I Saw It Once! Kind Of.

Le moulin rouge du Moulin Rouge a perdu ses pales!

Was going to take a break from posting today, but we had a bit of breaking news out of Paris: the famous cabaret Moulin Rouge's red windmill has lost its sails! They fell off at around 2 in the morning apparently, cause unknown. No injuries.

Article France Bleu Paris

Three castles above Éguisheim

The village of Husseren-les-Châteaux is a peculiar one: at 1.2 km², it is the smallest commune in Southern Alsace, totally surrounded by Éguisheim. Beyond the vineyards, in the hills above the village and on the border with Éguisheim, are three castles, separated by... nothing.

Unlike other places where several castles can be found, such as Andlau or Ribeauvillé, this was only one unit, with the Dagsbourg and Weckmund being extensions of the original Wahlenbourg in the middle. Each section had its own dungeon.

I visited with my sister on a very overcast day two years ago, with low cloud descending on the hills. It made for some moody shots. We weren't alone up there - which was probably helpful! Also we used a car, and the car park isn't far, so it wasn't a creepy hike up or down.

As for the castle itself, it was destroyed during the Six Deniers War in 1466. The Habsburgs intended to conquer Mulhouse, and used the flimsy pretext of a miller being owed six deniers to start the invasion. But Mulhouse found allies in neighbouring Swiss cantons (before the Swiss Confederation was a thing) and won, taking out the fortress of Éguisheim along the way... as well as the miller whose complaint gave the Habsburgs the excuse they were waiting for.

I had to do Eckwersheim village justice on the way to the canal and the memorial shown yesterday, and took the time to walk through it. As it is part of the Strasbourg Metropolitan Area, buses go there, and it's a rather nice ride through several villages, nearly all of which end in 'heim. And all these villages, within easy reach of the city, have at least a few streets with charming, timber-framed buildings, some richly decorated, with flowers and ornaments like the one above. An Alsatian village in rose season is quite the treat.

This building is evidently a restaurant, with the menus chalked up on the gate! I was there on a Monday morning but no menu on display - maybe it was too early, or maybe they weren't going to open because it was a national holiday - kind of. Pentecost in France got weird after 2003 and I don't fully understand it. Let's enjoy that door some more instead.

And it wouldn't be a lovely day in Alsace without storks!

The abandoned Arzviller-Henridorff "lock ladder"

On my return to the Plan Incliné (previous post) in 2021, I added a walk along some of the section that the boat lift bypassed. The canal behind this door (lock n°17) has been closed and emptied, the tranquil flow replaced by an overgrown stream, but the paths along it have been maintained, and some sections added to improve the walking or cycling experience.

The lock houses, homes to the workers, are still standing, some used by artists as galleries and workshops.

The boat lift was created to bypass a system of 17 consecutive locks which took a whole day to traverse. I didn't go along the whole route to lock n°1 (I probably would have if Arzviller train station was still open), but beyond the "lock ladder" on the Western side is a 2 km canal tunnel, still in service today and a bit of a traffic jam, as it isn't wide enough for two boats to pass.

I probably should walk the whole route one day. As it's along a canal, it should be easy gradients, it's just the distance between Réding and Lutzelbourg train stations that needs to be covered. I think it'll be worth it, and a chance to see the entrances to the tunnels too.

Hashigui-iwa

Since the news took us back to Kushimoto, it's worth looking at another of the town's attractions, besides the southernmost point of Honshû and the nearby lighthouse. Up the coast is a remarkable rock formation known as Hashigui-iwa, which one could translate as "bridge column rocks", as if a viaduct used to settle on top of them.

These aren't standing stones in the archaeological sense of the term like Stonehenge (a popular spot for the winter solstice that also just happened), they weren't moved into a line and raised. Instead, they were originally an incrustation of magma in an otherwise less hard soil. The magma cooled off before becoming lava, and the ocean eroded the sediment around it. This would have created a wall of igneous rock, up to 15 m high and nearly a kilometre long. The wall was then smashed by a tsunami, leaving these tall rocks behind, and a beach of debris.

In the background of this photo, we see the bridge between the Shionomisaki peninsula and the island of Ôshima, where another lighthouse and monument to Japanese-Turkish friendship is located. There's a story behind that (the wreck of the Ertugrul), and I wish that was a segue, but I didn't visit Ôshima. On a hot day, energy isn't limitless so I had to choose...

Izumo Taisha's rabbits

@shoku-and-awe made a great post on the rabbit statues at Izumo Taisha and why they're there, so I'll only add that they are all over the shrine's grounds, and as far as East as the Ancient Izumo History Museum.

In the gardens, the rabbits are depicted doing all kinds of things: reading a book, taking pictures, birdwatching... Yes, all that!

And of course, there are a lot of rabbits facing the shrine buildings and praying.

The plaque behind these two recognises Senge Takamasa and Kunimaro, father and son, current and presumed future chief priest of Izumo Taisha. Tracing their origins back to the rulers of the Izumo province way back in the Nara period (Takamasa is the 84th head of the clan), the aristocratic-priestly Senge family has very much stayed in high society to this day, from being involved in politics and governor of Tokyo around 1900 (the shrine had been taken out of their control following the Meiji revolution and the abolition of the nobility), to Kunimaro marrying an Imperial princess (who no longer holds the title as per the rules) in 2014.

Schwarzwaldpokal!

Finally, as someone who used to watch a lot of it, I've been to a ski jumping event in person! And it wasn't just jumping, it was nordic combined, which sees a jump followed by cross-country skiing; the same people, doing both. It happened today at Schonach, in the Black Forest, next to Triberg and all those cuckoo clocks.

