The Montech Water Slope

Izumo Taisha's rabbits

@shoku-and-awe made a great post on the rabbit statues at Izumo Taisha and why they're there, so I'll only add that they are all over the shrine's grounds, and as far as East as the Ancient Izumo History Museum.

In the gardens, the rabbits are depicted doing all kinds of things: reading a book, taking pictures, birdwatching... Yes, all that!

And of course, there are a lot of rabbits facing the shrine buildings and praying.

The plaque behind these two recognises Senge Takamasa and Kunimaro, father and son, current and presumed future chief priest of Izumo Taisha. Tracing their origins back to the rulers of the Izumo province way back in the Nara period (Takamasa is the 84th head of the clan), the aristocratic-priestly Senge family has very much stayed in high society to this day, from being involved in politics and governor of Tokyo around 1900 (the shrine had been taken out of their control following the Meiji revolution and the abolition of the nobility), to Kunimaro marrying an Imperial princess (who no longer holds the title as per the rules) in 2014.

February 2020 was weird

In my mind, visiting Oberkirch mid-February 2020 as my last outing before lockdown in Europe. Actually, that's not true - late February I went to Western France and Paris... but this was indeed my last solo excursion. I went for the carnival, which did take place, but Covid was very much on the horizon at that point. So there's something special about looking back at seeing people at the castle, enjoying the views and nature while it was still possible.

Saint Servan and the Solidor Tower

On the right-hand side of the Rance river, just before the fortified city of Saint Malo on the estuary, is the smaller town of Saint Servan. In fact, it technically isn't a town anymore, it was absorbed by Saint Malo in the 1960s. But for most of history, there was a stark contrast between the two, as Saint Malo fiercely proclaimed its autonomy several times. Hence the Solidor Tower.

Consisting of three tightly-bunched round towers and their connections, the Solidor was built in the 14th century by the Dukes of Brittany as a means to control the Rance estuary, against the rebellious Saint Malo if needed.

Like other fortresses, such as the Bastille in Paris or the towers at La Rochelle (another time maybe), its strategic value soon dwindled, and it seemed best-suited to serve as a prison or as storage during the late 18th-early 19th centuries. It has been an officially classified monument since 1886, and had housed a maritime-themed museum since 1970, though this appears to be in limbo and I can't find the tower's current function.

A walk along the coast on the West side of Saint Servan will reveal a bit more history: an old lifeboat station, a small tower in the sea that serves as a tide gauge... further up, a WWII memorial with the remains of concrete bunkers, and further along, a view of Saint Malo. It's a worthwhile detour for people visiting Saint Malo, especially if you're concerned that the city centre will be too crowded. But I think I remember parking here wasn't easy either; on a nice day, the locals who don't want the hassle of "intra-muros" would come here.

Gimont

During my only winter down South, way back when I'd do road trips (solo of course), I set out from Toulouse for a day to visit Auch, with a break in the countryside each way, partly to admire the snow on the Pyrenees. This first picture was taken on the outbound leg, and I forget where it was.

On the return leg, I stopped at Gimont, possibly drawn in by the distinctive church. There is also a Cahuzac Chapel next to the town, which gets a laugh because it has the same name as a former budget minister who was convicted for tax evasion. The shameless git even tried to run for Parliament again once his ineligibility sentence was served. Same name, but no relation, I should stress.

Like a lot of places in this corner of France, there are a lot of brick buildings in Gimont, and some peculiar traditional structures, like the Halle covered market. Inexplicably, a road runs through it.

The town also boasted a world-class motocross track, which hosted rounds of the 250cc World Championship in 1985 and 1990. But in 2019, so not long after my visit, the land owner wanted their turf back, and the Gimont Moto Club has since been looking for another location to open a new circuit. Here's how it rode:

Japan's first Concorso d'Eleganza

A Concorso d'Eleganza is basically a beauty pageant for historic cars. Based on similar contests for horse-drawn carriages, called Concours d'Élégance, the Italian name references the fact that the most famous competition in the genre for cars has taken place in Italy since 1929.

The Japanese version was launched in 2016, with the amusingly-named "Artistic Cars at the World Heritage, since 2016" exhibit at Nijô-jô, Kyôto. I say amusing, because they were using the "since 2016" tag in 2016, and... it hasn't used that name since! Nonetheless, the sight of these immaculately preserved cars in the lovely palace gardens was impressive.

Among the cars built between the 1950s and 1990s, there was an exhibit with rare Zagato specials. Particularly obscure is the Autech Zagato Stelvio, shown above and below. Of the three names, Zagato is the best known: they are an Italian coachbuilder, who make unique bodywork. Autech is a Japanese tuner, working most closely with Nissan. And the Stelvio is a late-80s mix of all that: a modified Nissan Leopard with very unique design choices, such as the wing mirrors in the fenders.

The Concorso d'Eleganza Kyoto is set to resume this year, having been put off due to the pandemic and the restrictions surrounding it since 2020. The principle hasn't changed: they're going to show some remarkable historic cars in a historic Japanese setting - at Nara this time.

Steep stuff: climbing the Hohentwiel

The altitude difference between Singen town centre and Hohentwiel fortress is only around 200 m... but a view of the mountain shows that it's going to be covered in a rather short distance.

