Walking to the Eiffel Tower Three Nights After ISIS: Tossed not Sunk

As a capstone to the three days of mourning France has been through, the Eiffel Tower was lit in the red, white, and blue colors of the French flag.  It was about 60 degrees F, with a wet, misting breeze.  I went to take a look.

Normally, the tower is completely lit as if a warm glow was coming from inside of it.  No spotlights shining on it, instead it is shining.  But tonight, from the back, the tower looked dark.  The trees in Champs de Mars have lost most of their leaves.  The tower is lit from the front, but this is the view approaching it from the Champs de Mars.   

The tower itself has been closed since the attacks, so the area around the tower seems empty.  Though there are a lot of tourists there, it's only a smattering compared to the long lines that gather every day and night all year long.  The bright red spotlights reached the low misty clouds. 

Under the tower, and in the Champ de Mars, the hordes of West African trinket peddlers were hurting for business.  There were nearly as many peddlers as visitors.  They're officially illegal, and we've seen them all walking rapidly in one direction when the police walk through the park.  The police look right at them and walk toward them, but they just shoo them away most times.  Tonight, the police didn't seem to be interested in them.  Maybe because there was not much business.  Coming around the side, it's still somber, but we can see it's brighter on the other side.  

The lighting accentuates the tower's intricate steel framework.

Along the major roads passing in front of the tower, in the midst of evening rush hour, people riding home on their Velib bikes, on their scooters, or in their cars, slowed to a crawl or stopped partly blocking traffic, to admire the sight of the city's expression of grief and defiance, and get a photo to share with their friends and families.  Numerous serious photographers had set up tripods along the sidewalks.  The view coming around the side, nearing the front. 

This is the view from the front, as seen from the other side of the Seine.  

While I took this picture, there was a police van with seven or eight "gendarmes" about twenty feet to my right, while a group of three soldiers, wearing brown camouflage and carrying machine guns, passed me on the other side.  By the way, is "camouflage" a French word?  It must be.  Once you start learning French, their words pop up all over the English language.  

Only after looking this up did I find out that the words at the bottom "Fluctuat nec Mergitur" (Tossed not Sunk) have been used as a city motto since the 1300's.  Paris' symbol is a boat like the one in the picture next to the words.  At first, having a boat as a symbol of Paris seemed strange to me, but the Seine has nurtured Paris since its infancy.

A couple of days ago, I wrote this post on misconceptions about France and ISIS.

Paris Attacks, France, and ISIS

Tonight, one night after the vicious, senseless attacks in Paris, we went out to dinner at a restaurant near Notre Dame.  After dinner, we walked around the neighborhood.  It was crystal clear that the attacks kept people at home, away from the cafes and attractions.  This is Notre Dame at about 9 PM tonight.

Many of the nearby cafes were nearly empty.  Since I've lived here, I've never seen so few people in this area.  Here are a few observations on the current situation.

1) France is not a Wimpy Country

Living here in France, watching France 24 news (great, and no commercials), we hear a lot about the risks and costs of France fighting ISIS and Boko Haram, an African terrorist group claiming allegiance to ISIS.  A lot of Americans have held a grudge against France ever since they opposed the Iraq war.  Many have the wrong impression that France is some sort of pacifist country. On the contrary, today, the French are America's closest ally in the fight against Islamic extremism.  Here's a quote from today's Bloomberg Business: 

"French special forces have been tracking Islamist militants in the Sahara since 2013. France was the first European country to join the U.S. air strikes on Islamic State in Iraq last year and is the only European country to join the U.S. in air strikes in Syria." [italics added]

http://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2015-11-14/france-pays-price-for-front-line-role-from-syria-to-west-africa

2) ISIS is No Gang of Thugs in the Desert

As fanatical and downright crazy as they seem when we hear of them burning people alive in stadiums, beheading people on video, and claiming credit for horrific attacks on the West, their fanaticism does not preclude taking practical, effective measures to build their economy and expand their recruitment.

ISIS is no a simple gang of terrorists, it's something resembling a nation.  Why do I say it's like a country?  If ISIS were a country, it would rank around 114th out of all 195 countries in terms of territory controlled.  In terms of economy, they would only rank 165th.  But that means their economic might is greater than 30 nations.

