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2009-05-04T23:13:00.001-07:00

Over the past couple of months I've noticed Chinua Achebe's novel Things Fall Apart cropping up every time I go into a bookstore. Achebe is a Nigerian novelist and poet who wrote Things Fall Apart back in 1958. It is now considered to be just about the most widely read and popular book in African literature - certainly over the last half century.

The plot weaves together the dual stories of one man's tragic fall from power, grace and, eventually, life with the greater story of the collapse of the tribal culture and tradition under the weight of aggressive, European influence and law brought by missionaries to Nigeria.

Okonkwo is a man haunted by the memory of his father, a man considered a failure in the male dominated culture of the Ibo people in Umuofia, a clan of villages in Nigeria. Okonkwo's father didn't work, had no wealth and lived his life playing the flute and sponging off others. He died alone in the forest. Okonkwo fears, more than anything else, being compared in any way to his father. In his quest he shows great strength in battle and in wrestling and he rules his family and wives as he believes a patriarch should - without showing love or affection.

My dear friend Yomi A. Michaels played the role of Okonkwo in a touring version of the stage adaptation of Things Fall Apart by Biyi Bandele. He was fortunate enough to travel to the land of his parents, Nigeria, to perform in Lagos. His parents were both Yoruba which meant that he had his own internal conflicts in portraying an Ibo man. Yomi also had the honour of meeting Achebe himself in Nigeria - a meeting that deeply moved him. As Yomi wrote on the BBC World Services "My Century" in 1999,

"Nigerians view Chinua Achebe with immense pride - particularly the Ibo people, of course, but Nigeria as a whole feels great pride that he was born a Nigerian."

After Things Fall Apart, Yomi went on to play the role of King Baabu written by another Nigerian literary great Wole Soyinka. Soyinka was born into a Yoruba family in 1934 and studied in Nigeria and then the University of Leeds, England, Yomi's home town. Soyinka won the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1986, the first African to be awarded the prize. Yomi always felt a strong connection to Soyinka and referred to him, affectionately, as 'the Prof'.

Yomi A. Michaels, in red, takes the curtain as King Baabu in Lesotho. (pic. M.Kheleli)

Yomi died, suddenly, in March of 2006, in London, at the age of 41. The last time I saw him was in London in February of 2006. Since I'd moved to Paris we had seen less of each other but we stayed in touch and he'd been out to visit. We always connected when I returned to London on business. That final time we celebrated my upcoming move to California. We plotted cross country road trips. We talked about meeting in New York and going to see his beloved Yankees play at Yankee Stadium. We walked through Soho - our area - on the way back to my hotel. We stopped outside of the Apple store on Regent Street and he wanted to take a picture of me to commemorate my new job and the move to Apple headquarters.

It's funny how extraordinary things happen on very ordinary days. I was home one day when I took a call from someone I'd only spoken to a couple of times before. She told me that Yomi was dead. I traveled back to England to attend the funeral and give a eulogy. His family asked me if I could pull anything of interest - writings, pictures and such - from his laptop and digital camera. The very last picture on his digital camera was the one he'd took of me outside the Apple Store. I felt like I could see his ghost in the reflected flash from his camera.

So, tonight, I was in a bookstore and saw, again, a copy of Things Fall Apart. I picked it up and looked at it and thought of my friend. I replaced it on the shelf and continued looking. The next book I picked up was 'Off Mike' by Michael Krasny, the host of KQED's Forum and someone I enjoy listening to on NPR. The book fell open in my hands at page 170. Which just happened to be the page where Krasny talks of interviewing Wole Soyinka, the author of King Baabu and the man my friend always referred to as 'the Prof'.

I bought both books.

Barren Month

2009-05-01T12:59:00.001-07:00

I managed to go all the way through April without posting. Nothing. Not one single post. I guess I felt disinclined for some reason. It's not like nothing happened. I ended March and slipped gracefully into April while at the Palm Springs Photo Festival, the brainchild of one Mr Jeff Dunas. The Festival celebrates the spirit of fine art photography, mostly, with a little photojournalism thrown in too. It's a nice way to welcome the spring with temperatures in Palm Springs being up in the 80's by this time of the year.

Photographer, photography historian and founder of the Palm Springs Photo Festival, Jeff Dunas, at the Korakia Pensione. April 2009.

A tree silhouette reflection in the pool

Me shooting me in the gloriously orange bathrooms of the Annenberg Theater, Palm Springs, CA

I returned from the Festival with an extra creative spring in my step and set about riding my bike, finally. I bought a couple of pairs of shorts. I bought a helmet. And I started riding. I started slow, riding out for the first time on April 5th. I covered five and a half miles at a staggeringly slow 12.7mph average (back in the day I was covering a 10 mile time trial in about 22 mins, averaging about 27mph). This first time out I barely made it through the 5 miles.

I went flying with a friend of mine in Monterey a couple of times... First time out, flying down the coast over Bixby Bridge, Point Sur lighthouse and Big Sur. Second time out we crossed Monterey Bay, Santa Cruz and up to Pescadero before being turned back by the enormous fog bank over the coast heading north towards Half Moon Bay and San Francisco.

Cessna 172, Monterey Airport, CA

I shot my first Major League Soccer game (San Jose v LA Galaxy, 1-1, Oakland Coliseum).

I had a great time driving around San Francisco with an awesome photographer called Jeremy Cowart who just happened to be passing through on the Britney Spears 'Circus' tour.

By the end of the month I'd ridden over a hundred miles - actually 117 and my final ride of the month was a 'blistering' 10 mile ride covered in 36mins at an average speed of 16.5mph. Not a bad progression in a month. The riding feels good, the bike feels good and my body has a righteous ache.

So, as I said, I've done a bunch of things, I've been out and about. I've ridden like a crazy beast and watched many games in the first round of the Stanley Cup Playoffs. I also started teaching a small photo class at work.

But I just didn't feel like writing about it...

For those about to board...

2009-03-22T21:43:00.001-07:00

... we salute you. This entry is dedicated to all of the colleagues with whom I have sat and discussed one of the traveler's perennial problems: hotels. Before I begin I must, if I may, place one disclaimer. For all of my friends who bunk down in cockroach infested bunks in war zones and under mosquito nets in jungles all over the world, this entry is not for you. It's for the pasty, pampered, powdered-ass corporate business travelers. Like me.

