Cascade De La Serva

While some wait for cherry blossoms as a sign of spring (and this includes me), another sign of the season in Alsace is the stork. Saw my first one in the sky this week - but this photo is from a previous year.

Hello! I just saw your post about the conference. I know it's very niche, but I'd love to hear / read more about your sangaku presentation. I actually went back to Konnō Hachiman-gū this afternoon, hoping to see more examples, but no such luck. (I cannot decipher them, of course, but I taught English at a faculty of engineering, and my students could. Sometimes. )

I'll put together something about the shrine, but どうぞお先に。Nudge nudge hint hint.

Hi, thanks for the message!

The presentation was in two main parts: first the historical context of the Edo period and function of sangaku in developing mathematics during that time, and second a closer look at Kashihara Miminashi Yamaguchi-jinja's example with a modern solution. I can't read the sangaku in full, but I have been able to pick out the parts with numbers and compare some of their results with the formulas.

I can probably put together a mini-series at some point. Which parts would you want to hear more about? (That's a general question btw: anyone can reply and add the conversation of course.)

Schaffhausen's Schwabentor

Schaffhausen has a great preserved historical centre. One of the entries to this would have been the Schwabentor, the Gate of Swabia, and indeed, it faces North, towards the southwestern area of Germany. Built in 1361, it burned down in 1932, and a couple of curious features were added to it during restoration.

As I took photos, a local woman in a car stopped at the red light and told me to "keep my eyes open". What? "Lappi tue d'Augen uf, that's what it says on the tower". I noticed it just after crossing back over.

When the tower was restored in the 1930s ("Renoviert 1933" is just visible above the relief), a road junction had appeared before it, and this sign was added to warn people walking around near the Schwabentor.

Another addition are the clocks, each surrounded by a painting which are clearly 20th-century works. Carl Roesch's tableaux are called Kosmos on the South side, Kreislauf ("Cycle") on the North side, and they depict our lives in the vastness of space, and subject to the inexorable march of time, and Death can be seen at the top of the clock above: modern style it may be, but the symbols are classics.

Notre-Dame... de Strasbourg

I know, I know. Notre-Dame in Paris just reopened. But Notre-Dame is a very common name for churches in France. In fact, we covered one in Le Havre not that long ago, possibly one of the smallest cathedrals in the country. At the other end of the scale, one of the largest, if not still the largest, is Notre-Dame de Strasbourg. Built during the same time period as its Parisian counterpart, its facade has striking similarities: the grand rose, the two square towers at a similar height (66-69 m)... but while Paris stopped in 1345, Strasbourg kept going for almost a century, filling in the space between the towers, and adding a whopping octagonal spire on one side, reaching 142 m above ground.

Of course, there were plans to make the monumental facade symmetric, but the ground under the South tower wouldn't support the weight of 76 m of spire. In fact, huge structural repairs had to be made during the 19th century to avoid collapse.

The cathedral was the world's tallest building for a couple of centuries, from 1647 to 1874. Considering it was completed in 1439... Yeah, it didn't grow, it owed it title to the Pyramids of Giza shrinking from erosion and taller spires on other cathedrals burning down. Then it lost the title when churches in Hamburg, Rouen (another Notre-Dame Cathedral) and Köln were completed.

But talk of records is just talk, and 142 m is just a number, until you're faced with it. My favourite approach to the cathedral, to truly give it is awesome sense of scale, is the one I inadvertently took on my first proper visit to Strasbourg. From the North end of Place Gutenberg, walk along Rue des Hallebardes. The town's buildings will hide the cathedral from view for a moment, only for it to reappear suddenly at the turn of a corner, much closer, the spire truly towering over the surrounding buildings which also dwarf the viewer. I don't pass by there too often, to try to replicate the breathtaking reveal.

PS - We've already done a piece on the astronomical clock housed in the cathedral, an absolute treasure.

Statement on my Instagram regarding Meta's moderation policy updates

Meta's updated policy on hate speech can best be described as... "weird", I guess.

