Today's Flickr photo with the most hits was taken in Valletta, Fort St Elmo, beneath the ramparts; view to Fort Ricasoli.
Apollo, 1st century BCE: Piraeus Archaeological Museum.
The statue was once thought to have been produced much earlier (5th BCE) but is now thought to be an archaicised rendering of the God, from the Hellenistic period.
Today's Flickr photo with the most hits takes us to the Ionian Greek city of Miletus. The silt-laden Meander eventually caused the great harbour city to lose its prosperity and prominence. The remains are a spectacular archaeological treasure to explore.
Here's a remnant of the the Great Harbour and the Monument to Pompey the Great. It was built to commemorate his eradication of the pirate scourge, and (subsequently) Augustus' and Agrippa's defeat of Anthony and Cleopatra, at Actium. (Very astute!)
When the Wind is in the East
James Howell - this poem is on the harbour wall, at Kirkwall
When the wind is in the east, ‘Tis neither good for man nor beast; When the wind is in the north, The skillful fisher goes not forth; When the wind is in the south, It blows the bait in the fishes’ mouth; When the wind is in the west, Then ’tis at the very best.
The Sea is Purple at Piraeus
Erik Lindner
The sea is purple at Piraeus.
A flag creeps out of the campanile when the wind turns.
A man steps over a dog. A woman stoops to rub her eyelid.
In an umbrella shop an umbrella falls off the counter.
A pigeon perching on a narrow branch falls off, flutters, and settles again. The berry out of reach at the end of the twig. The branch that bends, the ruff that bulges when the pigeon shuffles along.
A girl gets on the metro with a desk drawer.
On the thick sand by the breakers an angler slides his rod out horizontally a bike beside him on its kickstand.
He stands with legs apart as if he’s peeing. Birds’ footprints in the sand. The rod arches over the sea.
Today’s Flickr photo with the most hits: the harbour at Piraeus.
Today’s Flickr photo with the most hits: fishing boats in the harbour at Kirkwall, Orkney.
Today’s Flickr photo with the most hits - the harbour at Mallaig, in the West Highlands.
“We’re Not Going To Malta”
Richard Blanco
I often find myself blaming much of my discontent on the place where I live, though in my heart I know that’s not true, just as I know that moving someplace else is no guarantee for happiness. Still, I think we are “wired” to believe, or rather, hope that indeed there is a paradise somewhere waiting for us. This is especially true for me; as a child of exile, I was raised thinking someday we’d return to that paradise that my parents called Cuba. That desire often fuels my wanderlust and is the inspiration behind this light-hearted poem about my ludicrous quest for my Eden, my Avalon, my Shangri-la.
because the winds are too strong, our Captain announces, his voice like an oracle coming through the loudspeakers of every lounge and hall, as if the ship itself were speaking. We’re not going to Malta–an enchanting island country fifty miles from Sicily, according to the brochure of the tour we’re not taking. But what if we did go to Malta? What if, as we are escorted on foot through the walled “Silent City” of Mdina, the walls begin speaking to me; and after we stop a few minutes to admire the impressive architecture, I feel Malta could be the place for me. What if, as we stroll the bastions to admire the panoramic harbour and stunning countryside, I dream of buying a little Maltese farm, raising Maltese horses in the green Maltese hills. What if, after we see the cathedral in Mosta saved by a miracle, I believe that Malta itself is a miracle; and before I’m transported back to the pier with a complimentary beverage, I’m struck with Malta fever, discover I am very Maltese indeed, and decide I must return to Malta, learn to speak Maltese with an English (or Spanish) accent, work as a Maltese professor of English at the University of Malta, and teach a course on The Maltese Falcon. Or, what if when we stop at a factory to shop for famous Malteseware, I discover that making Maltese crosses is my true passion. Yes, I’d get a Maltese cat and a Maltese dog, make Maltese friends, drink Malted milk, join the Knights of Malta, and be happy for the rest of my Maltesian life. But we’re not going to Malta. Malta is drifting past us, or we are drifting past it – an amorphous hump of green and brown bobbing in the portholes with the horizon as the ship heaves over whitecaps wisping into rainbows for a moment, then dissolving back into the sea.
Today's Flickr photo with the most hits: this one of a police phone box in Scarborough. It was taken on a recent jaunt to see family in North Yorkshire.
Today's Flickr photo with the most hits: the Large Basin (East Float) at Birkenhead Docks, taken from the Tower Road bridge.
The buildings visible are the East Float Quay - now apartments and commercial units.
The Sea is Purple at Piraeus
Erik Lindner
The sea is purple at Piraeus. A flag creeps out of the campanile when the wind turns. A man steps over a dog. A woman stoops to rub her eyelid. In an umbrella shop an umbrella falls off the counter. A pigeon perching on a narrow branch falls off, flutters, and settles again. The berry out of reach at the end of the twig. The branch that bends, the ruff that bulges when the pigeon shuffles along. A girl gets on the metro with a desk drawer. On the thick sand by the breakers an angler slides his rod out horizontally a bike beside him on its kickstand. He stands with legs apart as if he’s peeing. Birds’ footprints in the sand. The rod arches over the sea.