First of all, the inspiration for this post. I'm on the road. Right now I'm in St. Petersburg, Florida and I'm in a regular business hotel. Last week I was in New York City staying in an up market 'boutique' style hotel. I noticed, when I arrived at this hotel that I was almost embarrassingly happy to be here. This post is an attempt to explain that odd fact and, finally, to put into words all of those conversations I've had with fellow road warriors about designing the perfect business hotel. This one is for you, F-Troop.

First of all, this is a nice idea but not wholly necessary. It's a power socket in the bedside lamp. So that if you want to work in bed and plug in your laptop you don't have to yank the bed away from the wall and thrust your hand down into places that you really don't want to think about for too long. Just to get some juice.

It used to be, just a few short years ago, that the amount of cables and power supplies I carried was nothing short of staggering. I staggered through airports and staggered into hotels carrying all this stuff. These days most of my stuff is 'bus-powered', that is to say, it takes it's power from being plugged into my laptop. Here are three Firewire 400 hard drives and one Firewire 800 hard drive plugged in. The Lexar card reader is also Firewire 800 and plugs straight into the back of the G-Tech drive. All neat so far.

So with that being said the shortage of power sockets in hotel rooms is rarely an issue these days although this idea is neat. The two power sockets I do need (laptop and camera battery charger) are both built into the lamp stand. Again, no fiddling on the floor under the desk just begging for the cleaner to come in, see you and lead to you being cited as the reason for her quitting the profession. Notice, also, the ethernet. Ah yes, the internets. A critical part of everyones life these days. Here's a tip if you're building a hotel; make it easy, make it everywhere and make it free. Charging me 20 bucks for 24 hours of internet is like charging me for the water in the taps. I like having the option of a wire, it allows me to create my own wireless network in the room if the wireless signal ain't up to much.

So here it is all plugged in.

And yes, even this little doodad is synced and charged directly so I only need the USB cable and no charger.

So what else? Well the rest is rather basic but amazingly arsed up by a great deal of hotels. Give me a comfortable clean bed with sheets that feel like they might have been made sometime within the years I've been alive on this planet. Pillows that feel like they are stuffed with the packing material you can eat don't work either. And don't put 58 other assorted items on the bed. I can't tell you how many times I've had to spend 10 minutes placing bolsters and fluffy embroidered carefully on to the floor just so that I can get into bed. Actually they usually get flung across the room in a bizarre 'padded cell' parody of a Rolling Stones style hotel room trashing. I also don't want those odd Scandinavian style make-it-yourself beds. One last thing; no recognisable bodily fluid stains. Please. For the love all that is good, I don't want to see that.

Hot water. It seems so basic. It is. It's one of the three essentials I'm paying you for... bed, hot water and a crapper. It's what I need.

Shower pressure. Seriously, the hotel room I stayed in last week was right beneath the water tower on the roof and had zero water pressure. It had a funky trendy 'rainhead' which kinda drizzled on me which was fine for an overall misting but I really need some kinda hot high pressure hose for a decent scrub down. They also had one of the hand held shower heads that you pull off the wall to wash those, er, tricky to reach areas. If you turned it upside down the water simply stopped. What do you want me to do with that? Use it as a loofah?

Give me some space around the sink. I don't have much but I'd like to be able to put it down without having to balance things.

These are the basics. Now let's have a gander at some really nice things to have that really aren't difficult. A decent iron and ironing board. The key word is decent. I don't need to brand a sheep, I need to occasionally press a shirt. And spend the extra two bucks fifty to buy the irons that you can put water in...

A coffee machine. Anyone that knows me knows that I really don't like to be up in the mornings. I certainly don't want to have to talk to someone. Having to talk to someone before I've had coffee is almost painful. Having to make my first conversation be my ordering of coffee is going to make the rest of the day just seem Sisyphean. So put a small coffee machine in the room. I'm not asking for beans that have passed through a small animal and been sifted from their stools. Farmer brothers will do at a pinch. And, yes, I know that Farmer Brothers tastes like it's been passed by someone but you catch my drift.

A fridge. I know you might put your fridge in there. It's full of tempting goodies that seem value for money when it's 2am and you really feel like a bottle of water. But I'm really not going to respect myself in the morning when I've been taken advantage of by paying 10 bucks for a bottle. For those of you out there that make signs saying, 'please don't put your own stuff in the fridge', what's wrong with you? What possible damage can happen? Give me a fridge. If I'm staying somewhere for a few nights I'm going to want some basics from the store. I need somewhere to put them. I'm not going to put them in a bag of ice and hang 'em out of the window. We've moved on since then.

Working air conditioning. My least green requirement but when I'm on the road and working anywhere up to eighteen hours a day someone had better let me sleep the remaining 6 or else I'm going to get cranky. Can you tell? A hot room is my fastest way to hotel room misery.

That's about it really. Some other things which are nice are things like an in-house guest laundry room. Awesome. Serves two functions; gets your clothes clean without needing a mortgage AND makes you realise that you aren't that hot shit and that you do put your pants on one leg at a time like anyone else. Oh and this bit is green... have you seen the elaborate packing from the hotel dry cleaning service? Silly and unnecessary.

Inexpensive and easy valet parking is nice too. The hotel in NY last week charged 50/day which, actually, is not bad for Manhattan but at the very least give me in and out privileges. They wanted to charge me 50 each time I brought it out. Imagine that. Two trips out and you're on for 150 for that day's parking. Obscene. Breakfast too, make it nice, easy and quick. I frequently skip the buffet in hotels that charge 22 bucks for it. Because even a fat biffa like me can't do 22 dollars worth of damage to a breakfast buffet.

A couple of other niceties. Lay on the odd decent sunset, it's always appreciated by the weary traveler.

And when I shut the curtains make it look like this.

To this end, the Courtyard Marriott is pretty much the perfect hotel. All of the above pictures were taken there. Decent room rate. Valet is thruppence ha'penny with in and outs, internet is free and the breakfast is 9.50 all you can eat. And, yes, I can do that much damage to a breakfast buffet.

