Silent Stories#2

Statues have a way of finding me. I don't set out to photograph them, yet they appear—in plazas, gardens, and street corners—each with its own silent story. Some are famous, others almost forgotten, but all of them invite a pause. Perhaps they fascinate me because public statues are relatively uncommon back home in Malaysia, so every encounter feels like discovering a small piece of another culture. What began as a simple fascination has become a journey of discovering the stories hidden within these silent works of art. 

Here’s the second encounter in my Silent Stories series — another statue that found me.

Equestrian statue of Louis XIV

The sculpture of King Louis XIV in the Cour Napoléon of the Louvre (near the I.M. Pei Pyramid) is a lead cast replica of an original equestrian statue by Italian Baroque master Gian Lorenzo Bernini. Installed in 2009, this casting was made in 1988 from the original marble masterpiece currently housed at the Palace of Versailles.

Historical Background

In 1665, the young king Louis XIV ("The Sun King") invited Bernini to Paris to design a new facade for the Louvre Palace. While Bernini's architectural designs for the Louvre were ultimately rejected in favor of French classical styles, his portrait bust of the king was a massive success, leading the king to commission an equestrian statue.

The Saga of the Original Statue

Bernini did not finish the equestrian statue until 1677, years after he left Paris. When Louis XIV finally viewed the completed piece, he hated it. He ordered it destroyed, but was persuaded instead to have it relegated to the grounds of Versailles. He later commissioned French sculptor François Girardon to "fix" the statue. Girardon modified the king's facial features, changed the mane, and altered the context so the sculpture depicted the Roman hero Marcus Curtius sacrificing himself, rather than Louis XIV. Today, the modified original remains on display at the Palace of Versailles in the Orangerie.

A Cat Between Centuries

 Walking the castle walls of Dubrovnik, you expect battlements, sea views, and echoes of history. What you don’t expect is a ginger cat, sun-drunk and serene, sprawled across an air-conditioning compressor—two legs dangling, eyes half closed, completely surrendered to the moment.

The vines creep, the tiles glow, the walls whisper of knights and merchants. And then there’s this feline philosopher, reminding us that history and modernity often meet in the most ordinary corners.

It’s a perfect little anachronism: medieval fortifications built to withstand sieges, now sharing space with humming machines of modern comfort—and a cat who couldn’t care less about either. No ambition. No deadlines. No emails. Just solar-powered happiness.

I think cats have already solved life—we’re the ones overcomplicating it.

Maybe that’s Dubrovnik’s charm: it’s not just a museum of stone, but a living city where cats nap on air-conditioners, tourists wander the ramparts, and time folds in on itself.

Silent Stories#1

Statues have a way of finding me. I don't set out to photograph them, yet they appear—in plazas, gardens, and street corners—each with its own silent story.  Some are famous, others almost forgotten, but all of them invite a pause. 

 Perhaps they fascinate me because public statues are relatively uncommon back home in Malaysia, so every encounter feels like discovering a small piece of another culture.

I'm beginning a new statue series. This week's encounter is the first piece from my growing gallery of statues discovered along the way.

Bronze statue of "Agriculture" located on the Queen Victoria Memorial outside Buckingham Palace.

• Name: Agriculture

• Sculptor: Designed by Sir Thomas Brock and unveiled in 1911.

• Symbolism: An allegorical representation of farming and harvest, depicting a woman in peasant attire holding a sickle alongside a powerful walking lion symbolising British national strength and power.

• Origin: Gifted to the monument by the people of New Zealand, together with its counterpart.

• Location: One of the four outer corner bronze groups of the monument directly outside the gates of Buckingham Palace in London.

• Part of a Series: Represents Agriculture, one of four allegorical groups symbolising the nation's Victorian-era ideals: Agriculture, Manufacture (Industry), Peace, and Progress.

"Inanimate objects sometimes appear endowed with a strange power of sight. A statue notices, a tower watches, the face of an edifice contemplates"      Victor Hugo

Coffee, Cats, and Castle Walls

 I love finding little things like this when travelling. It's not a famous landmark or a must-see attraction, but somehow a weathered bench decorated with quirky signs ended up being one of the most memorable photo opportunities of the day.

