The Disgruntled Lions of Italy

On a recent trip to Orvieto, Rome, Venice, and Bologna, I noticed that lions work hard holding up buildings, showing scrolls, and spitting water in fountains. Most of these creatures look unhappy, resentful, embarrassed, sad, anxious, or resigned to duty that they never dreamed would be theirs for eternity. Here are some photos of the kings of the jungle in their reduced circumstances. I added captions that expressed what they might be thinking. If they weren’t made of stone.

For other Italian photos, some lovely, some bizarre, please see my album on flickr: https://flic.kr/s/aHskBveufg

Oh crap, it must be four stories to the ground. That’s a long way, even for a cat with wings. (Basilica, Orvieto)

Get me down from here so I can eat some more Christians. (Rome)

It’s my job to spit water all day. Sigh. (Piazza del Popolo, Rome)

I’m a hunting trophy from the 19th century. Bite me. (Museum of Natural History, Venice)

Yeah I got a black eye. You should see the other guy. (Salute Basilica, Venice)

Oy oi oi, I’m not even Catholic. (Salute Basilica, Venice)

If these wings worked, I could fly away. (Venice)

It was worse before they put up the pigeon spikes. (Bologna)

This is not the worst job in Bologna. Really.

If I could get down from here, I’d show you who’s king of the forest.

You wonder why I look demented? I have to spout water all day. (Rome)

My brother over there is demented. I just need a cigar. (Rome)

I just think of it as puking on you. (Rome)

Where’s my incisor? (Rome)

Ack. (Rome)

No, I’m fine. Really. Yep. Really. Happy lion. More meds, please. (Rome)

Cholula, not the hot sauce, and Puebla

In Last Vegas, pathetic retirees Morgan Freeman, Michael Douglas, Kevin Kline and Robert DeNiro run off to gamble and flirt. Why are terrible movies so good on the ADO buses in Mexico? It’s not the dubbing into Spanish–terrible Mexican movies are great on the ADO, too. We took the four-plus hours and two-plus movies bus from Oaxaca to Puebla before the New Year to meet our East Tennessee friends Ann and Bill. A few days later we moved to Cholula nearby, site of a giant, mostly unexcavated pyramid with a church on top.

On New Year’s Day, dozens of people flew kites on the side of the Cholula pyramid. On top is the Iglesia de Nuestra Señora de los Remedios.

Looking up at the ornate ceiling in one of the beautiful churches in Puebla, I noticed a pink princess balloon had floated up and nestled against a princess of the church. 

Ann, Steve and Bill, in Puebla doing what they do a lot–Ann taking pictures, Steve waiting, Bill exploring.
They’re at a museum/restaurant/jazz club near the zócalo. Is it the only jazz club with a tomb and skeleton? Well, outside of New Orleans?

In a Puebla church, a statue with a distinguished face, a lace veil, beautiful light, mournful, matched what happened next–Ann had the flu, Steve caught it, then I caught it. So did 4.4 % of the population of Puebla. Steve called it PueblEbola.We are better now, thanks. 

Bill never got sick. 

Sunset over Popocatopetl, the active volcano near Cholula. There’s a little puff of sunset plume emerging from it in this picture.