Bike In Time

2009-03-02T21:41:00.001-08:00

There's a photo, in my parents photo album, of a smiling, no-spectacles me. I must be around 6 or 7, maybe 8 or 9 and I'm in the back garden at the house I grew up in in Nottingham, England. I'm crouched down at the top of the steps and I have my arms around Lucky, our much beloved one-eyed dog. It's obviously summer (wasn't it always summer?) as I'm wearing a short-sleeved shirt and shorts. In the background the lawn is dry and brown as I remember it and on that lawn, out of focus, is a bicycle lying on it's side where I'd clearly left it in a hurry to hug the dog.

Lucky and me, circa 1975. Scan courtesy of my dad. Thanks dad.

That bike was the first bike I really remember having. It was an old black-painted Phillips steel framed bike with 3-speed Sturmey Archer gears. It weighed probably more than I did. If I remember rightly it was also the bike I brought down on my head, in the shed, one fateful day around 1970. I split my head open and needed hospital treatment to stitch it all back together again. When I was tall enough to ride it, I loved that bike. It was old, it was heavy, it had straight 'bars and only three gears but I rode it constantly. In the summers my brother and I would 'speedway' it around the back garden. No wonder the grass was all brown.

Not long after that my older brother got his first 'real' bike; a gleaming blue Carlton Continental 10-Speed - old school 10, as in 5 at the back, 2 in front. It was a work of art. I have no idea how much it cost or how we could afford it but it was a beauty. My brother was in 'high school' at the time so I think he was riding to school and back every day. I remember that it was built in Worksop, just up the road from Nottingham.

When I went to the 'big school' I remember that the 'hot' bike at that time was the Raleigh Europa, next down was the Arena, which looked a little like my brother's Carlton. I owned an Arena for a while, bought second hand. I seem to remember that I bought a no name bike off some boy at school. A few months after I got it it was stolen from the side of the house. I'm pretty sure it was a liquid commodity.

I remember that, eventually, I got a really nice Peugeot road bike. I tricked it out a bit and it was my first 'serious' bike. I rode that bike thousands and thousands of miles and became terrifically interested in my own cycling and with the pro cycling scene.

'Big' Miguel Indurain taking his lap of honor at the Tour de France, Paris, 1991(or2)

One day, in a spectacular bit of smartassness, I fell off the bike. I came home after a long Saturday ride of, in those days, about 80 miles. I changed into some regular shorts and a sweatshirt and went for a cool down ride. I rode up our insane hill and, cresting the hill, my cap flew off. I jammed on the brakes, turned on a dime, scooted back, unclipped my foot from the clipless pedals, stuck my foot into my hat as I rode past and kicked it up into the air. I caught the hat, plunked it on top of my head, clipped back in, hammered the brakes and turned on a dime again. Except this time I missed it and went crashing to the ground. Blood came trickling down my leg from a wound on the front of my knee. I rode off to kinda loosen it up and ride off the pain. But the blood wouldn't stop running out. So I rode down to the hospital where some of my friends were student nurses and stayed in the nurses quarters. My friend Tammy patched me up and we sat and chatted for a while over a cup of tea. When I came out of her room my bike was gone.

Once I got home I did the math and figured out that I was earning enough money and riding enough miles to warrant doing the riding thing properly. I took the plunge and bought my first and, so far, only 'expensive' bike. It was hand made by Dave Marsh of Rotherham out of Reynolds 753 tubing. It had Campagnolo kit throughout and I had him put on a special edition Rolls saddle on to match the red/white paint job. A bang up beautiful job.

I had to wait a couple of weeks for the bike to get made and then I arranged, with Dave, to meet him at the local track night to take delivery of the bike. I'll never forget that Wednesday night. He took the bike out of the back of his car, fitted the bars and the saddle and then fitted me up for it. Then I clipped in and rode away down the track for a couple of hundred yards. I'll never forget the sound the hand made wheels made as the spokes settled into place. It was the single most wonderful biking moment I'd had up to that point.

Lance, Champs Elysées, Tour de France, 2003.

From that point on I rode like an insane crazy beast, eventually clocking up regular 400 mile weeks - I'd ride a century on a Saturday, then another on the Sunday, then a 60, then an 80 and a couple of 30's. I was probably in the best shape of my life. In one season my I broke all of my skating personal bests and by a considerable margin. This period lasted until I was 24. In the first skating meet of the new season, in Peterborough, I fell in a 500m race. I slid, ankle first into the barrier matting and heard something let go. I'd broken my ankle. By the time I was able to skate again it was the end of the season. I was running out of money and sold my bike to buy a less expensive Trek Aluminum bike - one that I never liked, it was early days for aluminum frames and I just didn't get on with it. At about the same time I lost my job and had to move to a different city. They had no skating team and whilst I rode a bit on the Trek I never really got back into it. I still followed pro riding with a passion. That interest followed me in my move to London and then to Paris where I was lucky enough to see several Tours and then photograph a couple of World Cup Cycle races. But I didn't ride any more.

Lance, Prolog, Tour de France, 2004.

So lets fast forward to now and its eighteen years since I gave up 'real' cycling. I'm 42 and I weigh 240. It's time to start again. I've been trying to figure out what bike to get - and the technology has moved on considerably. I decided that I wanted a straightforward, simple bike. One that I'll ride. One that doesn't need endless maintenance. I'm going to ride in my garage on a trainer for a few weeks while I make myself physically less embarrassing. After that I hope to start riding to work and back a few days a week. If I can do that for a year and I'm STILL riding, well, then I'll think about dumping down some dough for a serious road bike again.

So what did I plump for? I plumped for a Raleigh Rush Hour. It's a flip-flop i.e. the rear hub has a fixed sprocket one side and a freewheel the other. I'm going to ride the freewheel for a while to build up some baseline fitness, then alternate into the fixie side to regain some level of 'souplesse' in my legs and my pedaling action. Once I'm out on the roads I have very flat terrain nearby so I'll make the most of the simplicity of the bike on rides to work and occasional shots to the store etc.