You've probably heard of their sophisticated propaganda videos and social media campaigns, meaning they have numerous web developers and audio visual techies.  They have a sort of government that "taxes" (extorts) money from the people living in territory they control.  More than 45,000 foreign fighters have joined ISIS.  According to CIA estimates, 15,000 arrived two years ago, and 30,000 arrived the next year.  In other words, despite all the bluster we hear from our Western governments about taking the fight to ISIS, ISIS' rate of growth is accelerating.

ISIS pays $10,000 recruiting bonuses for bringing in doctors and engineers.  Here's a quote from a recent Financial Times article on ISIS:

"...it is attempting to run its oil industry by mimicking the ways of national oil corporations.  According to Syrians who say ISIS tried to recruit them, the group headhunts engineers, offering competitive salaries to those with the requisite experience, and encourages prospective employees to apply to its human resources department."

Human resources department?  Of ISIS?

From selling oil alone, ISIS has annual revenues nearing $1 billion.  But oil accounts for only about a third of their annual revenue, according to some estimates.  They also bring in hundreds of millions annually from a combination of agriculture (they control about 40% of the cropland of  Syria), taxes, ransom for hostages, selling looted antiquities, and possibly selling harvested organs of those they kill or execute.  They are completely self-sustaining.

ISIS is no band of crazed fighters in white pickup trucks hiding in the desert.  This is a group that includes highly educated, skilled, one might even say comfortable, middle-class people.  A group with structure, strategy, and vast resources.  In other words, they're a growing and significant threat to the civilized world.

3) France Will Persevere

For the last few years, France has spent blood and money fighting Islamic extremists in Africa and  Syria.  This is why France was targeted in the senseless attacks yesterday.  These attacks inflict irreparable pain and loss on numerous individuals, but, rather than deterring France from fighting, they will only increase support for stronger offensives against ISIS.

My next post shows photos of night time lighting of the Eiffel Tower as a memorial.

Slea Head Drive on Dingle Peninsula, Ireland

If something is super-fantastic, amazing, and really great, then it must be really hard to get, right?  For example, when we go into nature, the best views are reserved for those of us who hike the longest and the highest.  Well, Slea Head Drive, along the coast of Dingle Peninsula in Ireland, didn't get the memo.  Some of the most beautiful views I've seen anywhere are there for the taking.  Just hop in the car and cruise along the coast.  I shouldn't even be saying this, because I imagine it won't be too long before that road becomes one long traffic jam.

We were going to do a hike that day, but before we started out toward the mountain, our B&B hostess said it would be cloudy up there, even though it was sunny elsewhere.  As we drove towards it, we could see she was right, the top was enveloped in clouds.  At the same time, everywhere else had precious, bright, sunshine!  It was one of only two days of our ten-day trip with full sun.  So, we turned around and headed for this other spot one of the locals at the B&B had recommended.

The scene below was just below the narrow cliff top road.  We stopped and walked a bit down from the road to check this out. It probably wasn't the safest place to take a walk, but here we are, so it's all good. 

When we saw this peninsula, we parked and took about an hour-long walk.  After fifteen minutes of walking, you get out of sight of the road and away from most of the people.  Then, all you hear is the wind in the grass, the surf, and the seagulls.  New Zealand has more sheep than people.  I wonder if Ireland does too.

Nice view from the top of the hill.  We walked all the way down to the furthest point of the land in the center of the photo.  There were only a few people down there, and most of them laying back on the rocky slope, a bit down from the top to get out of the wind, and taking a nap with the sun on their faces.  

The view once we were down at the bottom.  The brilliant emerald island is the same one seen in the previous photo.  The sun was shining a spotlight on it through a gap in the clouds.  The rocks in the foreground of this photo are that tip of land in the photo above.  I can still feel how much I loved being in this incredibly beautiful, peaceful place.  Spontaneous joy welling up doesn't happen too often.  This unexpected gem did it to me.  

I loved just watching the water churn on the rocks.  The aquamarine color comes from air bubbles pulled under the dark blue water every time it rolls up the sharp rocks and slides back down.  

