Continuing on the juxtaposition theme from my last post, here we have the “BIGGEST MUSIC CLUB IN CENTRAL EUROPE” jammed into a tiny corner between buildings along Prague’s Vltava River.
Tag: club
Sailboats 3-2-1
After a week doing science on a hilltop, I would sometimes sneak out of work just a minute early* and head across the Bay to Tiburon to watch the Corinthian Yacht Club’s Friday night sailboat racing. The lack of spinnakers implies to me that it’s a pretty friendly race, but it’s nonetheless a great way to end the workweek.
*Though early by my standards is “regular” to most folks, I suspect.
Red Spinnaker
Racing sailboats on San Francisco Bay is the sort of upper-class pastime that seems perfectly suited for a flawless blue evening in late spring. Placid water meets busy city meets bright sails.
Corinthian Yacht Club
This seems like the time to post images of moored sailboats. Sunset at the Corinthian Yacht Club means, near the solstice, that the sailors are quieting down for the night.
Yacht Race
As promised, images from the Corinthian Yacht Club’s Friday Night Race. I’m told that the boat in the lead is particularly valuable enough that it should be in the lead.
The light changed over the course of the evening, lending the setting a different feel that matched the coastline west of the center of San Francisco.
Sleeping Off-Shore
During the summer months, Tiburon’s Coninthian Yacht Clubs hosts the Friday Night Race Series. Though images from last week’s race are coming soon, I was most struck by this scene of a sailor on a trimaran watching the delicate blue-hour colors above San Francisco.
Further Motorcycle Imaginings
San Francisco street scenes featuring motorcycles parked provocatively outside bars and cafés have become a recent focus of mine. Blues and reds in bright Sunday sunshine are enticing.
The Club
The Club has two jobs: one part family-friendly restaurant for the community, and one part standard bar. I’m just sad that they stopped having Newcastle on tap.
New England Summer
The passage of time and the seasons is a common theme on Decaseconds. As the Northeast struggles out of winter and into spring, I wanted to spotlight some fundamentally “summer in New England”-ish images.
Boston in early summer hasn’t yet become miserable and sweaty yet, and is instead a sea of crisp flags and bright flowers and blue skies. At Longwood Cricket Club, the New England of the twentieth century is preserved.
Inside that club, on the porch above the immaculate grass tennis courts, is the perfect place for a frosty chocolate milkshake and a buttery roll filled with lobster meat. New England prep at its finest.
And just outside Boston is Humarock, this charming seaside community of even more flags and sea grasses and ocean-smoothed rocks. The American flag has never looked so good.
Florida Dawns Forever
Today is New Year’s Eve: out with the old, in with the new, etc. Time doesn’t seem to pass in Florida, however—it’s a place that’s always at the dawn of history, the muggy primordial swamp, with the monolith and the howling primates just outside the frame.
Cabin Complex
At the core of the enormous lecture halls and lab spaces that dominate UC Berkeley’s campus, buildings like the Faculty Club (on the left) and Senior Hall (on the right) perch on the edge of Strawberry Creek. The log cabin was built in 1906, and is home of the Order of the Golden Bear. It’s also the only privately-owned and -maintained building on the campus, and its darkened windows are enigmatic when evening creeps around the university.
The Grass Courts
The Longwood Cricket Club of Boston, MA no longer plays cricket. In fact, its members haven’t really played cricket for more than 100 years. What they do play is tennis, and they have acres of gorgeous grass courts on which to do so. On this particular day, as members relaxed on the front porch, the grass courts were empty. A massive storm the night before (that I also had a chance to photograph) meant that the courts were too wet. The view was perhaps all the more surreal for the juxtaposition of crowded porch and empty courts.
Decaseconds 