Of course as soon as you mention your intentions about anything all of the experts crawl out of the woodwork to tell you where you are going wrong - whether you want to know or not. They'll tell you that don't want to get that, you ought to get this. They'll tell you their riding credentials and how many bikes they've had and how many years they've been riding. Sometimes people even make assumptions based on their own life stories instead of yours. And it's all great. I mean, I appreciate immensely some of the help I've had in the past week or so and I appreciate people giving their time. I know I could have gone for a road bike... or a commuter... or an urban. I could go with a hip brand like Surly or Swobo. I could go for a hip mainstream brand like Kona or Specialized. But I'm going for the Rush Hour by Raleigh. Why?

Back in the late 1800's a chap called Frank Bowden bought a bike by Messrs. Woodhead, Angois and Ellis. They made about three bikes a week in their little workshop. Bowden bought the business and three years later, with production increasing, he moved the company to a new building. He also renamed the company Raleigh to commemorate it's start on Raleigh Street in the city of Nottingham, my home town. The business became enormous and they became one of the most famous bike makers in the world. In the 1950's Tube Investments created the British Bicycle Company by merging a bunch of companies. They then acquired Raleigh. Then Carlton cycles. They also owned Phillips, remember them from the beginning of this story? By the time the 1960's came around TI also owned Brooks (saddles), Sturmey-Archer (gears) and Reynolds (makers of the tubing used to make bikes). In Nottingham the Raleigh factory was a landmark - people will still call the junction 'Raleigh Island' even thought the factory was knocked down years ago.

Todays Raleigh bears only the name in common with the Raleigh of old but in it's symbolism lies my home town's history and the history of me on a bike. Along that timeline lies so many memories and so many miles. In the letters of the name lie the face-pressed-against-the-bike-store-window aspirations of the boy and the pride of the Raleigh riding teenager. So what better way to restart my love affair with bikes than to ride a simple steel-framed black-painted bike with the Raleigh logo? Because, you see, there is more to riding than what is 'right'. There is more to cycling than having the right kit or the right brand. Much more than fitting in with those riders who ride road, or those who courier or those who scream down mountains on bike that look like they might have a motor attached. It's can be much more than a lifestyle choice. In fact, sometimes, it's not a choice you make but a choice that makes itself.

Sometimes you need to light the right fires in your soul to reconnect with something that sits deep inside of you and your history. Sometimes you know, that if that spark takes, then the fire will burn bright and it will burn strong. I'm hoping that my single-speed Raleigh will do exactly that. I can't wait to ride it.

Raleigh Rush Hour 09, picture courtesy of Raleigh USA.

The Changes In Life

2009-02-26T10:20:00.001-08:00

Thinking in 'the moment' and 'living in the present' are things we value highly, phrases brought down from on high by buddhist teachings and espoused by people who teach everything from business studies to wedding photography workshops. I'm currently reading a book all about the concept of time and our relationship to it. It's a fascinating and absorbing read.

It leads me to a place that I've often found myself. I find it very hard to connect the me that I am today with the me that I was before. So the me that lives in California seems quite distant to the me that lived in Paris. The me that lived in Paris was disconnected from the me that lived in London. And all of them are utterly disconnected from the me that was born and grew up in Nottingham. One of the oddest things about connecting with old school friends on Facebook is trying to figure out the thread that binds us from twenty five years ago. And it's not always easy. Old school nicknames are not something I've heard through all of these lifetimes.

There is a certain joy and wonder in that other worldliness too though. I remember, early in my time in Paris and I was on the Friday night 'roller'. This is the craziest thing in the world, where thousands and thousands of roller bladers take to the streets of Paris every Friday night. They ride a different route each week, they organise it themselves and they now even get help from a rollerblade mounted division of the Paris police force. This was my first ever ride out with them and we ploughed around the streets of Paris that were closed in a rolling road block just for us. We started on up a hill which seemed to go on for miles, rounded a corner, then another and came out in front of... the Arc de Triomphe. We then took a left and started riding down the Champs Elysées. So here I was, riding in a group of maybe 8000 roller bladers, on a Friday night, riding down one of the most famous streets in the world. Closed for everyone except us. It was an amazing moment of the present connecting through to the past and elevating that moment into something altogether wonderful.

I have similar moments here in California. The little boy from Basford, Nottingham. Living in California, working in Silicon Valley. When I moved here I wanted to buy a convertible. I just did. It's the first time I've lived in a place where the climate allows me to have the roof off a car day after day. So I bought an inexpensive two seater and I LOVE driving it. I pull out of my garage and let the roof down...

Often times the sky is blue and the sun feels good in my face. Right now the cherry blossom is popping out all over and everything looks fresh and rather beautiful.

On the route to work, when I was a teenager, I took the bus along Valley Road in Nottingham. I passed under road signs for familiar districts like Beeston and Radford. At the moment I hop on the 101 freeway, which, if I were to continue straight on for 400 miles would dump me into Los Angeles. If I were to hop off at the next junction and take the 101 northbound it would lead me up through San Francisco onto the rugged northern California coastline, into Oregon. It would then traverse the entire western edge of Oregon and into Washington state where the road would round the Olympic National Park and deposit me into Olympia, WA. And I would still be on the 101 freeway, 1128 miles later. So, not even counting the southbound part to LA and San Diego, the 101 is 300 miles longer than the famed 'Lands End to John O'Groats' drive in the UK. Scale in this country is awesome in the truest sense of the word.

Doesn't matter how stressful life gets and, given the global economic meltdown, it is pretty stressful, if we look hard enough there are things to wonder at. We just have to learn how to see them, in the moment in which we live them.

Normal programming will resume soon...

A Different Way of Seeing

2009-02-23T22:49:00.001-08:00

It's been an odd year. Hunkered down is probably the best way to put it. Between February and October of last year I was on the road for about 150 nights. This year, so far, one. One night on the road. There's not particularly any reason for it, it's just the way the chips are falling this year so far. Hand in hand with the lack of travel is a decline in the opportunities to shoot.

Last week I went to Vegas. Three words: hate the place. Always have. I can do about a maximum of three days in the place then I'm ready to poke my eyes out and scrape my tongue with a hedgehog. Anyway, this ain't no city review. All y'all that love the place, have at it, it's all yours.

