s another encounter in my Silent Stories series — statues that found me.

The "Fame of Industry" (Renommée de l'Industrie) is an iconic gilded bronze statue located on the Pont Alexandre III bridge in Paris, France. It stands atop one of the four monumental 17-meter-tall masonry pylons that anchor each corner of the bridge.

Key Details of the Statue

Location: It is positioned on the Left Bank (the south side of the Seine River), facing towards the Les Invalides complex.
The Sculptor: The statue was designed by French sculptor Clément Steiner and completed posthumously by Eugène Gantzlin for the 1900 Universal Exhibition.
Design: It features a classical allegorical female figure representing "Fame" restraining the mythical winged horse, Pegasus.
The Base: At the masonry base of this specific pylon sits a stone statue representing La France de Louis XIV (France of Louis XIV), sculpted by Laurent Marqueste.
Functional Purpose: Beyond their incredible Art Nouveau aesthetic, these massive pylons and their heavy statues serve an engineering purpose: they act as stabilizing counterweights to support the bridge’s remarkably flat, low single-span steel arch.

The Four "Fames" of Pont Alexandre III

The Fame of Industry is part of a matching set of four gilded sculptures that celebrate different cultural and economic achievements of France:

Left Bank (South Side): Fame of Industry and Fame of Commerce.
Right Bank (North Side): Fame of the Arts and Fame of the Sciences.

Walls That Strum

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Wed, 16 Sep 2026 00:40:02 +0000

🎸 In the winding streets of Toledo, even the walls seem to sing. I stumbled upon this boutique hotel sign crowned with sculpted hands strumming a guitar—an artistic welcome that feels perfectly at home in Spain's land of music, history, and legends.

Amid silence, you can almost hear the rhythm of flamenco echoing from the wall itself.

The hotel's name, Entre Dos Aguas ("Between Two Waters"), will also sound familiar to music lovers. It shares its title with one of the most celebrated compositions by the legendary Spanish guitarist Paco de Lucía. Whether this is a deliberate tribute or simply a poetic coincidence, the guitar sculpture makes the connection feel almost inevitable.

It's one of those delightful travel moments when a simple hotel sign tells a story. It’s a reminder that in Spain, even a hotel sign can carry the soul of a song.

Silent Stories#6

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Fri, 11 Sep 2026 00:31:49 +0000

Here’s another encounter in my Silent Stories series — a statue that found me.

Statue of Petar Zoranić — Zadar, Croatia

Artist: Unknown / Local Croatian Sculptor.
Artwork: The Statue of Petar Zoranić commemorates the foundational 16th-century Croatian literary figure.
Medium: A weathered bronze sculpture depicting the writer standing tall in Renaissance-era attire, uniquely characterized by its robust, powerfully sculpted legs.
Location: Situated prominently in St. Chrysogonus Square (Trg Svetog Krševana) in the historic, old town core of Zadar, Croatia.
The Figure: The monument depicts Petar Zoranić (1508–1569), a noble-born poet and notary from nearby Nin who went on to define the early identity of Croatian literature.
Literary Significance: Zoranić penned Planine (The Mountains) in 1536. Published posthumously in Venice in 1569, this pastoral romance is celebrated by historians as the very first novel ever written in the Croatian language.
Historical Context: The statue represents a triumph of human expression over conflict. Zoranić wrote his poetry during a tumultuous era when Zadar was a heavily fortified enclave under constant threat and siege by Ottoman forces.
Concept & Setting: Set against the backdrop of ancient stone facades and the medieval Church of St. Chrysogonus, the statue anchors a quiet public crossroad, connecting modern city wanderers to the cultural renaissance of the eastern Adriatic.
Silent Story: Standing proudly amidst centuries-old fortifications, the statue whispers a story of patriotism and cultural preservation. Zoranić used his fictional 7-day mountain trek to allegorically awaken his countrymen's love for their native tongue and land.

The Statue of Petar Zoranić reminds us that behind the stoic bronze of historical figures lies a passionate plea to remember who we are and where we come from.

The Plaka Cat

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Mon, 07 Sep 2026 23:48:12 +0000

Back in 2023, I was wandering through Plaka, Athens — narrow streets, painted shutters, and right there on a wooden bench, a white cat with orange patches. Calm as a monk, stretched beside a potted plant, watching the world drift by. I even stopped to pet it, noticing the distinctive mark on its face and coloring that made it unforgettable.

Back home in Malaysia, I watched a few YouTube walking tours of Plaka and smiled when I spotted the very same cat roaming the nearby streets — not just outside the shop where I had met it, but moving through the neighborhood as if it belonged there, a familiar face in a place visited by thousands of strangers.