To be clear, 18% is the steepest incline on the road, if you're driving a car, and even then, you'll only get to the Hohentwiel Domäne intermediate stop. The footpath starts climbing further around the mountain, and it's more of an 18% average!

The Domäne has a hotel-restaurant, at which I had lunch, providing shelter during a heavy shower! This made me hesitate to push further, and the previous post showed that there were more hovering around. I took a chance, the rain stayed away. Pick up a ticket to the castle and go through the little museum, and it's back to the climb, for pedestrians and cyclists only... still with over 20% in places!

"Stick an aircraft engine in it" part 2a - SNCF Turbotrains

Developed in the late 1960s and introduced in the early 1970s, Turbotrains were France's attempt at higher speed rail. Equipped with lightweight and powerful helicopter-based gas turbines, they were capable of 160 km/h service.

However, that introduction date spelled rapid doom for the ETG (Élément à Turbine à Gaz) and RTG (Rame à Turbine à Gaz) types. They were built so they had to be used, the noise and the 430 L/h consumption rate be damned (3 times the consumption of an equivalent Diesel train, and that's just for the prime mover, add another 150 L/h for the generators), but they were constantly moved away from more prestigious routes as soon as those were electrified.

This 1981 photo by Yves Broncard is one of my favourite "so 1970s" pictures: a gas turbine train at Boulogne Aéroglisseurs station, with a massive SR.N4 car-carrying hovercraft arriving in the background - "stick an aircraft engine in it" mentality taken to the max, on land and sea, a combination that seems irrational today.

The last RTGs were withdrawn in the mid-2000s, and one car, T2057, is preserved at the Cité du Train museum in Mulhouse (top photo). But there is another gas turbine train we need to talk about, the one that first bore the letters TGV...

The fortifications of Wissembourg

From one fortified town to another, just South of the current French-German border: Wissembourg. In a region rife with conflict, between cities and lords, sometimes between a city and their own lord, protective walls, moats and towers around the town were a must.

This tower, called the Poudrière, was built in the 13th century, and served as gunpowder storage at some point, hence the name. The walls in front of it are more recent, dating back to the 16th century, featuring a dam system which would flood the moat if needed. This complex can be seen in the North-East corner of the town on this 1750 map.

Despite these protections, Wissembourg suffered massively between the 15th and 17th centuries. And in spite of all that, the town centre retains much of its original plan and many traditional buildings. I should go back on a nicer day to get better pictures...

Out of service: the Trieste-Opicina tramway

While the reopening of Notre-Dame cathedral in Paris is making big news, and while I'm in a bit of a tram phase on the blogs, spare a thought for the tram line between Trieste and Opicina, closed following an accident in 2016. And it's a real pity, because it was a wacky one.

Trieste is a city by the Adriatic Sea, surrounded by steep hills - and I mean steep. Opicina is 300 m higher, and the tram line features gradients as steep as 26% - link to the Hohentwiel hike for scale. Steel wheels on rails weren't going to be enough...

Initially, the steepest section was built as a rack-and-pinion railway, but in the late 1920s, it was replaced by a funicular system. Cable tractors would be coupled to the streetcars to push them up the hill, and control their descent on the way down - that's the curious boat-like vehicle in the photos (at least I'm getting boat vibes from it). The picture below shows just how steep the climb is.

In the later years of operation, these cable tractors were remotely controlled from the tram. The streetcars themselves date back to 1935, with wooden doors and fittings, making the Trieste-Opicina tramway a charming and technically unique heritage system.

Sadly, the line is not running. Two streetcars collided in 2016, they were repaired, but service has not resumed. One vehicle, coupled to the cable tractor, remains stationary at the foot of the climb, near where the second photo was taken. A look on Google Street View shows that cars are now habitually parked on the disused tracks. The number 2 tram route between Trieste and Opicina is currently served by the number 2/ bus.

Also in Portsmouth harbour in August 2012, also not powered by aircraft engines: the Italian Navy's training ship Amerigo Vespucci.

As explained in Oceanliner Designs' video on the ill-fated Kobenhavn, even after steam had become the prime mover of the world's warships, navies still valued sailors who could operate a fully-rigged sailing ship. Hence training vessels were still built with sail in mind, and are still in use in that capacity today, such as France's Belem, built in 1896, which recently carried the Olympic torch from Greece to Marseille, and Italy's Amerigo Vespucci, built in 1930, which also carried the Olympic torch for the Rome games in 1960, and is basically on a perpetual world tour.

Funnels are clearly visible on this side view, as, like most sailing ships today, other engines are provided, at least for safety when the wind cannot be used. In fact, the Amerigo Vespucci's Diesel engines received a serious upgrade not long after these photos were taken in 2012.

Speaking of 2012, that was the year the replica of the Bounty sank in a hurricane. It too was a sailing ship with Diesel back-ups, and Brick Immortar has a full video on the incident, which includes one of the daftest quotes I have ever heard - I struggle to believe the narrators could say it with a straight face -, with the captain claiming, in the context of sailing near a hurricane, that "a ship is safer at sea than in port."