The hill was built in October 1924, and is therefore celebrating its 100th anniversary, hence the big "100" on the knoll. Much younger is the concept of the Womens' Nordic Combined World Cup - it only exists since 2020! Ski jumping has been the final frontier for women in winter sport, so it was great to see men and women compete.

The longest jump of the day was 102 m, twice, for Norway's Jarl Magnus Riiber and Austria's Thomas Rettenegger. In the womens' contest, Germany's Maria Gerboth took the lead with 95 m.

The competitions follow the Gundersen format, in which the jump comes first, and the gaps in points after that equate to time handicaps at the start of the cross-country race. Above left are the time penalties for some in the womens' race, and right, the start, with the top three starting almost together, while the others must wait. The race is effectively a pursuit, with the athlete crossing the line first being the winner.

In the end, Norway were unbeatable today. Despite starting with a 25-second handicap, Ida Marie Hagen took the lead of the womens' 4 km race in the middle of the first lap and didn't look back, celebrating her upcoming win in the final corner (left picture)! Nathalie Armbruster got the host nation's only podium of the day, ahead of the Kasai twins from Japan.

The mens' race was longer, at 10 km, and required more effort management. On the final lap, Jarl Magnus Riiber lost his long-held lead to Jens Luras Oftebro (right picture), who would defeat Austria's Johannes Lamparter in the final sprint to the finish.

All in all, a great day. Fresh in the morning, especially with the hill in shade, which also made photos more difficult, nice in the sunshine in the afternoon, the races were easy to follow (it was surprising how much of the cross-country course we could see), the atmosphere was really pleasant, and I wasn't going it alone for a change!

Everything is ready for Tuesday! How this particular configuration works, as well as the one below, will be covered - we can talk about it on here too afterwards if anyone's interested.

C'est avec grand plaisir que je présenterai le mardi 16 avril à la Maison Universitaire France-Japon de Strasbourg une conférence sur la géométrie pendant la période d'Edo, avec en support le sangaku de Kashihara. Entre grande Histoire et petits calculs. Lien vers les détails 4月16日(火)、ストラスブール市の日仏大学会館に江戸時代の算額についてコンファレンスをします。楽しみにしています！ Looking forward to giving a conference on Edo-period geometry on 16 April at Strasbourg's French-Japanese Institute. Expect a few posts about Kashihara around then. Has it really been 6 years?...

July 1830: the Revolution I forgot

This is Bastille square in Paris. As anyone who's had history classes in France will know, this is Bastille as in Bastille day, 14 July 1789, when Parisians raided the Bastille prison to get weapons for their revolt against the king - the flashpoint of the French Revolution.

It's also rather well known in France that the Bastille prison was demolished shortly after, as Paris rid itself of symbols of the Old Regime. So it would make sense that this monument commemorates that, right? It's super famous, after all.

Wrong. This column commemorates the events of July 1830, some forty years later, the significance of which, I'll admit, I had forgotten.

So here's how it goes. Since 1789, France had oscillated between fragile compromises of constitutional monarchy, revolutionary fanaticism and the iron fist of Napoleon. Following the defeat of 1815, Paris entered a period of calm acceptance under King Louis XVIII, but his successor, Charles X, wanted to go back to the old ways.

So, in July 1830, Paris revolted again. Disposing of the king was a surprisingly quick affair, as in just three days, Charles X was gone. He was replaced by his cousin, Louis Philippe, who seemed more willing to placate the bourgeoisie. A new constitution was drawn up, known as the Monarchie de Juillet, or July Monarchy.

In this context, a monument to the victory of 1830 was commissioned, and this is it: the Colonne de Juillet (July Column), a 47 metre-tall column adorned with the names of the fallen revolutionaries, a mausoleum at the base and the Spirit of Freedom on the top - and is that camera surveilling the street below?

Louis Philippe had ascended to the throne after a revolution, but he would also descend from the throne after the next. In February 1848, Paris revolted for a third time, swiftly ending the July Monarchy and establishing the Second Republic... which, within just 4 years, would become the second Bonaparte dictatorship.

Palais Universitaire de Strasbourg

In 1870, a broad coalition of German nations waged a war against France. Napoleon III's Second French Empire fell swiftly, and the Second German Reich formed on the back of this victory, with a Kaiser at its head. Germany annexed Alsace and Moselle, and had particularly grand plans for Strassburg, the capital of the region. While the city centre on the island was repaired after heavy shelling, the Germans decided to develop around it. To the North, the Neustadt, "New Town", was built, with, at its core, a wide avenue with a palatial residence for the Kaiser at one end, and a University Palace at the other, the storefront of a brand new campus complex. It's still part of the university today, with classrooms and all.

Completed in 1884 in a neo-Renaissance style as a monument to Germany's newfound power, the Palace is richly decorated with statues, ranging from effigies of Germania and Argentina - no relation, the Roman settlement at Strasbourg was called Argentoratum -, and historical figures of German science and thought: below, theologist Martin Luther, mathematician Gottfried von Leibniz, astronomer Johannes Kepler and educator Johannes Sturm. Though probably not a direct response, the Eiffel Tower would provide a similar list of French greats a few years later.

France regained Alsace following World War I, and would de-germanify several buildings in the Neustadt area. The home of Germania insurances became the Gallia building, and the effigy of Germania, restored below, was removed from the University Palace. A similar process would be undertaken in 1945, after Alsace was once again be annexed by Germany in 1940 - the University Palace would need de-nazifying.

However, a few symbols remain as a reminder of the Nazi oppression. In the grand hall, called the Aula, a subtle swastika appears among the geometric patterns on the floor. It sits in a corner, as lonesome as it is loathsome. I thought I had a picture of that swastika, but looking through my folders, I don't appear to have taken photos of the interior at all. I seem to remember thinking "nah, it's weird to take pictures of Nazi swastikas". It's still weird, right?