A Rose Garden and a Sausage Tree

  Anything is possible in the Sunshine State. This, if you have never seen one before, is a sausage tree. I had never seen one before either but as we explored more of the Ringling Museum grounds (see below) we came upon this.

What is this freak of nature, we asked ourselves. Then we saw the little sign.

"Sausage Tree", it said. "Pinnata Kigelia", it said. "Africa", it said. Well you could have fooled me. A hair tree perhaps, or one of the BBC's fabled spaghetti trees perhaps, but a sausage tree? Must be those Africans having a joke. And then my companion spotted this:

Aha. It didn't look much like a hot dog, or a banger, though it could, at a pinch,  pass for one of those French andouillettes. This specimen was one of the few left on the tree. The others had all been eaten. And we found a sausage flower too, lying on the ground.

After which my companions, having had enough of walking, hopped on an obliging trolley.

I hopped on with them for a few yards, taking a pic of the Ringling mansion rapidly receding into the distance..

... then hopped off again at the sign for "Rose Garden". Of course, I didn't really expect to see a rose garden. It was January after all. There was a fetching shepherd.

And shepherdess

And then, lo and behold...

Roses in bloom.  Wow. Florida is truly a little miracle. I liked this dusky colour, or dusty - like an old artificial flower on a grave, except it was alive. It was called "Koko Loko".

Pretty - but I didn't catch her name.

This one was called "Chicago Peace" ..

Which some people might call an oxymoron. Here's Diana,  Princess of Wales. (Trust the Americans to have one.)

And this is Sweet Surrender.

With palm trees. Only in Florida.

Warbirds Are Go!

Dateline: Venice, Florida

America's equivalent of the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight was back in town today. We hoofed it down to watch from the airport perimeter fence. The Flying Fortress, the Liberator, the Mitchell and the Mustang were due to fly in from Tampa between 1 and 2pm but some people had been waiting a lot longer than that. All sorts of cars and trucks had pulled up on the grass. We stood, squinting at the sky and two of them swooped beautifully over us but of course I didn't have the camera, only binoculars.  Then came a third..

The Flying Fortress was coming in to land.

And here she is, taxiing by.

 And here's the Liberator, parked at the airport, with the Mustang in the distance.

Ironic to see these noble planes at the same airport where the 9/11 terrorists learned to fly (but not to land.)

Bob's yer Cat

You never know what you're going to find at Golden Beach. I was about to walk out through the beach access after my sunrise jog this morning and spotted something between the benches that didn't look as if it belonged there.

Someone's kitty? Well not exactly...

It was a big bobcat, completely unperturbed. He spotted me and instead of scarpering, started to saunter towards me.  He looked as if he wanted me to tickle him under his chin. 

Remembering the recent shenanigans reported in the local paper when one of his relatives broke into someone's house and nearly zombified the inhabitants, I was disinclined to oblige.  I retreated to a safe distance and waited for him to go away.  He certainly took his time before loping off in the direction of the next door block of flats. Lock up your dachshunds. 

   I thought the wildlife in rural western New York was exciting but this place is a veritable zoo. As well as the enormous coyote spotted last week sniffing around the dustbins round the corner on Coral drive, I've encountered, an armadillo, big black snakes on the patio and far too many rabbits and squirrels. Not to mention the neighbour down the road who was out sunning himself the other day.

And that's even without the birds.

Not Just a Circus Owner

 We finally got round to visiting the Ringling Museum of Art in Sarasota. The Ringlings being the circus owners (see below). This was the collection that John and Mable (yes, she spelt it that way) Ringling amassed and built a gallery to house. The mediaeval church art was wonderful, except there was little in the way of signs and labels to say what it was. I loved this Madonna..

And this glorious altarpiece

And cherubs cradling the baby Jesus. This one we know was by Gaudenzio Ferrari (d.1546) who dabbled in art before he started manufacturing cars..

The 17th century artist of the painting below is known as the Master of the Sarasota Emmaus because they don't know much more about him. Could have been Dutch, could have been Italian. I don't think his atelier  was on the Gulf Coast of Florida.

 This was a Velazquez - Philip lV of Spain - got to be, with that chin.

And here, adding to the wow factor was a Rubens of the Archduke Ferdinand.

In the grounds were gargantuan banyan trees - those long snaky things are actually the roots. You see a lot of them around here.

And then towards the waterfont was the Ringlings' own mansion (I notice that word is used a lot more in America), called Ca' d'Zan. This means John's house in the Venetian dialect. Appropriate, since the stately pile was modelled on a Venetian palazzo.

We took the cheapo self-guided tour - which meant we could only see the ground floor.

This was the ballroom ceiling, depicting dancers.

 And this the living room. I've got a pink sofa just like that.

 You might have a thing or two to say about the Ringlings' taste but this door with coloured glass panes looking out to the bay was a nice touch.

This was one of Mable's more modest get-ups.

You'd have to be careful not to put your wine glass down on that chest.

The wrought iron door was to stop the dogs going into the dining room. Presumably the elephants didn't have a problem with it.

Drat - wouldn't you know, I just bought myself a plastic orange peeler. I could have had one of these natty silver jobs.

 Got to have the Flemish tapestries just like everyone else.

All ready for beans on toast - oh I forgot, Americans don't eat them on toast.