So, over the past few weeks a friend of mine, Chase, has been posting iPhone pictures to his Twitter feed. I've been fascinated with what he's been doing with his images. Totally at the opposite end of the technological spectrum from his normal gear but with every bit the same passion, eye and flair as everything the man does. So I was sitting on the plane waiting to depart for Las Vegas and I took a picture of the rain and the wet plane out of the window. Using the Camerabag app I was able to turn it into a little mini Polaroid then, using the iPhone Facebook app I could caption it and upload it to my Facebook account. And I was hooked. After that I couldn't stop taking pics and posting them.

Flying.

There is something gloriously simple with this. With the iPhone and Camerabag there is no 'quality' of image with which to concern yourself. There isn't any decision to be taken about glass or the characteristics of a certain lens. It is what it is.

The Green Glow of the MGM Grand

The image that you take is distilled down to it's purest elements: color, light and shade. The other factor that comes into play is that the format is square. Square is a format I've always loved. The first medium format camera I shot with was a Bronica square format camera. After that I got a smoking deal on a Hasselblad 500 and shot hundreds and hundreds of rolls of FP4 and Velvia on that thing... I still have it. It still sits near my desk.

Blue skies, fluffy clouds and palm trees

Light fitting, The Signature Hotel

My little piggy

I think the creative mind needs to break off and head off in a different direction once in a while, see things in a different way. Sometimes it's good to strip things down, take away the details of the technology and break everything down to the bare essentials. Sometimes it feels good to be so free, to take one, maybe two shots, get it in the bag and post. Done. (I won't be selling the other gear just yet).

Images all shot on the iPhone v1, processed in camera with Camerabag, watermark added with Aperture.

Already?

2009-01-14T16:14:00.001-08:00

So we're almost half way through January. Already. Good grief time flies by. Since my final post of 2008 I've been home, then working up in the city and now I'm home, sick. Yes. Sick. Some sort of chest infection that's make me cough up a lung.

Nothing much to say... just wanted to post this picture of a chipped candle holder. Looked so nice in the light.

Shot on the D3 with an old Nikkor 60mm f/2.8 micro... over dinner at the Grand Pu Bah in SF last week.

2008: Final Edition

2008-12-31T11:50:00.001-08:00

December 31st and I'm sitting looking out across the Pacific ocean. It's an arbitrary day, in the grand scheme of things, but a day full of import for many. The last day of our calendar year. It's a day to look back on our accomplishments, travels, people met, people lost, chances taken, chances missed. Hopefully your mental, spiritual and physical balance sheet is in the black.

I feel like maybe it's always the same but this year has felt intense on many levels - professionally, personally and physically. I've traveled extensively with six trips to Canada, two to England and France and one each to China and the Netherlands. On top of that I've been all over the US from Seattle to Miami, San Diego to Boston and many points in between. I've had some super highs and some crushing lows. The year started out with the economic world on fire and ended with that same world in ashes. The new year is on the horizon and no one knows how this is all going to work out. Are we going to keep ploughing into the ground and digging a bigger hole? Will the markets turn around and start to build some strength on the basis of some firm foundations? Right now I have a job, another two years on my visa and a busy year in front of me but, as we all know, that could end in a heartbeat.

Resolutions? Keep on keeping on... keep on working at my photography, try and discover new things, new ways to look at things, new ways to show. I have some some projects to finish, some to start and, generally, tighten the belt and hold on for the ride.

The end of the year brought an interesting celestial phenomenon. A couple of nights ago, as the sun set over the Pacific, the thinnest sliver of moon appeared in the western skies. The moon was barely two and a half days old. Above it, in the darkening blue skies, sat Venus, herself in a half phase. Below all, down in the fading fires of the sunset sat Jupiter and below that, Mercury.

We had lunch outside of Medusa's, here in Cambria, a couple of days ago. We sat out facing out on to the road and ate our soft tacos. The sun felt good on my face and for the first time in weeks I felt myself starting to relax. The motion had stopped for a few minutes, the pain in my root canal tooth had gone and the sneezing that I've been doing the last week had ceased. I felt good. Really good. It was almost like I'd forgotten what that really felt like. As my mind wandered I thought of Sandy Colton, a man I first met two years ago. I met him at the Eddie Adams Workshop in 2006, again in 2007 and again in 2008. Sandy started out in the US Air Force as a writer and photographer for the military newspaper Stars & Stripes. He then worked for the Associated Press as a photographer and editor amongst other things. He is also the father of Jay and Jimmy Colton - Jay a former associate picture editor for Time magazine and Jimmy the picture editor of Sports Illustrated. He was also a devoted member of the Eddie Adams Workshop family from it's inauguration onwards. He was 'heavy' of 'heavies'. I can't say that I knew him but I could see his influence. I felt the regard in which he was held by all that did know him and, as I sat there in the sun, thinking about how good it felt I thought about Sandy and his family.

Sandy passed away on Christmas Day at his home in upstate New York at the age of 83. I thought about Jimmy's introduction speech at Barnstorm back in October, about the way he'd talked about his dad, honoring his achievements and his strength. Sandy got a standing ovation that night. People that knew him well tell me that no one fought for the photographer more than Sandy. I know that ill health took a heavy toll over the past few years but he always attended the workshop, always paid his respects at the memorial. I hope he's sitting back, somewhere, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face.

Aeroplanes Under Grey Skies

2008-12-21T22:14:00.001-08:00

Made the 250 mile round trip to a local(ish) air museum today. Decided I'd go out there with e medium format camera and hope for some interesting clouds. Sadly the interesting clouds that I drove under for most of the journey turned to plate grey by the time I arrived.

The shot below looks like one of those monochromes with some color retained (as Steve says, the 'red dress' effect) but it's actually all color. A natural metal finish North American F-100C Super Sabre under flat grey skies. In fact this particular aircraft was the first production F-100C but, in fact, it never made it into Air Force service. It was used Edwards AFB with NACA (the forerunner of NASA) then moved to Ames at Moffett Field then to San Jose airport for the San Jose State University. Once they were done with it it was loaned to Castle Museum. It's current paint job shows an aeroplane from the 531st Tactical Fighter Squadron of the 21st Tactical Fighter Wing basd at Misawa AB, Japan.

