Yesterday I wrote of hand painted shop signs and the death rates associated with New Year travel. It got me thinking about what I might consider it is worth dying on the return home from.
"He would be happy that he first got to see..." they could say at the funeral. Alternatively, an unexpected shunt on the way there and it could be that "He would have been a tad disappointed that he was close and yet so far."
Oh crikey, I'm writing self indulgently about my funeral and making to see lists. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear...
i. Salk Institute where the son roller skated in a self made movie for his father, Louis Kahn
ii. Notre Dame du Haut / Ronchamp Cathedral and nuns with the wing things on their hats
iii.Yosemite or the Arches
iv. The buttes of the cowboy westerns
v. Nazca drawings in the desert
vi. Bangladesh and National Assembly Building, another Louis Kahn chunk of brick and arch
vii. More of the Antarctic
viii.The stone heads on Easter Island
ix. Berlin, the Wall and the Gate
x. Japan and sumo wrestlers in the basha
xi. Everest, a helicopter flight would have me wetting myself
xii. Any volcano that glows red and orange at night, and is still throwing molten lava to the sky
xiii. The middle of the Pacific Ocean, with no land in sight for two days
xiv. Scottish lochs and castles
xv. Red Square, Moscow having arrived by train from the east
xvi. Anywhere to see a rocket launch that puts a man into space
I'd like to revisit a few places too; the advantage with those is that I can sit and remember them, with my headphones on drinking a cup of tea.
(A couple of shots from Brooklyn, there)