I liked the bar, though, but it wasn't open.

This was a fridge. Makes a change from stainless steel. And guess what, we've got that kitchen floor too!

 And this, presumably, was the microwave.

The Ringlings had a handsome boat, the Zalophus. They certainly had imagination when it came to names.

 They tied it up to their own marble dock.

 And here's a side-view of the palazzo.

I asked one of the museum volunteers in some astonishment, "He made all that money by running a Circus? But no, of course not, he had the usual side interests - railways, land, property, whatever. It was certainly a splendid place to visit and we weren't finished yet.
to be continued.

Lucky People

Dateline: Venice, Florida

There are fortunate people in this world for whom rules and laws do not apply. Sometimes I wish I was one of them.  When I was on our quiet beach the other morning and encountered a lady with a large black dog, I was cross. There is a law here that says dogs may not use the beach. They have a dog beach not that far away.  If my neighbours walk their dogs they stick to the roads. But not this lady, oh no. When I asked her politely whether she had some kind of special permission to take her dog on the beach she said, "No, but he really doesn't like the dog beach; the other dogs chase him."  I suggested that, if everyone else took that attitude, where would we be? There are industrial quantities of dogs in Venice, dogs of all shapes and sizes. If they all decided the laws didn't apply to them, the beach would be bedlam.
And then last week there she was again and again this morning, or it was someone remarkably like her.  Aha - incriminating footprints ..

 And you can just about spot them under the pier but too far away to challenge. There appeared to be a companion too, perhaps for protection against the likes of me.

 But it wouldn't do any good. This person obviously has a blind spot when it comes to self-interest. I think of my friend whose dear old dog would probably love nothing more than to frolic on the beach but she keeps to the rules and doesn't take him there. Good on her.

Goodbye, Greatest Show

  Many people here in Venice, Florida were sad to hear the news that the Greatest Show on Earth is over.  Or almost over. 

After nearly 150 years, one of the most iconic of American  attractions, the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus has announced it will give its farewell performance in May.

  There are other circuses still going but it seems that kids nowadays prefer smartphones to the smell of sawdust. Computer games provide more spectacular thrills and spills than the Big Top.  I think the last time I went to a circus was on my first ever visit to the United States in the 1970s, when friends took me to a five-ring circus – yes, you had to swivel your head around at lightning speed to catch five acts going on simultaneously. At that time, two rival circuses were both advertising on prime time TV, both claiming to surpass the other in  extravaganza.   Circuses were that important. 

  Then of course there's the animal rights movement – Ringling Brothers strongly denied allegations of cruelty to their performing elephants and successfully sued for damages but in the end decided, for the sake of peace and quiet, to pension them off to a sanctuary.  Ironically it was the act that apparently appealed most to children. Audience numbers dropped off after that.

  Far from being outlets for awe and wonder, traditional circuses these days  seem, not just musty and old-fashioned but slightly shady. Notice what a bad press clowns have got recently – you’re more likely to associate them with Halloween and horror films than innocent slapstick comedy.

  I’ve found myself picking up on all this because Venice was once the Ringling Brothers Circus winter home.  The old practice arena was only pulled down a couple of years ago. There’s a bridge called the “Circus Bridge” and a circus camp on the outskirts of town where kids can learn how to wrangle with the flying trapeze, though whenever I've driven past, its been deserted. 

   Farther up the coast in Sarasota,  St Martha’s church is America’s “National Circus Church”,  and known locally as the “church the circus built”.   The priest would bless the humans and animals as they returned up north.  Wheels from old circus wagons decorate the church walls and yes, our friend the stuffed lion (see below) has pride of place in the parish hall. When St Martha’s needed money for a new building, legendary circus artistes  like clown Emmett Kelly and the Wallenda family of tightrope walkers held benefits in the grounds to raise funds.

  Then there's the Ringling family (on which more later), who donated their Sarasota mansion and land for a circus museum, which we visited a few days ago - here's one of the ornate old wagons - 

 and art gallery.  Also on display is an extraordinary miniature circus, said to be the size of an (American) football field. It has everything, from the elephants emerging from the circus train

 the animals going to the Big Top

 the stalls outside

 the public queuing up

 to see the action

even authentic cars in the car park.

Ghostly circus music played and it all brought a lump to my throat.

   

   And back here  in Venice, there’s a disused railway station, 

now a museum, with a swashbuckling statue of Gunther Gebel-Williams, Ringling Brothers’  most famous lion-tamer. 

 He was said to have entertained  millions of people in more than 12,000 consecutive performances.  He died in 2001, aged only 66 -  miraculously of natural causes.  The statue has a plaque noting his philosophy, that human beings and animals should “work, live and thrive together in harmony”.  The lions’ comments weren’t recorded.   

  “He was the greatest wild animal trainer who ever lived”, sighed the museum volunteer wistfully, when we were there on a previous visit.  In a converted railway caboose (guards' van) 

he showed us dusty cases full of circus memorabilia, like miniature model wagons carrying  exotic animals, pulled by elephants in red coats. And he reminded us that the very railway station we were standing in used to welcome the circus train down for the winter.

  Political correctness aside, I can’t help feeling a little nostalgic. These days, kids probably look at Gunther’s statue and ask, “What’s a lion tamer?”