Recently, while looking through old photos, I was reminded of that cat and decided to Google the shop at Thespidos 2, the very spot where I first saw it. The result? “Permanently closed.” Once a concept store, it has since been replaced by an eyewear boutique. The shelves, the counter, the heart‑shaped ornaments, the bench — gone. But the cat? That’s the part Google can’t tell you.

Maybe it wandered off to another doorway, claimed a new bench, or became a regular at the taverna down the street. Cats in Plaka are like unofficial guardians of the neighborhood — they don’t belong to one shop, they belong to the rhythm of the place.

There’s something poetic about it: businesses open and close, signs fade, shutters lock. Yet the cats remain, padding through centuries of change, curling up wherever life still hums. The shop may have vanished, but the memory of that cat lingers — a reminder that sometimes the soul of a street isn’t in its commerce, but in its creatures.

Silent Stories#5

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Thu, 03 Sep 2026 06:01:28 +0000

Here’s another encounter in my Silent Stories series — statues that found me.

Sean Henry’s Man with Cup — Salisbury Cathedral

Artist: Sean Henry (born 1965), a British sculptor known for creating life-sized painted bronze figures that explore identity, human presence, and everyday experiences.
Artwork: Man with Cup (2008) is a life-sized painted bronze sculpture depicting an anonymous man standing quietly while holding a simple cup.
Medium: The sculpture is made from bronze and hand-painted, a technique Sean Henry uses to give his figures a strikingly lifelike appearance.
Exhibition at Salisbury Cathedral: The sculpture was displayed at Salisbury Cathedral as part of Sean Henry’s exhibition “Conflux: A Union of the Sacred and the Anonymous” in 2011.
Concept of the exhibition: The exhibition placed contemporary human figures within the medieval cathedral, creating a dialogue between the sacred surroundings of the past and the ordinary lives of people today.
The figure: Unlike traditional cathedral sculptures that often depict saints, kings, or biblical figures, Man with Cup represents an everyday, anonymous person — someone who could be any one of us.
The cup: The ordinary cup held by the figure contrasts with the grandeur of Salisbury Cathedral, suggesting the importance and dignity of everyday moments.
Location significance: Salisbury Cathedral, built in the 13th century, provides a dramatic setting for Henry’s modern sculptures, highlighting the connection between centuries-old spiritual spaces and contemporary human experiences.
Silent story: Standing quietly among ancient stone and stained glass, Man with Cup invites visitors to pause and reflect on the unnoticed stories carried by ordinary people.

Sean Henry’s Man with Cup reminds us that even the most ordinary person can become a subject worthy of contemplation.

And the answer to my previous post’s little mystery? — Athens. Some of you were curious, so I won’t keep you guessing. Yes, the mystery photo was taken in Athens, a city in Greece where yellow taxis are part of the everyday landscape.

Where in the World?

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Mon, 31 Aug 2026 01:24:07 +0000

Some cities reveal themselves with famous landmarks. Others whisper their identity through everyday life.

A row of well-worn balconies. Shop awnings catching the afternoon sun. Taxis weaving through the traffic while pedestrians wait patiently at the lights. Nothing extraordinary—and yet everything tells a story.

There are clues hidden in this photo if you look closely enough. Can you work out where this was taken?

Drop your guess in the comments.

Silent Stories#4

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Thu, 27 Aug 2026 01:59:17 +0000

Here’s another encounter in my Silent Stories series — statues that found me.

The Statue of Petrica Kerempuh is a famous bronze monument located in Zagreb, Croatia, specifically at the top of the stairs leading to the vibrant Dolac Market.

Created by the renowned Croatian sculptor Vanja Radauš in 1955 (and erected in 1973), the sculpture is titled Petrica i Galženjaki (Petrica and the Gallows-birds). It depicts a cynical, rebellious ballad-singer playing a lute beneath a hanged man, serving as a powerful symbol of folk resistance and political satire.

Key Facts & Location

Location: Dolac 8, 10000, Zagreb, Croatia (just above the main Dolac Market)
Artist: Vanja Radauš
Hours: Open 24 hours (Outdoor public monument)
Accessibility: Wheelchair-accessible entrance

Who is Petrica Kerempuh?

Folk Hero: He is a fictional, Robin Hood-like character from northern Croatian folklore.
Traits: Known as a cynical, witty, and clever peasant who travels the world exposing the greed of the upper classes and mocking authority.
Literary Fame: His legend was immortalized by the famous Croatian writer Miroslav Krleža in his 1936 masterpiece collection of poems, The Ballads of Petrica Kerempuh.