Would you have guessed that this bench was found in Dubrovnik, tucked amongst the old castle walls?

You expect medieval battlements, sea views, and solemn stone, and then suddenly you stumble across cheeky signs about beer, coffee, and cats!

That’s the kind of detail that turns a photo into a memory worth keeping — the city reminding you not to take it too seriously, offering a smile in the middle of its grandeur.

The Art of the “Almost Perfect” Travel Photo

Every traveler knows the thrill of spotting the perfect view — that fleeting second when the light, the angle, and the subject all fall into place.

That’s what happened during our guided tour of Paris. As our private coach rolled across the Pont Alexandre III in Paris, I looked out the window and snapped what felt like a masterpiece: dramatic gray skies, ornate lampposts, and the Eiffel Tower rising in the distance.

But taking photos from a moving vehicle is always a gamble. Just when you think you’ve beaten the odds, something unexpected sneaks into the frame. In my case, it wasn’t motion blur or reflections — it was the giant “Fasten Seatbelts” sticker plastered on the bus window, cutting straight through the historic artwork like an uninvited guest.

One second I had Paris at its most cinematic, the next I had a safety reminder photobombing my perfect shot.

Thankfully, the wonders of modern AI came to the rescue for my own shot.

The cleaned‑up version without its sticker cameo, finally revealing the bridge in all its glory

Meanwhile, at the back of the bus, another “almost perfect” photo saga was unfolding. A lively group had decided this was the moment for the ultimate wefie. They were loud, laughing, and determined to get it right. First click — someone wasn’t ready and shouted to fix her hair. Second click — another insisted she needed to put on lipstick. Third click — just as everyone finally looked their best, the coach plunged straight into a tunnel. The photo? Pitch black. The reaction? Roaring laughter that echoed through the bus, with the rest of us in stitches at their timing.

Say cheese… wait, where’d the light go?

Frog Crossing

One of the more unexpected sights at Croatia's Plitvice Lakes National Park wasn't a waterfall or a lake, but this road sign.

At first glance, it looks almost comical — a large warning triangle paired with the silhouette of a startled frog. Yet the sign serves a serious purpose. Plitvice's forests, streams, and wetlands are home to numerous amphibian species, and during certain times of the year frogs migrate between breeding and feeding areas. Roads that cut through these habitats can become dangerous crossing points, making wildlife warning signs an important part of conservation efforts.

The park itself is famous for its chain of 16 terraced lakes connected by waterfalls, but its biodiversity extends far beyond the water. The surrounding forests support a rich variety of plants and animals, including bears, wolves, lynx, birds, reptiles, and amphibians.

Still, what I remember most is the contrast. Here I was in one of Europe's most celebrated national parks, surrounded by autumn colours and ancient woodland, and the most eye-catching warning sign wasn't about falling rocks or sharp bends — it was a reminder to watch out for frogs.

A small sign, perhaps, but also a reminder that in places like Plitvice, even the smallest residents matter.

💌 Note: Amalia commented that one of the frogs could be a prince — such a cute thought! 🪧🐸👑

An Ordinary Moment on an Extraordinary Day

On the very last day of our Balkans trip in 2024, I caught one final glimpse of medieval Kotor before boarding the bus to the airport. The stone arches, weathered by centuries of empires, wars, earthquakes, and countless generations, stood quietly as they always have.

And yet, on this particular day, they framed nothing more dramatic than a local out walking his dogs — an ordinary moment unfolding against an extraordinary backdrop.

No costumes, no reenactments, no tourist spectacle — just a quiet reminder that history isn’t only behind us, but still alive, woven into the rhythm of ordinary moments.

Tulips Against the Chill, Memories Against the Heat

Back in 2019 at the Keukenhof festival, I stumbled upon this striking arrangement of tulips by the fountain and couldn’t resist stopping for a photo. The morning was cold and misty, yet the flowers seemed to breathe life into the entire garden.

Coming from tropical Malaysia, tulips are a rare sight — usually imported at steep prices, and never in such abundance. Seeing them here, with people wrapped in coats and scarves against the chill — instead of the usual tees, shorts, and flip‑flops we wear to beat the unrelenting heat — felt like stepping into another world.