Shot on Leaf Aptus 75, processed in Aperture with a little help from Nik plug-ins.

This shot is monochrome. A Lockheed P-80B Shooting Star, the first type of fighter jet in the US Air Force. This one is painted in the markings of Lt. Russell Brown who is credited with the first ever jet-to-jet 'kill' on November 8, 1950 over Korea.

Thought I'd add in a third. A McDonnell F-101B Voodoo. An astounding plane that first flew in 1954. It's twin -engined grunt could take it up to Mach 1.7 and it set a number of speed and point-to-point records. Some F-101B's saw service with the Air National Guard until 1982 - a remarkable service record.

Medium Format

2008-12-08T20:35:00.001-08:00

Gotta love it. Mamiya 645AFDII, Leaf Aptus 75, Profoto Acute 4D driven by Acute 2R pack. Images processed in Aperture with a little help from Nik Sharpener. Shot in our garage. Model? J, obviously...

Black and White Aeroplanes

2008-12-04T23:08:00.001-08:00

I've been playing around and reprocessing a bunch of files for 'the book' using Nik's incredible plug-ins for Aperture.

This is an A-4 Skyhawk, known in the trade as a 'Scooter'. One of the most successful US Navy and Marine Corps aircraft of all time. It first flew in 1954, entered service in 1956 and didn't finally leave USN service until 2003 - an astounding 47 years in service. It flew under the flags of Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Indonesia, Israel, Kuwait, Malaysia, New Zealand and Singapore.

The aircraft below is an A-4C on display at the Flying Leatherneck Museum at MCAS Miramar, San Diego, California. It was entered into service with the US Navy in April 1961. It went to VA-192, the 'Golden Dragons' in 1971. It then went to the Marine Corps Reserve, eventually ending up at MCAS El Toro.

Towing

2008-12-03T21:49:00.001-08:00

As a minor follow up to my towing story... I was chatting with the guy who towed me to the garage today. He was talking about people who don't give roadside emergency teams space on the freeway. He said, 'every issue of Tow Times has some guy who got crushed to death at the side of the road'.

Wait a second... Tow Times? Sure enough... I mean, why wouldn't there be? I'm glad that they have their own magazine.

People Say The Strangest Things

2008-12-02T21:00:00.001-08:00

Finally got out of the office about 6:30 tonight and walked down to the parking garage under the office. I chatted with my boss on the way out then walked over to my car. I put the pack in the back and got in. Turned the key, engine turned. Nothing. Tried again. And again. And again. Nothing. Dead car.

Went back up to my office and cracked out the AAA card. The nice guy from the two company showed up within about fifteen minutes, tried to start the car. Nothing. So he put it up on the tow truck and we headed out for my home. The guy was great - quick, efficient and friendly. But people do decide to say the strangest things. His first real conversation with me, as we drove, started with the following sentence:

"You know, my first fatality pick up was a car like yours, a guy up on skyline, going too fast, straight into a tree like this... "

The Passage of Time

2008-12-01T21:54:00.001-08:00

When I moved from London to Paris I left behind a lot of stuff in storage. I also had some stuff back at my parents house. When I relocated to the US in spring 2006 I took the opportunity to get the stuff from my parents and put it with my storage stuff in London. Then, when the relo people picked up my London stuff, it all came to the US with me. Buried, deep, deep down in the London shipment was a box and in that box was hundreds and hundreds of 'snappy snaps snapshots'. Essentially the story of my life.

I haven't seen a lot of these pictures for 10 or so years. It's really quite a trip to go back in time and see the things you did and the person you were. The changes are invisible day to day but breathtaking when viewed at a distance of twenty years. So, over the course of the coming months I'm going to be trawling through my box of memories.

Back in the late 1980's I was a skater. In fact I raced. Something called Short Track. That's the kind of speed skating you see Apolo Anton Ohno doing, indoors, tight track all elbows and frantic speed. I became a speed skater because I'd been a skater since I was about 10 years old. I loved it. I skated, at one time, almost every night of the week. My parents were happy that I was getting exercise in a safe environment and I loved skating like a beast. Me and my mates used to scoot around the ice, weaving in and out, jumping through gaps, going backwards, you name it. And, of course, there were girls. To me, at 15 or 16, they were utterly unattainable. And then, finally, it clicked and I met a girl. At the Nottingham Ice Stadium. She was a skater too. She was cute as a button and I was smitten. It wasn't to last, I caught her, making out with a mate of mine. At the Nottingham Ice Stadium.

Around that time I wasn't racing but I did take part in the 'sports' section of a Friday night down at the Stadium. The sports section allowed those beyond beginner to go nuts for a few minutes - skating fast as you wanted - sometimes in a circle, occasionally in a dazzlingly dangerous figure-eight (wonder if that is even legal now). During the sports we used to barrel jumping too. We'd get some gallon cans out on the ice, skate like lunatics and try to jump over them. It was insane. Then we found out that there was an official Barrel Jumping sport in Canada. It even had a world championships! We formed a team and became the Great Britain Barrel Jumping team. We arranged to go compete in Canada and France. For some reason (I think I'd broken something) I couldn't jump... so I became a referee. Before I knew it I'd refereed several world championships indoors and out, mens and womens.

This picture is me as Chief Official at the Outdoor World Barrel Jumping Championships in Ottawa, Canada around 1989.

We had a blast on these trips, especially the trips to Canada which were my first trips to North America. The picture below is me as a young 20-something riding a Skidoo for the first time. Shortly after this picture was taken my buddy took a turn to drive and drove us through a barbed wire fence. He needed stitches. I needed a new ski jacket and gloves.

I had hair. I was a lot thinner. I was pretty fit. I was traveling the world and becoming addicted to it.

Good times.

Joshua Tree

2008-11-13T21:39:00.001-08:00

Been so so busy over the past few weeks I've barely had time to post. I guess my thoughts have been racing too fast for my fingers to type.

