Lueve

My Waterloo.

After the Eiffel Tower I had mixed feelings about the Lueve.

Would it be the attack of junk hawkers like the tower or the cultural, artistic, historical museum I had always heard about?

As the bus entered an underground parking place my mind hoped it would be the later.

No junk hawkers anywhere in sight, but we still had to exit the bus. Our long walk up stairs (have I mentioned I have developed at hate for stairs?), walking along an ancient wall and into an area of modern I felt a relaxation and an additional wonder.



Modern in the Lueve?

It was only a passage of shops reaching out to tickle your interest so as to dig into your credit card.

Suddenly you're in a room with an upside down pyramid. It's beautiful!



So many times during our tour we were struck with awe, beauty, amazement, surprise, mouth-dropping sights, and more historical reality than we had ever seen.

We were about to take that step again. Into the Lueve. History awaits us.



I'm an artist. Many people don't look at photography as an art form, but it is. If I had penny, no make that a nickel, for every time someone has looked at my work, asked about the price and then said "I have a camera, I can do that." I'd be a lot closer to being rich.

I smile and say something like, great or good and let it go at that. Sometimes I'm asked "How long did it take you to take that photo?" and I say "All my life."

When pushed into a probing conversation, I tell them to go find that place, wait for that scene, capture that moment, frame it before you take it, composition is vital, remember the rule of thirds, lighting, background, depth of field, horiznal vs vertical, see what no one else sees, lead the viewer into the piece, take more photos and then take more than that, travel to as many places as possible knowing you're probably not going to make any money on most trips, expenses will be greater than income for years, and spend your life developing your eye.

Somewhere, very early in the conversation, I lost them cause they have a camera and can take that picture.

So going to the Lueve was high on my "yes, list."

The herd moved forward. We had our tickets, went through security, and milled around tilled it was decided to divide into three groups of twenty.

Volley number one.



My new - good friend (whom I will talk about in my last update called "Thoughts" Doc and his grandson Lance) stood ready like a race horse to fill his mind with the Lueve.



Unknown to me this photo was very important. Why?

I'm in the Lueve, art is everywhere, it's an artistic Christmas, an artists holiday and my camera battery says "Sorry dude but no more go juice." What, this can't be, I'm at the Lueve and photos are allowed and my battery is dead!

Then I remember I didn't have a chance to recharge my battery last night. Surely this can't be happening. I look and it has captured 894 photos and apparently that was over my time limit.

Volley number two.

Okay, no problem, not the best choice but I have my iPhone and it has a camera. Drawing it out like an old west gunfighter I raise it as I frame a photo.

Click. No picture. You guessed it dead battery. Again my speedy brilliant mind puts two and two together that it if I didn't get to charge my camera battery I also didn't get to charge my iPhone.

Volley number three.

As these frustrations flood me they are joined by the responsibility of trying to herd a group of 20 plus, an interpreter that was hard to understand, from point A to point B in a given time frame.

Much like trying to push a rope uphill or herd cats.

Volley number four.

As our guide moved us through the Lueve our group began to spread out like spilt
milk and as interested as staying together as the two warring armies. No they were not warring, just tired, wanting to find a place to sit (note: chairs and or places to sit in the Lueve are far and few between). They wanted to find some air conditioning and just have time that was theirs to do what they wanted.

Volley number five.

I talked to our guide and agreed to one more exhibit. The Mona Lisa.

Of course, why not after all I didn't have a camera to capture one of the most
historical pieces of art work in the world. Let's go and see it.

The crowd around it was akin to bystanders watching something you could only see from the eye in the sky. It's breathtaking, small, and awesome.

Some of my small herd try to part the crowd and get a few photos. Finally I get our guide to take us back to the upside down pyramid. We have some time before the whole herd gathers so our small herd gets time to do what ever they want.

Billie, Malinda and I grab a bite to eat, something to drink (there were THREE pieces of ice in my diet-coke: ICE!) and find a table to rest our bones. Slowly the herd begins to gather and before to long we start the journey back to our bus.

Walking down more stairs (I hate stairs) my left knee pops like a gun being shot.

Volley number six.

Helped back to the bus I focus on "tonight we're at the Radisson--a hotel, bed, shower and time to recoup."

Neal offers to gather my luggage train of three, backpack, and get them to my assigned room. We find it and he offers to come get them in the morning so I can board the bus to the airport and home.

He tells me "John, you've made it this far, you can do it." I smiled, thanked him for his help (did I tell you Neal was always watching and helping anyone at anytime and I don't remember hearing anyone asking or telling him to do so). This young man has been raised in a very good way.

As an adult - an elder aren't I suppose to be giving him a pep talk and encouraging him?

I spend the evening recovering, repacking, showering, not leaving the room so I wouldn't risk any more knee surprises and sleep.

In the morning my knee is better. I make it downstairs with my repacked luggage train, find a chair and focus on two bus rides, three airports, two planes and home.



As we ride to the airport we see history.



We arrive at the airport.



After we unload from the bus we begin what we know and do so well. Wait, move luggage, wait and move luggage.





The Lueve was my Waterloo, but I was still in the game.

These are the last of my 4,500 plus photos of our tour. We danced before 6,291 people, sharing our dances, talent of our dancers, support of our adults, prayers from parents, family and friends at home, made new friends, saw things, places and sites most people will never see, while being part of a chosen family.

My last post will be a combination of thoughts and other worthless things. Hope you stay with me to the end.

As before I invite anyone wanting an outstanding performance by outstanding Boy and Girl Scout to contact Charles at Kwahadi.com.

John Madden