The final resting places of Johann Strauss I (dad), Johann Strauss II (son), and Josef Strauss (other son). All three were musicians and composers.
Johan I – dad
Johann II – he wrote what is probably the most famous waltz in the world, The Blue Danube
While walking in the forest in Ojcow I came across this beautiful grave. I don’t know anything about it, but I can’t imagine that a grave made entirely of plants would last for very long in the humidity of the forest. It is a lovely and peaceful spot for a little quite contemplation.
I am fascinated with graveyards, and I love walking through them. They have a sense of quite and calmness. They are places where you can pause and remember that whatever your worries, they are probably not that important when put into perspective.
So today when I drove past the Muizenberg Cemetery on a misty morning, I had to stop for a few minutes to walk through the graveyard and look at the graves. Interesting that even though once you are going there is no coming back, there is still clearly a distinction between the expensive and inexpensive graves.
His grave is in the Pere Lachaise Cemetery, the largest and oldest cemetery in Paris. He shares the ground with several illustrious people, including Oscar Wilde and Edith Piaf. The crypts (many of them shared by families) almost looked like small houses, rather that a resting place for the dead. While many were very old, several were from just a few years ago. The graveyard is full of labyrinthine paths, criss-crossing on their meandering routes. I had a distinct Ann-Rice feeling in the graveyard.
What I also found interesting is that there were a large variety of graves from different Churches, including Christian, Jewish and a few Chinese graves.
It was quite a walk to find Jim Morrison’s grave, especially because I got so lost that I had to stop and buy a map. So when I eventually found it, I didn’t just pause for to contemplate, I also had to pause for breath. I have never seen a pop star’s grave before, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. It looked exactly like all the other graves, except that it was covered with bunches of fresh flowers – suggestive of a regular stream of visitors. I was surprised to be the only person there. I also expected graffiti, but there was none.
My reflective moment was shattered when a group of tourists arrived (“there he is!”), and went to gawk and slobber at his grave (Ok so I was also a tourist, but you can at least show some sense of decorum in a graveyard). So I decided that it was time to say goodbye and move on.