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Vinos, Caminos & Pintxos: The Small Town Of Haro
Much of the drive from Zaragoza is through nondescript territory, interior Spain at its flattest and most arid with the occasional industrial complex or giant warehouse thrown in for good measure. Then with almost comical precision the vineyards begin at the very moment we pass the “La Rioja” provincial sign and pretty soon we are looking out at picturesque hilltop villages crowned by a soaring church spire and/or the turrets of a castle. This is exactly the scenery we have come here to explore. Ignoring the temptation to dive into other villages too soon, we head straight to our next destination of Haro, arriving too early to check in to…
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A-Z In A Day: From Andorra to Zaragoza
There’s a proper mountain air feel to our last morning in Andorra La Vella, bright blue skies but crisp air, locals hunched in jackets and jeans as they make their way through town. From the window at breakfast it has the look of a Spring morning in the Alps and it’s odd to think that at the other end of our relatively short journey today temperature may be well into the 30s. It’s a couple of hours on the bus from Andorra to Lleida followed by an extraordinarily comfortable, and fast, train ride to Zaragoza. Sporting our backpacks and wearing our heavy hiking shoes, we suppose the taxi driver’s question…
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Days In A Small Country: Exploring Andorra
Andorra is the world’s 16th smallest country by area, and the 11th smallest by population, with only just over 75,000 residents in the whole principality. Such is the mountainous terrain of its 180 square miles that while only 1.7% of its surface is arable, there are 350 kilometres worth of ski runs. No prizes for guessing what is the biggest contributor to Andorra’s GDP then. One of the reasons we were looking forward to Andorra is that we don’t know much about it. OK, so we know that it’s one of Europe’s smallest countries, that it’s a mountain country high up in the Pyrenees with plenty of winter ski resorts,…
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Evoking Memories On The Spanish Costa
I open my eyes to find the first light of day creeping into the room; Michaela is still soundly asleep by my side. I turn to look out at the new day. Pale pastel shades of sunrise decorate the horizon with colours too delicate for the camera but pleasing on the eye. The rippled surface of the sea rolls gently towards me, kissing the shore below with a gentle, rhythmic swoosh which is more like a layer of peace than a layer of sound. Laying in bed listening to the waves. Surely one of life’s great pleasures. We couldn’t control our broad smiles as we got off the train and…
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Barcelona Revisited
Would it be appropriate to call it culture shock, leaving behind the vineyards, villages and mountains and being transported in a comparative instant to the international tourist maelstrom which is Barcelona’s La Rambla? Well it’s certainly a significant change of scene. The place is absolutely alive with people and activity in exactly the way we remember it, and Barcelona feels as joyous and energetic as ever. It’s a fairly long time now since either of us have been to Barcelona, and we haven’t previously been here together, so this is a reacquaintance with different memories for each of us. Some things have changed down La Rambla since our last visits:…
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A Brief Stay In Paris: The Journey Begins
If like me you’re a lover of train travel, a trip on Eurostar always feels special. Maybe it’s something to do with us Brits being islanders, but the very thought of boarding a train in one country and leaving it in another is one which is full of excitement and possibly even romance. However we’re just a little bit gutted to find we’ve been allocated the only seats in the carriage which aren’t next to a window – somewhat bizarrely, this is the THIRD successive Eurostar trip where this has happened. Given that there’s 90-odd seats in a carriage we are either seriously unlucky or we’re missing the clues when…
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Michaela’s Favourite Photographs #14. Sometimes The Simple Things
Versailles, France, 2015. And here we end this short series of some of Michaela’s favourite photographs, with a shot of beautiful and stunning simplicity. Leaving the glorious palace to explore the sumptuous gardens, the rain started to fall with extraordinarily bad timing, just as we stepped away from the sanctuary of the grand building. And yet the rain brought a gift: clear, dainty raindrops clinging to leaves and flower heads throughout the gardens, nowhere more perfect than on this delicious pink rose.
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Michaela’s Favourite Photographs #13. When We Are The Mystery
Sunderbans, Bengal, India, 2017. Way beyond the end of the road network, far beyond the concept of cars, out into the world’s biggest mangrove swamp where our temporary home was to be a mud hut amongst the wild and mysterious terrain. The only means of transport was small, cramped, low slung boats across the water. Here, in these far off corners, the real mystery was us: what were these two pale skinned people doing right out here where white man is a rarity? As you can see from the faces of our fellow passengers, we were a source of friendly amusement. Elsewhere around the villages, tea sellers like this lady…
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Michaela’s Favourite Photographs #12: Village Party
A mountain village north of Foça, Turkey, 2012. It might have been a funeral, so we held back, not wishing to intrude on whatever this private village gathering was. But they called us in, beckoned us to join the strange procession in which every member of the village was playing their part. Invited to dance to the music, cans of beer thrust into our hands, the smiles of these mountain dwellers told us we were going to be part of the celebration. The event was in honour of Mohammad, a young boy passing from youth to adulthood: in essence, a party to celebrate his circumcision.
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Michaela’s Favourite Photographs #10: Quiet Streets
Marrakech, Morocco, 2015 and Bratislava, Slovakia, 2014. Sometimes in the busiest and most manic of cities, it’s possible to turn a corner and suddenly find yourself in a little enclave of peace. It’s hard to accentuate this in a photograph – unless you’re lucky enough for one single person to wander into the quiet alley at just the right moment. That single figure somehow conveys peace more eloquently than a wholly empty street can….