I really didn't want to leave.  You can tell, because I'm still standing there taking pictures while Jennifer is flying up the hillside without me!  Of course, we'd never get anywhere if she didn't do that, because I'd always be stopping.  I wish we'd stayed at least a little longer.  A bit of a cockeyed panorama, but it conveys what a narrow, steep strip of land we were on.  

We thought that after that spot, the rest of the drive would pale in comparison, but there was more.  I'd still say the spot above was my favorite, but this place was incredible too.  After walking away from the road, down to the cliffs, we had the whole place to ourselves.  Jennifer just sat down and watched waves crash and listened to the gulls cry while I ran around worrying about photography.  Yes, photography can be a curse in situations like this.  

A little closer up view of the cliffs on the left in the photo above.  The rock looks a bit reddish because, well, because it is.  The area on top looks like another golf course.

This is the view across the valley, with those cliffs on the left.  The three humps in the middle are steep cliffs on the far side.  They're called The Three Sisters.  

This is the fifth and final part of a series on our trip Ireland.

Chapter 1: an unexpected close-up visit with a dolphin. 

Chapter 2: The next has photos from the spectacular seaside cliffs of Mizen Head. 

Chapter 3: Another describes our hike around Lamb's Head, at the tip of the Beara Peninsula, in County Cork. 

Chapter 4: Connemara National Park, Cliffs of Moher, and Achill Island.

[Note: If the photos are too big for your screen, you can click on one of them for a slide show view.]

Photos from Southwest Ireland: Connemara National Park, Cliffs of Moher, Achill Island

Here are a few shots from three different locations along Ireland's west coast.

First are three from our hike in Connemara National Park.  It was cloudy and grey, as you can see.  We kept saying, "At least it's not raining."  On the right, you can see some hikers coming just behind us.  It was a pretty busy trail.

Amazing how smooth and green that valley was.

Nice view from the top.  

The next two photos are from the Cliffs of Moher, which are arguably the most famous natural attraction in Ireland.  Of course, that means they had a giant parking lot with fees, and a traffic jam.  The parking lot filled up before we could get in, but luckily, we found a little side road that led a few kilometers down to a farm with a tiny bit of overflow parking.  It was so far away, we thought we must be going the wrong way.

Before I got there, I didn't realize the cliffs are several kilometers long.  You can hike along the tops of the cliffs on a trail just on the other side of the fences of bordering farms.  It was a hazy day, so not many photos.

This last photo was on Achill Island, about an hour and a half northwest of Galway.   We found the place a bit unimpressive after having seen all the other stuff, but this scene appealed to me.

This is the fourth in a series of posts on our Irish vacation.

Part 1: an unexpected close-up visit with a dolphin. 

Part 2: the spectacular seaside cliffs of Mizen Head. 

Part 3: our hike around Lamb's Head, at the tip of the Beara Peninsula, in County Cork. 

Part 5: I saved the best for last, the seaside cliffs and islands along Slea Head Drive.

Paris Nuit Blanche (Paris All-Nighter) 2015

Once a year, Paris holds an all-nighter of art.  From 10PM to 7AM, temporary art installations open their doors to the public.  This year, they actually painted a blue line on the sidewalks that stretched miles across the city, linking together the various art installations, passing cafes, neighborhoods, and food trucks along the way.  We were lucky enough to get excellent tacos from one of the best food trucks in the city  - California Cantine.  We had excellent tacos, a rare treat in Mexican-food-averse Paris.

[For incredibly cool clips from La Nuit Blanche Paris 2014, check this post from last year.]

Around 12:30 AM, after having walked a few miles, we came to the main attraction. There were about 3000 people in line.  There was a brief discussion of giving up and going home, but our friend Pringle rallied our spirits.  We're all glad she did, as it turned out to be a pretty amazing atmosphere of blue, laser-ised waves of clouds.

This installation was designed by Dan Roosegaarde, a Dutch aritst.  Since he's from the Netherlands, he's representing how his country may be under blue waves some time in the next fifty years due to the impact of climate change.  The Netherlands is already being kept above water with a system of dikes and pumps, sort of like New Orleans before Katrina.  So, the threat looms large in the Dutch psyche.