Small Hands, Big Gestures

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Thu, 06 Aug 2026 00:26:16 +0000

Stumbled upon this during a walking tour in Zadar—kids’ artwork from a kindergarten strung across an alley, and even a little box where they leave fruit pits wrapped in paper for planting.

Such a sweet reminder that imagination and kindness can brighten everyday corners.

"KAD JEDEMO VOĆE NAĐEMO KOŠTICE I ONDA IH POKLONIMO DA SADIMO STABLO. KOŠTICE SMO SAMOTALI U PAPIR VAMA SA DAR. UZIMTE SADITE ILI RASPJITE PO SELENIM POVUŠINAMA."

This roughly translates to: "When we eat fruit, we find pits and then we gift them so we can plant a tree. We wrapped the pits in paper as a gift for you. Take them, plant them, or scatter them across green areas."

Silent Stories#3

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Mon, 03 Aug 2026 01:02:59 +0000

Here’s another encounter in my Silent Stories series — statues that found me.

The Caryatids: The Maidens Who Have Carried History for Over 2,400 Years

Among the many wonders of the Athens Acropolis, few are as captivating as the six graceful maidens standing on the south porch of the Erechtheion. Known as the Caryatids, these draped female figures are far more than beautiful sculptures. They are works of engineering, symbols of mythology, and silent witnesses to more than two millennia of history.

Carved from luminous Pentelic marble between 421 and 406 BC, each Caryatid stands about 2.3 metres (7½ feet) tall. Instead of conventional stone columns, the ancient Greek architects chose these elegant women to support the weight of the temple's roof. It was a remarkable feat of both art and engineering. Their thick braided hair was not simply decorative—it helped strengthen their necks against the tremendous load above. Their heavy, deeply folded garments conceal robust bodies capable of bearing weight, while their subtly bent legs create an impression of effortless grace and natural balance.

Today, five of the original Caryatids are housed in the Acropolis Museum, where they are protected from the pollution and environmental damage that once threatened them. Between 1978 and 1979, they were carefully removed from the Erechtheion and replaced with exact replicas, allowing visitors to appreciate the temple while preserving the priceless originals.

The sixth Caryatid, however, is absent. In the early nineteenth century, Thomas Bruce, the 7th Earl of Elgin—better known as Lord Elgin—removed one of the statues during the Ottoman occupation of Greece. It was transported to London, where it remains in the British Museum. Its removal continues to be one of the most debated episodes in the long-running discussion over the return of the Parthenon Sculptures and other Acropolis treasures to Greece.

Yet the Caryatids are much more than architectural masterpieces. Their story reaches deep into Greek mythology.

The name Caryatid means "maidens of Caryae," a town in Laconia, near Sparta, where a sanctuary was dedicated to Artemis Karyatis. During religious festivals, young women gathered there to perform graceful ring dances in honour of the goddess, often balancing baskets or sacred offerings on their heads. Many historians believe the Caryatids represent these priestesses, forever captured in marble, carrying not baskets but the roof of a sacred temple. In this interpretation, they embody devotion, fertility, dignity, and sacred service.

Centuries later, however, a very different story emerged.

The Roman architect Vitruvius, writing in the first century BC, claimed that the women of Caryae had betrayed Greece by siding with the Persians during the Greco-Persian Wars. According to his account, the town was conquered, its men killed, and its women enslaved and condemned to bear heavy burdens for eternity. The Caryatids, he argued, symbolized this perpetual punishment.

Most modern scholars reject Vitruvius' explanation. Female figures had already been used as architectural supports long before the Persian Wars, making it unlikely that the statues were ever intended as symbols of disgrace. Even so, his tale has endured for centuries, giving the Caryatids a second, darker identity.

The Erechtheion itself is steeped in mythology. Built on one of the most sacred spots of the Acropolis, it was dedicated to both Athena and Poseidon and associated with the legendary King Kekrops, the mythical first king of Athens. Some scholars believe the Caryatids served as eternal attendants or priestesses standing watch over his sacred precinct, linking them not only to Artemis but also to the very origins of Athens itself.

Perhaps that is what makes the Caryatids so enduringly fascinating. They exist at the crossroads of architecture, history, religion, and myth. To some they are priestesses frozen in an eternal act of worship. To others they are symbols of resilience, carrying their burden with quiet dignity. Whatever their true inspiration, they have stood for more than 2,400 years as some of the world's most remarkable sculptures—not merely holding up a temple, but carrying the weight of stories, legends, and civilizations.

