Tag: The Blue Mountains

The Past Tense Of Youth: Another life in a painting

On By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Now and then, Romantic interludes, stories of mystery and romance

idyll LeightonThe Hydro Majestic had been a haven for our love. A palace in the wilderness where we could explore the wonders of nature much like he had done with Rana in the blue splendour of  the Caucasus. It had been no coincidence that we two thirty years into the future would find ourselves leading parallel lives.  Had he known of this other life when fate brought us together on that divine evening whilst dining on the terrace?  There he was with his peers.  Some very dignified looking gentlemen somewhat older than he.  Yet he had seemed happy in their company. They conversed with animated expressions over their after dinner  wine and appeared to be going over some plans drawn up on paper.  Was he some sort of spy?  He was no Englishman of that I was sure and he certainly wasn’t from Australia. I couldn’t help but stare as I found myself drawn into the vacuous social banter of other hotel guests who had joined my parents and me for supper.  The mysterious young man  at the next table had intrigued me.  There was an air of mystery about him yet somehow I knew him.  Suddenly he had caught my gaze and he smiled across at me with a smile so dazzling that it almost blinded me.  One of the older men looked across at me and came over to our table and introduced himself .

Professor Humphries , it turned out was both an art curator and a professor of architecture and design.  He had come with his colleagues via Turkey where they had been investigating the possibilities of  consulting on the design of a new museum of art and sculpture for Istanbul. They had brought with them a young Turkish architectural student, whose parents  the professor had stayed with while lecturing on modernism at Istanbul university. It turned out that the parents had  asked the professor to take their son, who showed great promise and had just won an award for academic excellence, under his tutelage on his next project which was to be in Australia. The professor had been commissioned by Mark Foy, the owner of ‘The Hydro Majestic’, to consult on the rebuilding of the ‘Belgravia’ wing which had burnt down in 1922.  The work had stalled and some important finishing touches needed to be added.  The young Turk with whom I was enamoured had been chosen from hundreds of others around Europe, due to his award winning designs, to work on the wing supervised by the experts.  There was also a painting that the professor wished to buy from Mr Foy which was in the hotels picture gallery known as ‘ The Long Hall’.  My parents were fascinated by the professor but I heard only the name of the young Turk ‘Gurel’ repeating over and over in my head.  All the while the professor was speaking he and I had remained fixed in each other’s gaze.  After what had seemed an eternity he rose from his seat and came over to our table.  Professor Humphries introduced him and I was at once transported into a world of exotic splendours.

” I am very pleased to meet you” he said in a cheery voice quite devoid of any accent. ” Just call me Gerald if you find my name difficult.  It’s a very English name and probably much easier for you to remember”.

” Alright if you prefer but I assure you my memory for names that may sound a little foreign is completely in tact”

That he spoke English perfectly did not deter me one bit from my creative visualisations.  It turned out that he was half English as his father, also an architect,  had met and married his mother whilst on a field trip to Istanbul.  He had returned to London only briefly with his lovely Turkish bride but  soon tired of the normalities of English life and made the decision to live permanently in the country that had given him the great love of his life.  Not long after setting up their home in this exotic land their son was born.

After that first evening wondering through the lush green valley and traversing crooked mountain paths not too far from the hotel we realised that for some reason the universe had meant for us to be together.  We laughed and whispered of secret longings. I was of his world and he was of mine. There would be no need for explanations and no need to rush things.

The next morning at breakfast had not been stilted by the kind of long awkward silence young lovers feel when they don’t know if things will progress any further but was filled with the joy of true belonging. Afterwards we had visited ‘The Long Hall’ with the professor to view the painting  he wished to purchase for his museum in Istanbul.  And there it was. A masterpiece by English artist Frederick Leighton.  A young man who looked remarkably like Gurel and I like his muse.  The resemblance was unmistakable.  There we were the two of us very much in love concentrating on  what seemed to be an architects drawing.   No wonder we had felt as one from the moment our eyes met.  We had been so throughout the ages and it would not be long before I would come to understand the significance of our union.

© Renee Dallow ( Hybiscus Bloom ) 22/11/2014 

The Past Tense Of Youth: Love’s destiny

On By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Changing the world, Now and then, stories of mystery and romance

weddingThat first evening dancing with Gurel under the stars at the beautiful Hydro Majestic in Australia’s Blue Mountains had been the most magical evening of my life but it had ended all too soon.  The valley under the gaze of the moon had cast a spell on us both.  I longed to repeat the wonder of it all again and again.  He had kissed me on the hand after chaperoning me to the door of my room and I had lain awake all night dreaming of fairytale romances.  The Hydro was a perfect example of the kind of architectural splendour popular with royalty. Set high on a cliff top overlooking the Megalong valley the hotel reminded me of  the kind of palace a princess would inhabit.  That princess was myself and Gurel my handsome prince. 

We dined each night on that same terrace over looking  the old staircase leading down to our beautiful green valley floating in the gentle mists.  After dinner we would go for long walks under the stars with the sounds of the Australian bush all around us.  We talked of dreams for the future as we gazed out into the distant mountain ranges surrounding us.  He of architectural wonders of the world and I of great historical revolutions.

Together we  would change the world.  We were past and present searching for new tomorrows. The future was ours  and our love would guide the way.  There were lavish parties  in the grand dining hall followed with dancing in the ballroom.  As Gurel and I danced around the room so in tune with ourselves that we barely noticed what music was playing I imagined myself in a land of make believe.  It was all so exciting, so glamorous, so perfect that I could hardly breathe for fear it would all disappear and I would wake to find that none of it had ever really happened.

My parents had kept a watchful eye on us and were no doubt more than a little concerned at our growing  obsession with each other.  Over Gurel’s shoulder on the dance floor I watched  them so at ease in each other’s company and felt so honoured to be in their presence.  They had loved this holiday almost as much as I and were reluctant to leave but father had  embassy committments and of course mother and I would have to leave with him.

Once home at Greylin I found myself pining  for the man I loved.  Just as I had watched my mother do so often. I wondered through the gardens alone day after day lost in my world of memories.  Oh there were invitations to social gatherings and balls with friends trying to soothe my broken heart by lining up handsome bachelors for me to choose from but it was of no use.  

Then the day came exactly one month later as I was preparing to go into the village.  I heard a knock at the front door and a voice on the other side of it calling my name.  Barely able to contain myself I ran so fast down the stairs that I tripped and fell over the banister. The maid opened the door and there he was standing there with sunbeams highlighting his dark, wavy hair.  I flew into his arms and at that moment was sublimely at peace with the whole universe for he was my truth, my essence, my everything.

Only two weeks later we would be married  in the grounds of Greylin castle and  I would be whisked off to Istanbul for a honeymoon.  Yet another far off land filled with promises of  new adventures, new discoveries, new beginnings.  Together we were destined for something greater than anything that had come before.  Something we both knew existed but was not yet within reach ….. something ….  

 

 © Renee Dallow ( Hybiscus Bloom ) 9/10/2013