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Advent Calendar Day 14 - Menorcan adventures
I have had a bit of trouble with this post, firstly because I've got a bug and feel like I have cotton wool in my brain (I did mean to try and write something new, but it wasn't going to happen), and then because I hadn't realised just how much LJ had scrambled all the pictures - I eventually tracked down most of the Mahon ones, along with some from Morpeth, in an album labelled 'Tall Ships', which I suppose is appropriate enough!
But here at last are a few of the places that Jack and Stephen might have seen in Menorca:
Mahon
The music-room in the Governor's House at Port Mahon, a tall, handsome, pillared octagon
The Governor's House
Its great twin staircases winding down to the quay - stairs known to British sailors for a hundred years as Pigtail Steps
The Steps
It stood high over them, for at this point, the far end of the harbour, a cliff rose sheer from the low ground, a long cliff beginning in the middle of the town, so that this part of Mahon rode high above the water.
High above the water
It was an enchanting house for meditation, backing on to the very top of Mahon's cliff and overhanging the merchants' quay at a dizzy height
House on the cliff
An elegant, curving frame for an extraordinarily brilliant, Canaletto view of Port Mahon, all lit with the silent noon-day sun
From the far side of the harbour
Mahon harbour
"Now I must go across to the dockyard with the bosun before the evening gun"
The dockyard from Mahon
The dockyard
Ahead lay the broad stretch with the hospital island in it
The hospital island
The hospital
A closer acquaintance with this friend who was now running fast towards the quarantine island, behind which he would presently vanish.
The quarantine island
Mahon still fast asleep. Lazaretto Island left astern
The new lazareto (still on a peninsula and partly built in Jack's time!)
There beyond the lights - they were increasing every moment - was the gap in the hills where just such a gust had laid the Agamemnon on her beam ends in '98.
The gap at La Mola
And broad on the starboard bow lay Cape Mola.
The fort at La Mola
she lay over, over, and here was St Philips on his larboard bow.
Sant Felip
Ciutadella
"But Dr Maturin is gone to..."
"Ciudadela, on a mule."
"And they do not look to see him back before Sunday evening."
"Asking your pardon, sir," said Bonden, "Saturday, I believe."
"He said Sabbath-oh," cried Willet.
"So he did, sir: but the Sabbath is on Saturdays in these parts, we find. Sunday they call
Dimanche-oh, or something very like."
Ciutadella
The sun set in a somewhat troubled sky; the bells of Ciudadela rang for the Angelus
Ciutadella cathedral
But here at last are a few of the places that Jack and Stephen might have seen in Menorca:
Mahon
The music-room in the Governor's House at Port Mahon, a tall, handsome, pillared octagon
The Governor's House
Its great twin staircases winding down to the quay - stairs known to British sailors for a hundred years as Pigtail Steps
The Steps
It stood high over them, for at this point, the far end of the harbour, a cliff rose sheer from the low ground, a long cliff beginning in the middle of the town, so that this part of Mahon rode high above the water.
High above the water
It was an enchanting house for meditation, backing on to the very top of Mahon's cliff and overhanging the merchants' quay at a dizzy height
House on the cliff
An elegant, curving frame for an extraordinarily brilliant, Canaletto view of Port Mahon, all lit with the silent noon-day sun
From the far side of the harbour
Mahon harbour
"Now I must go across to the dockyard with the bosun before the evening gun"
The dockyard from Mahon
The dockyard
Ahead lay the broad stretch with the hospital island in it
The hospital island
The hospital
A closer acquaintance with this friend who was now running fast towards the quarantine island, behind which he would presently vanish.
The quarantine island
Mahon still fast asleep. Lazaretto Island left astern
The new lazareto (still on a peninsula and partly built in Jack's time!)
There beyond the lights - they were increasing every moment - was the gap in the hills where just such a gust had laid the Agamemnon on her beam ends in '98.
The gap at La Mola
And broad on the starboard bow lay Cape Mola.
The fort at La Mola
she lay over, over, and here was St Philips on his larboard bow.
Sant Felip
Ciutadella
"But Dr Maturin is gone to..."
"Ciudadela, on a mule."
"And they do not look to see him back before Sunday evening."
"Asking your pardon, sir," said Bonden, "Saturday, I believe."
"He said Sabbath-oh," cried Willet.
"So he did, sir: but the Sabbath is on Saturdays in these parts, we find. Sunday they call
Dimanche-oh, or something very like."
Ciutadella
The sun set in a somewhat troubled sky; the bells of Ciudadela rang for the Angelus
Ciutadella cathedral