If the photos are too large for your screen, click on one to get a resized slide show.

A Cloudy Lamb's Head Hike on Beara Peninsula in County Cork, Ireland

After we visited Mizen Head, we headed over to the Beara Peninsula, which is one of five huge peninsulas along the southwest coast of Ireland. These are all part of the recently-branded "Wild Atlantic Way."  To get a sense of how large the peninsula is, driving from the base to the tip took about an hour.  There's a famous cable car there, crossing from the mainland to Dursey Island.  They say it can take four people, or one cow.  There's a hole in the bottom so they can rinse out any manure left behind by the previous occupants.  Anyway, we didn't end up taking the cable car; it looked like it was about to fall down.  We hiked over and around the hill at Lamb's Head instead.

The drive consisted of the usual narrow, winding roads, with drowsy, spray-painted sheep in all directions.

The hospitality committee.

It was cool, with gusts of wind up to about 50 MPH, which was nothing compared with our death-defying snowshoe hike in the Alps last winter.

The hike took us through fields with views of islands, bays on all sides, and the next peninsula.   Lichen thrives on the rocks.  Bright orange, fuzzy gray-green, and white everywhere.  I like how green the grass is on the top of this little island.  It reminds me of posters of imaginary golf holes in impossible places.

After being in hyper-compressed Paris, where there is never a moment without a power tool or truck engine nearby, it was great to be here, with no one at all around.  We were the only people on this hike.  There are small houses and farming buildings here and there, but nothing more than two stories for miles and miles.

It was windiest up here.  Cool to be on top of a hill with the ocean directly below.  We tried not to get too close to the edge, unless it was worth it for a better photo.

This boat was laying in the high grass next to the road.

We saw this sign while trying to get close to the water on a little side road.  Jennifer took the photo while I wandered over to check it out.  They weren't kidding.  The road ends in stairs down to the water.

[If the photos are too large for your screen, click on any photo to see a slide show automatically resized for your screen.]

The first post on our vacation to Ireland was about a close up encounter with a wild dolphin. 

The next has photos from the spectacular seaside cliffs of Mizen Head. 

This one has photographs of Connemara National Park, Cliffs of Moher, and Achill Island. 

I saved the best for last, the seaside cliffs and islands along Slea Head Drive.

Mizen Head of County Cork, Ireland

Aside from a completely unexpected close-up encounter with a dolphin, our trip to Ireland was mostly a tour of the rocky cliffs on the southwest coast.  We had planned to do this drive without knowing that Ireland has started a major branding campaign for the area, known as the Wild Atlantic Way.  When we stopped to get lunch one day, one of the locals asked us if we were driving the Wild Atlantic Way.

Driving on the wrong side of the road, sitting on the wrong side of the car, and shifting gears with my left hand was easier than you might think.  But, I did get in the wrong side of the car at least twice, only to realize I had no steering wheel.  Second, trying to shift the gears with the left hand from the left side, while the orientation of the gears was as normal (1st was furthest and 5th closest) did not mesh well with my brain.  I ground the gears going from 2nd to 3rd a hundred times, often to the amusement of nearby pedestrians.

From the airport, we headed straight to an old abandoned cathedral known as Rock of Cashel. It was built in the 1200's, though some buildings on the site had been built even earlier.   Old stone Irish crosses covered in lichen stand in the graveyard on the site.

After visiting Rock of Cashel, we drove to the far southwest tip of Ireland, known as Mizen Head.  We were fortunate this was one of the few sunny days we had.  There'd been so little good weather this year that the sunny day resulted in a traffic jam.  Thousands of people had rushed to the beach and filled the parking lot.  In desperation, later arrivals started parking their cars on the edge of the little country road, effectively reducing it to only one lane.  The result was a huge head-on backup. We got to witness twenty cars all backing up at once for a quarter of a mile.