A couple of weeks ago I was on a shoot in Southern California, in the Joshua Tree National Park. It's one of my favourite places to shoot and, somehow, I'm never disappointed with the sunsets there. This time around there were no clouds and I was expecting a less than stellar sunset. But, in fact, it was clear and rather beautiful.

Yes, he did.

2008-11-04T22:39:00.001-08:00

I've lived and voted in general elections in Britain. I've watched the Presidential election in France and, now, I've seen a US Presidential election. It's quite something. Watching history happen in front of you.

I'm not American but I've always loved this country. I spoke with my mother a couple of weeks ago and she, as a young girl in the middle of England, grew up looking to the US as being a truly special place and I think it is. It's an incredible country. I've always thought so. Things happen here.

But there has been an awful amount wrong with the country for a long time. The last eight years has seen the country's popularity slip to unknown depths across the world. The economy has plummeted, breathlessly, to almost unbelievable depths. It has been embroiled in a war which had little or no mandate and which, by next April, will have lasted as long as the Second World War (and longer than America's involvement in that war).

Now the country has a leader of intelligence, seemingly strong, passionate, balanced, energetic and somewhat charismatic. He has mobilised a disinterested youth to reenergize their interest and voice in politics and the direction of their country and, by default, their future.

Barack Obama's speech, tonight, was powerful, moving, strong and, above all else, inclusive. He appealed to those whose votes he didn't win. He spoke to his colleagues across the political divide. He also told the story of an American woman 'of colour' that voted today at the age of 106. He related how much she has seen in her lifetime. It carried with it the weight of history that must stare back from the mirror for every American tomorrow morning. Even as a non-American I shed a tear for the thought that this may just be the start of something truly great. So much hope, so much anticipation and so much to do.

One of my favourite journalists is the BBC's John Simpson. As ever, he was utterly on point tonight.

Rise up, America, make this, at least, a start to craft a better future.

Doing the good thing

2008-11-01T10:47:00.001-07:00

I arrived at LAX early morning Wednesday for a shoot up in Joshua Tree. I took the shuttle bus across to the Hertz. Signed in. Got my stuff. Used the restroom. Grabbed some water. Found the car. Headed out to Pomona to meet someone. I pulled into the parking lot in Pomona and headed into a Starbucks for coffee. I went to the restroom there too to wash my hands. That's when I noticed something missing. My Navajo thumbring.

It wasn't an expensive ring but it meant a lot to me. I got it out in the deserts of northern Arizona on our summer road trip last year. I take it off when I wash my hands. I guess having been up since 4am I wasn't too crisp - I'd forgotten to put it back on.

I called the LAX Hertz office, pressed '5' for lost and found and got an answering service. I held little hope as I explained my predicament to the machine. Julie arrived with the package I was taking up to the shoot. I got back in the car and headed out.

Within 5 mins the phone rang. It was Pam at Hertz. She'd sent a guy into the restroom and they'd found my ring. The next morning I went into Hertz to drop the car off at 5am and a guy called Berry helped me out. He'd actually been the guy who'd found it.

To people like Pam and Berry I tip my hat. You do your company proud. Many thanks for your prompt action.

Flying: Out On A Limb

2008-10-20T20:58:00.001-07:00

If you drive east out of New York there isn't much left of the continent aside from a spur of land that runs east and north out into the Atlantic ocean. It's called Long Island. I've been to New York a bunch of times and I've been to places 'upstate' but I'd never been out on to the island itself. On Sunday I had a car and a free day so I headed out to explore some of the island.

If you look up a list of famous New Yorkers chances are that they may have come from Long Island; Billy Joel, Billy Crystal, Walt Whitman, Steve Buscemi, Rodney Dangerfield, Kevin James, Joe Satriani and Howard Stern to name but a few. Many of the worlds rich and famous make their second home in Long Island in what has become known simply as 'The Hamptons' at the far eastern end of the island.

Some famous things have happened on the Island too like the first transatlantic radio telephone transmitter at Rocky Point. The Lighthouse at Montauk was New York's first coastal beacon back in 1796. And Lindbergh made the first solo transatlantic flight from Roosevelt Field to Paris in 1927 flying the famed Spirit of St Louis airplane.

In fact, the history of Long Island is intertwined with the history of American aviation all the way from the early beginnings up to and including putting man on the moon. In the early years of the aviation boom, the golden age - between about the world wars - companies set up shop on Long Island and aviators pushed the boundaries of flight to previously unimaginable lengths. Before Lindbergh, in 1919, a Curtiss flying boat flew from Long Island to England with two stops en route. In 1923 John Macready and Oakley Kelley took off from Roosevelt Field and flew, non-stop, to San Diego - the first non-stop flight across the continent of the US. The flight took them 27hrs to cover 2520 miles.

Companies like Curtiss and Sikorsky opened up in Garden City. Sperry and Fairchild in Farmingdale and, later, Grumman and Republic. These latter two companies served the US military throughout the second world war and all the way up into the most recent conflicts in the Gulf. The Grumman company developed a line of aircraft for the US Navy - the famous Grumman 'cats' - that stretch from Wildcats and Hellcats in World War II, through Bearcats, Panthers, Cougars and the Tiger all the way up to one of the most successful naval aircraft of all time, the F-14 Tomcat, the last of the cats. Republic produced one of the most fearsome fighter aircraft of the second world war, the P-47 Thunderbolt, lovingly known as 'the Jug'. Just as Grumman had their cats Republic stuck with Thunder, developing the Thunderjet and Thunderstreak which saw service in Korea and the Thunderchief, known as the 'Thud', which saw much service during the Rolling Thunder operations of the Vietnam war. By the mid-60s Republic was subsumed into another Long Island company, Fairchild, and became known as Fairchild Republic. Under that name it developed one of the most potent and unusual ground attack aircraft, the A-10 Thunderbolt II lovingly referred to as 'the Warthog'. The A-10 is still in service.

I visited the American Airpower Museum in Farmingdale and saw some of their aircraft. Sitting outside are some examples of cold war hardware built on the island, an F-105 Thunderchief and a rare RF-84 Thunderflash reconnaisance aircraft.

The Republic RF-84 Thunderflash

A General Dynamics F-111.