The highlighted sentence, which is factually inept, is what is causing the uproar. Political and religious discourse on homosexuality, or any other group of people for that matter, does not use, and has never used, unsubstantiated allegations of mental illness or the word "weird" in a light or "non-serious" way. They are always used with the ulterior motive to discredit and stigmatise, and make exclusion of said group, a core element of the law & order doctrine they aspire to. But this is now explicitly permitted on Facebook and Instagram.

The law in most European countries currently does not allow this double standard on hate speech. While this does offer protection to all citizens in the applicable countries, the fact that Meta is in open disagreement with these protections, regardless of the reason, is something to think about.

I will be evaluating my presence on this platform [Instagram] in the coming days and weeks. Meanwhile, a normal blogging schedule will be maintained on the companion Tumblr. Cheers.

Back to the Arzviller-Henridorff lock ladder

I took my own advice and returned to Arzviller to walk the full section of closed canal. It turns out the upper part is less overgrown and more active than the lower end. I'd only gone from the bottom lock, n°17, up to lock n°14 (under the railway bridge) at the time.

Starting from the top, the house at lock n°2 is a crêperie restaurant, while lock n°4 is a gîte complete with a private fishing pier. I counted four lock houses with some form of art going (n°2, 10, 13 and 15). The other lock houses are more or less well-maintained residences. There are no houses standing at locks n°14 and 17.

The Vallée des Éclusiers, or Lock-keepers' Valley, is well worth the wander. The quickest is either to drive there or cycle from Lutzelbourg station. But more on the logistics tomorrow - for now, let's enjoy lock n°9, probably the most dramatic on the route.

After that news post, back to Thann, for this view of the Thur valley and the Vosges mountains. On the day of my visit, I climbed here first, before continuing along a ridge to the Grumbach summit and down to the Grumbach pass, before circling back down to Engelbourg Castle which I posted about first. A nice hike, not too difficult - most of the climbing is done when you've reached the Roche Albert viewpoint. There's something to be said about why it's called "Albert's Rock", but I'll save that for another time.

381 series: the last of the JNR-era electric express trains

We mentioned the upcoming withdrawal of the Doctor Yellow Shinkansen track inspection trains, but there is another retirement I've wanted to talk about as it's just happened, and it's a train I had the chance to ride last summer.

Launched in 1973, the 381 series was the Japanese National Railways (JNR) first tilting electric express train, designed to speed up the Shinano limited express services on the winding mountainous route between Nagoya and Nagano. The tilting compensates for G-forces inside the carriages, allowing the train to take curves up to 25 km/h faster without creating passenger discomfort. As such, it is already a significant piece of railway history, with JR Tokai preserving one lead car at its SC Maglev Railway Park museum in Nagoya.

Over the next 50 years, the 381s would be moved around whenever they were superseded on specific routes, but soldier on nonetheless. Their last services would be JR West's Yakumo limited express between Okayama and Izumo, another route with lots of hills and curves. Now, it is replaced by brand new 273 series sets, based on JR West's current express train design, still with tilt.

The 381 series lived through the entire L-tokkyû period, in which many limited express services were marketed with an L symbol signifying higher levels of convenience. This logo was phased out in the 2000s and 2010s largely due to all JR limited expresses running to L-tokkyû standards, and as far as I can tell, the 381s are likely the last trains to wear the L badge, as well as the classic JNR express chevron seen above, on a regular basis.

さようなら381系

Moissac: home to the world's best grapes (IMO)

Located on the river Tarn in southwestern France, Moissac is most famous for its grapes, specifically Chasselas. This green, sweet and thin-skinned grape is just marvellous, my personal favourite, and Chasselas de Moissac season is a sure sign that Autumn is nearly here.

When I saw that Moissac wasn't too far from where I was living at the time, of course I had to visit, and as the photos demonstrate, it was well worth the trip on a sunny, unseasonably warm early November day (I ate lunch on the terrace at the restaurant, that's insane for November!).

The heart of the town is its 11th-century Romanesque abbey. The monks there had a vineyard to tend to (what else?), and as the railways and tourism developed in the 19th century, Moissac envisioned becoming a "uval resort", in the same vein as thermal or seaside resorts, only with grapes as the centre theme. A full uval complex didn't come to fruition, but the local grapes began to be transported out of the region for the rest of France to appreciate. Cheers!

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.