A little way past the beach, we were continuing on the tiny coastal road.  We couldn't resist getting out and exploring the grassy clifftops and soaking up some sunshine.  Everywhere we went, we saw these dense tufts of small purple and yellow flowers in the right foreground.  I think they're heather.   "Heathcliff "on the heather-covered heath above the cliffs."  Hmm, I wonder where Emily Brontë got her ideas for character names. You can see the heath in appropriately dreary weather in the next article.

The great thing about this area is that we were the only people there.  It's just a random spot on the coast.  

Once we made it to Mizen Head, we went for a long walk on the paths originally built for workers at the signal house and lighthouse.  Mizen Head is set up to receive visitors, but it's not crowded.  See lower left corner of map below.

A flock of crying seagulls swirled in the air in front of the mouth of this cave.  The seagulls provide a clue to the scale of the scene.

Looking down off a short bridge way at the top of the cliffs.

The incredible view that everyone comes for.

This is part 2 of a five-part series on our vacation in Ireland in summer 2015.

Chapter 1: an unexpected close-up visit with a dolphin.

Chapter 3: describes our hike around Lamb's Head, at the tip of the Beara Peninsula, in County Cork.

Chapter 4:  Connemara National Park, Cliffs of Moher, and Achill Island.

Chapter 5: I saved the best for last, the seaside cliffs and islands along Slea Head Drive.

[Note: If the photos are too big for your screen, you can click on one of them for a slide show view.]

Hopped on a stranger's sailboat to see the dolphin

The most exciting and unlikely thing that happened to us in Ireland was when a guy in a wet-suit by the  mouth of Dingle bay offered to take us out in his two-person sailboat to visit the dolphin he befriended over 20 years ago.  We had run into him as he was coming onshore near a small stone tower overlooking the mouth of the bay.  The reason we were there was because I wanted to get a closer look at a lonely stone tower standing in the middle of a cow pasture. To get as close as we could, we'd driven down a tiny gravel road between fields, to the edge of the water, where about four cars were parked.  While we walked to the tower, and along the shore, we'd seen a man out circling back and forth in his small sailboat.  That's why I asked him if he'd seen any dolphins out there.  He thought that was funny, because it turned out he's been regularly visiting the dolphin for over twenty years.

After chatting about the dolphin for 10 minutes, and seeing the dolphin pop up a few times, he asked if we wanted to go meet his friend.  Even after he mentioned we had to go one at a time, Jennifer didn't hesitate to jump in the boat, which was a bit of a surprise to me. The guy was really friendly and seemed like a nice guy, but Jennifer says serial killers usually are too.  :)   She had to go by herself, because his tiny sailboat only carries two people.

So, there was Jennifer, out on a two-person sailboat with a guy we'd met 15 minutes before, while I waited onshore with Aiden's big, shaggy dog.

Jennifer sliding in the center board as they got into deep enough water.

Aiden had a way of calling the dolphin, with a loud "eeweeeee", and banging on the side of his boat with a small aluminum pole.  Most of the time, the dolphin responded by coming to the surface and checking out the boat.

Then he would disappear and we'd be looking for him in all directions.  Aiden would circle the boat around the area, going back into the harbor, or out further into the bay.  We saw him here just a second ago...

Coming in for a closer look.

Showing off.  You can get a sense of the relative size of the dolphin and the boat. He was about as long as the boat, so he looks really huge up close.  

Splashdown...

He surfaced a couple of times near the mouth of the harbor.  You can see all the way across the bay to the next peninsula south.  

The way the wind was blowing, and with that sail, there were very few opportunities to get a photo where you can see both Jennifer and Aiden's faces.  Look at how low the edge of the boat is - it actually goes in the water when making a sharp turn like this.  

One theory is that he was released from an amusement park, but no one knows for sure.

The triumphant return to shallow waters, greeted by Aiden's shaggy dog.  Jennifer was beyond thrilled for a couple of days after.

This is the first in a series of articles on our trip to Ireland.  The next has photos from the spectacular seaside cliffs of Mizen Head.  Another describes our hike around Lamb's Head, at the tip of the Beara Peninsula, in County Cork.  Next is Connemara National Park, Cliffs of Moher, and Achill Island.  Finally, my favorite, the seaside cliffs and islands along Slea Head Drive.