If you have lived in a city for a long while, maybe all your life, you find yourself photographing its sights less and less, however lovely there may be. Do I really need another photo of the Tower of London? Of St Paul’s Cathedral? Of the river Thames?
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'Try to travel, otherwise you may become racist, and you may end up believing that your skin is the only one to be right' The above is the opening verse, in translation, of the song Viaggiate by Gio Evan, poet and songwriter. A friend posted it on Facebook and for me it sums up everything that is wonderful and important about travelling.
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Chowara is a small fishing community in Kerala. While tourism has come to the area, bringing visitors from elsewhere in India and further afield, it remains unspoiled and still focused on that traditional mainstay of its economy, the fish. Our hotel lay right next to the village, so it was easy one morning to forsake the lure of the pool and take a stroll with our cameras.
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Is there room in my blogging life for a new challenge? Possibly not, but when I came across Thursday Trios I was intrigued and decided to see what I could find in my photo archives. Today it is all about people. Finding them in groups of three isn’t always as easy as you might think. Couples are common of course, as are larger groups, but threes less so.
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Whether close to home or travelling further afield, one of my favourite subjects for photography is always the people I see. I recognise that some have concerns about candid street photography, and I understand those. But to me these photos of people living out their daily lives tell you so much about a place. On city streets or elsewhere, it’s the people that bring a place to life.
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Many people worry, unnecessarily, at the idea of visiting North Korea. Is it safe? Are the rules too strict? Will the food be tasty, and adequate? The latter question is perhaps understandable, given the well-documented periods of famine suffered in the country, but tourists, as honoured guests of the regime, have nothing to fear on that score.
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Sooner or later it seems, all paths in Marrakesh lead to the Jemaa el-Fnaa. The name (sometimes spelled Djemaa el Fna or Jamaa el Fna) means ‘Assembly of the Dead’ in Arabic; but a visit here suggests life in all its vibrancy. To call this the city’s main square doesn’t begin to do justice to it. This is a meeting place, a shopping centre, a performance space, a happening. It is surrounded by restaurants and cafés, each with a roof terrace to offer a ringside seat from where to observe all the action, but better by far to get immersed…
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Imagine an Olympic Games Opening Ceremony; full of spectacle and colour, involving tens of thousands of performers. Add a good dollop of political propaganda and unashamed messaging. Throw in hundreds of well-drilled cute children, all eager to please. Imagine too that this ceremony takes place every single night for several months. Now you have just a small idea of the scale of the North Korean phenomenon known colloquially as the Mass Games.
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Although we love to travel, we have always spent Christmas at home in England. Not for us the snowy ski slopes of the Alps, or the tropical shores of the Caribbean or Far East. Tempting as the latter sound, we save trips to warmer climes for February, when the long chilly season is really dragging. Christmas is a time for the comforts of home, and for family.
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Just to the west of Seville’s city centre, across the Guadalquivir river, lies Triana. This former working class neighbourhood was once home to the Escuela de Mareantes (School of Navigation) which instructed many of the famous sailors of the 15th and 16th centuries. Both Columbus and Magellan studied there before their expeditions in search of new worlds. It is famous too for its tradition of ceramic tile work and its unique style of flamenco.