Even now, looking at this photo brings back the memory of that peaceful spring morning in Europe: crisp air, gentle mist, vibrant colors, and the quiet rhythm of visitors strolling through the gardens. A world so different from the humid heat of home, yet one that lingers in my mind like a cherished postcard. 🌷✨

The Birdman of Porto

While wandering the streets of Porto, I came across this extraordinary street performer surrounded by birds perched calmly on his curious collection of masks, chimes, sticks and musical contraptions.

The centerpiece of it all was a hurdy‑gurdy — a medieval string instrument he cranked by hand, producing a droning, violin‑like sound that blended with the gentle chiming of his setup.

The birds seemed completely at ease, as if they were part of the performance — quietly observing the crowd from their little perches while the whole assemblage gently chimed and clinked in the breeze.

Naturally, I went home and tried to Google him. Surely someone this unusual must be famous, right? But surprisingly, I found almost nothing about him.

Who is he?
A local character? A travelling performer? A well-known busker that everyone in Porto recognizes but nobody has written about?

Sometimes the most memorable people in a city leave the smallest trace on the internet.

If anyone knows the story behind Porto’s mysterious bird busker, I’d love to hear it.

Note: A kind reader has shared fascinating background in the comments about the instrument being a book organ (not a hurdy gurdy), including how it works and its maker, Sebastian Schulze. Do check the comments section for their full explanation

The Iberian Lynx in Lisbon – Trash Turned Treasure

It’s street art that can feel a little unsettling at first glance, yet also playful depending on how you see it. You’ll find the Iberian Lynx sculpture in a parkland setting near the river estuary, not far from the Parc des Nações district—a striking mix of color, texture, and perspective.

 Standing proudly on the waterfront at Parque das Nações, the Iberian Lynx sculpture by Bordalo II is more than just eye-catching street art. Built entirely from discarded plastics, textiles, and scrap materials, it transforms waste into a vibrant reminder of what’s at stake: the survival of one of Europe’s most endangered species.

🐾 Why it matters:

• The Iberian Lynx once teetered on the brink of extinction.

• Bordalo II’s work highlights how human consumption and pollution threaten fragile ecosystems.

• By turning trash into art, he forces us to confront the impact of our choices while celebrating resilience and beauty.

🌍 A message in color: Every patch of fabric, every piece of plastic, tells a story of waste repurposed into awareness. The lynx’s piercing gaze and bold form invite us to rethink what we throw away—and what we stand to lose if we don’t act.

image source - https://www.nathab.com/blog/iberian-lynx-make-a-remarkable-recovery-in-portugal

The Iberian lynx is the world’s rarest wild cat — and one of conservation’s biggest comeback stories. Once on the brink of extinction with fewer than 100 left in the wild, this spotted feline with its dramatic ear tufts and beard-like whiskers is now slowly reclaiming parts of Spain and Portugal thanks to massive rescue efforts.

The Sobriety Test You Didn’t Expect

If you ever find yourself at Rossio Square, beware of the wavy tiles! They’re famous for creating that optical illusion where the ground looks like it has random speed bumps popping up — but don’t worry, it’s actually flat (I double-checked before blaming my eyesight).

Walking across it is already confusing enough when you’re sober… so I definitely wouldn’t recommend trying it after a drink too many. You’ll start wondering whether it’s the pavement moving or you. 😂

The Inverted Face

Just outside the monastery in Montserrat stands a striking modern sculpture often referred to as the “inverted face.” Unlike the sacred figures inside, this belongs to Montserrat’s contemporary art collection, where perception and illusion are central themes.

The face appears hollowed inward rather than fully formed, which creates a strange effect: no matter where you stand, it feels like it is looking directly at you. This isn’t supernatural—it’s a well-known visual phenomenon caused by how the brain processes faces. We are so strongly wired to expect faces to be convex (protruding outward) that when we see a concave one, our mind automatically “corrects” it. As a result, the eyes and expression seem to follow us as we move.

The sculpture itself does not move—but our perception of it does.

From one angle it reads as a face, from another it dissolves into abstraction. That tension between what is real and what the mind insists on seeing is precisely what makes it so unsettling.

There’s no official connection to Montserrat’s stranger folklore or extraterrestrial stories. But in a place already wrapped in legend and silence, even a psychological illusion can feel like something more.