Standing before them on the Acropolis, it's easy to forget that they are stone. They seem almost alive—six silent maidens who have carried history on their shoulders for over two millennia.

The Legend of the 99 Steps

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Thu, 30 Jul 2026 14:18:43 +0000

On Bled Island, a wedding tradition says the groom must carry his bride up all 99 stone steps to the Church of the Assumption. He does it in silence, without putting her down, as a symbol of strength, devotion, and love.

If he succeeds, their marriage will be blessed with happiness and harmony.

Question

What if the groom can’t make it all the way up the 99 steps? Wouldn’t that feel ominous — as if the marriage were doomed before it even begins?

I have to admit, I was already huffing and panting about a quarter of the way up those steps—and I wasn't even carrying anyone! That certainly gave me a new appreciation for the grooms who take on this tradition.

But legends are symbolic, not literal. The climb is meant to show devotion, not predict destiny. Even if the steps prove too steep, love isn’t measured in stone stairways — it’s measured in patience, laughter, and the willingness to keep climbing together in life.

Silent Stories#2

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Tue, 28 Jul 2026 00:44:13 +0000

Here’s the second encounter in my Silent Stories series — another statue that found me.

Equestrian statue of Louis XIV

The sculpture of King Louis XIV in the Cour Napoléon of the Louvre (near the I.M. Pei Pyramid) is a lead cast replica of an original equestrian statue by Italian Baroque master Gian Lorenzo Bernini. Installed in 2009, this casting was made in 1988 from the original marble masterpiece currently housed at the Palace of Versailles.

Historical Background

In 1665, the young king Louis XIV ("The Sun King") invited Bernini to Paris to design a new facade for the Louvre Palace. While Bernini's architectural designs for the Louvre were ultimately rejected in favor of French classical styles, his portrait bust of the king was a massive success, leading the king to commission an equestrian statue.

The Saga of the Original Statue

Bernini did not finish the equestrian statue until 1677, years after he left Paris. When Louis XIV finally viewed the completed piece, he hated it. He ordered it destroyed, but was persuaded instead to have it relegated to the grounds of Versailles. He later commissioned French sculptor François Girardon to "fix" the statue. Girardon modified the king's facial features, changed the mane, and altered the context so the sculpture depicted the Roman hero Marcus Curtius sacrificing himself, rather than Louis XIV. Today, the modified original remains on display at the Palace of Versailles in the Orangerie.

A Cat Between Centuries

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Fri, 24 Jul 2026 00:04:22 +0000

Walking the castle walls of Dubrovnik, you expect battlements, sea views, and echoes of history. What you don’t expect is a ginger cat, sun-drunk and serene, sprawled across an air-conditioning compressor—two legs dangling, eyes half closed, completely surrendered to the moment.

The vines creep, the tiles glow, the walls whisper of knights and merchants. And then there’s this feline philosopher, reminding us that history and modernity often meet in the most ordinary corners.

It’s a perfect little anachronism: medieval fortifications built to withstand sieges, now sharing space with humming machines of modern comfort—and a cat who couldn’t care less about either. No ambition. No deadlines. No emails. Just solar-powered happiness.

I think cats have already solved life—we’re the ones overcomplicating it.

Maybe that’s Dubrovnik’s charm: it’s not just a museum of stone, but a living city where cats nap on air-conditioners, tourists wander the ramparts, and time folds in on itself.

Silent Stories#1

noreply@blogger.com (Veronica Lee) — Tue, 21 Jul 2026 00:31:33 +0000

Perhaps they fascinate me because public statues are relatively uncommon back home in Malaysia, so every encounter feels like discovering a small piece of another culture.

I'm beginning a new statue series. This week's encounter is the first piece from my growing gallery of statues discovered along the way.

Bronze statue of "Agriculture" located on the Queen Victoria Memorial outside Buckingham Palace.

Name: Agriculture
Sculptor: Designed by Sir Thomas Brock and unveiled in 1911.
Symbolism: An allegorical representation of farming and harvest, depicting a woman in peasant attire holding a sickle alongside a powerful walking lion symbolising British national strength and power.
Origin: Gifted to the monument by the people of New Zealand, together with its counterpart.
Location: One of the four outer corner bronze groups of the monument directly outside the gates of Buckingham Palace in London.
Part of a Series: Represents Agriculture, one of four allegorical groups symbolising the nation's Victorian-era ideals: Agriculture, Manufacture (Industry), Peace, and Progress.

"Inanimate objects sometimes appear endowed with a strange power of sight. A statue notices, a tower watches, the face of an edifice contemplates" Victor Hugo