Simply cannot have traffic jams here….. not enough room for not enough room. Posted on June 2, 2012 by thebunguycord Reply
They probably wouldn’t like the reference, but we are also probably not the first ones, to Lisbon’s own Golden Gate Bridge (erected after SF’s). Posted on June 2, 2012 by thebunguycord Reply
THE man who really started it all…. Vasco da Gama has been sleeping here for almost 500 years in the cathedral. Posted on June 2, 2012 by thebunguycord Reply
A 16th century car (carriage) that reflects the ego, art, and engineering of its time. Posted on June 2, 2012 by thebunguycord Reply
Is this a fortress to repel pirates or a work of art? Given its use over the centuries, it must be a work of art. Posted on June 2, 2012 by thebunguycord Reply
An exact replica of Portugal’s 1st aircraft to cross to Brazil in 1922 Posted on June 2, 2012 by thebunguycord Reply
On Sauntering “I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who understood the art of walking, that is, of taking walks – who had a genius, so to speak, for sauntering, which word is beautifully derived, “from idle people who roved about the country, in the Middle Ages, and asked for charity, under pretense of going a la Sainte Terre”, to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, “There goes a Sainte-Terrer”, a saunterer, a Holy—Lander. They who never go to the Holy Land in their walks, as they pretend, are indeed mere idlers and vagabonds; but they who do go there are saunterers in the good sense, such as I mean. Some however, would derive the word from sans terre, without land or home, which, therefore in the good sense, will mean, having no particular home but equally at home everywhere. For this is the secret of successful sauntering. He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all; but the saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course to the sea. But I prefer the first, which, indeed is the most probably derivation. For every walk is a sort of crusade, preached by some Peter the Hermit in us, to go forth and reconquer this Holy Land from Infidels. It is true, we are but faint-hearted crusaders, even the walkers, nowadays, who undertake no persevering, never-ending enterprises. Our expeditions are but tours, and come round again at evening to the old hearth-side from which we set out. Half the walk is but retracing our steps. We should go forth on the shortest walk, perchance, in the spirit of undying adventure, never to return, prepared to send back our embalmed hearts only as relics to our desolate kingdoms. If you are ready to leave father and mother, brother and sister, wife and child and friends, and never see them again—if you have paid your debts, and made your will, and settled all your affairs, and are a free man… Then you are ready for a walk” Henry David Thoreau, 1862 Posted on June 2, 2012 by thebunguycord Reply