They also had a meeting of the local hotrod club.

Grumman was quite the company on the island once upon a time. At the height of it's cold war defence contracts the company employed nearly 23,000 people on the Island. After a bidding war between Martin Marietta and Northrop, Northrop purchased the company for 2.1 billion dollars in 1994. It was the end of the line for Grumman on the island. Before all of that happened though Grumman won the contract to build the lunar module for the Apollo missions. The actual ship that descended to the moon. LM-5 was called 'the eagle', this was the lunar module that actually first touched down on the moon as part of Apollo 11. LM-12 was flown on Apollo 17 and LM-13 was destined for Apollo 18 which, of course, was cancelled. LM-13 now stands proudly in the small Cradle of Aviation museum in Garden City. It's a lovely little museum that deserves to be visited for it's place as, literally, the cradle of American aviation.

LM-13, the lunar module for Apollo 18.

After I'd visited the museums I carried on out along the Long Island Expressway, came off on the 27 and headed to Montauk Point, the furthest tip of the island. I arrived as the sun was setting and looked at the lighthouse, the gulls and felt the wind in my face. I wanted to stay and soak it all up but somehow I was just too tired to be poetic.

This particular road trip has taken it's toll and I wanted to start the long trek back to New York to drop off the rental and get to my hotel. I wanted to get my week started and get home. I got back in the car, pausing only to look at the horses in the setting sun then I took off and headed back to the metropolis.

500

2008-10-15T15:35:00.001-07:00

I like driving. I can drive all day. Yesterday, I did. I drove from Liberty, NY to Charlottesville, VA. I've never tripped through the eastern side of the country. Interesting to move from New York to Pennsylvania to Maryland to West Virginia to Virginia. Finally pulling into Charlottesville around 11pm last night.

Lakestarpaint

2008-10-10T21:25:00.001-07:00

Stopped off on my way back to the hotel tonight. At the lake where I seem to keep stopping. The moon is pretty bright and I light painted the trees...

Water

2008-10-09T17:03:00.001-07:00

Quick post from a shot tonight driving back to the hotel.

Coffee

2008-10-09T16:53:00.001-07:00

My name is Martin and I've been a coffee addict, now, for a great many years. There, I've said it. Do I feel better? If I could get a coffee, yes.

When you're in the big cities getting a half decent coffee isn't much of a challenge. You can step out of any hotel and straight into a nearby Starbucks for something. Some hotels even skip the outside part and have a Starbucks right there in the lobby.

Sometimes though, it's just not that easy to find a coffee place. Recently I was in Jackson Hole, WY and searching for coffee. I came across a small tucked away Italian restaurant one night. Outside they had a few tables with those distinctive red umbrellas that usually mean one thing: Illy coffee. Sure enough, they serve Illy. The place is run by a great German dude called Alex who ended up in Jackson via Boston where he studied at Berklee. I ate there one night and had, quite simply, the best lasagne I've ever had. Wholly recommended. The coffee was stellar too although note that it's a cafe for lunch and dinner so doesn't open until 11am. If you're gasping for caffeine any earlier than there's a Tully's in the Albertsons but anything after 11, head for Cafe Ponza at 50 W. Broadway in Jackson.

Now I find myself in upstate New York. The nearest Starbucks is at least 40 miles away and I need coffee. Last year I took a wrong turn and ended up in the middle of nowhere and pulled off into the small town of Roscoe, NY. In Roscoe is a great little cafe called Buffalo Zach's. It's a cafe with a difference.

It's run by a guy called Peter Swersey. The following is printed on the back of their menus:

Some two and a half years ago, with the help of three of the most prestigious New York hospitals, the proprietor of this unique café decided to fulfill a dream of his by building the first Survivorship retreat and sanctuary for Cancer patients in this country, just outside of beautiful Roscoe, NY. It was the profound loss of three of his family members to the horrific disease of Cancer that drew him to this mission.
This very strong commitment of his had him spend over 1 ½ years in the planning stages to launch what will become known as “Camp Tomorrow”, A Place of Hope, Renewal and Healing; so Cancer survivors can remain cancer free for the remaining years of their lives.

The inception of Buffalo Zach’s Café in Roscoe will serve as a support and foundation for the funding of “Camp Tomorrow”. The opening for his retreat is scheduled in the near future and hopefully will be the beginning of many more cancer survival retreats in the country. It is in this context that the entire staff at Buffalo Zach’s Café would like to Thank You for having the pleasure of serving you, our valued customer. Thank You for entering these premises and allowing us to accommodate you and hopefully making your visit a delightful experience.

So, the coffee is seriously very good, the food is great - if the buffalo chicken panini I had today is anything to go by - and the staff are just wonderful. And the profits go to a good cause. What you waitin' for?

Musical Transportation

2008-10-08T22:04:00.001-07:00

Music, more than just about any other sense, is the one that transports me in time and place. I can be just about anywhere and I'll hear a song and I can see and sense just what I was doing when that song was around first time out.

I remember earlier this year driving through Oklahoma on the way to a shoot. A song came on the radio - I forget what it was now - but my memories of that song go all the way back to when I only knew Oklahoma as a musical movie.

It happened again tonight, too. The drive from JFK airport in NY to Liberty, NY is probably about 2hrs straight. I've never managed to achieve that. For whatever reason my brain melts down as I navigate the twisting roads that cross from Queens, through the top half of Manhattan and the Bronx. Wiggling through New Jersey and then back into New York State again. I'm usually tired and hungry from the flight from SF. It's usually dark and cold and, more often than not, a little wet. Whatever it all is, I usually get lost several times before shuffling into Liberty sometime around 11pm. So, I normally try and get some food on the way. Usually that food is some horrid little roadside service station but tonight I managed to find a Chili's by the road in Ramsey, NY.

The food was pleasant enough and there was a Dunkin Donuts next door. I needed a coffee for the road so I called in. As I was waiting for my latte a song came on their radio. It was Spandau Ballet playing 'True'. My mind spun out of control and all the way back to 1983 when that song hit the charts and was played non-stop back in England. I was fresh out of school, I was 16 going on 17 and the world was my lobster. It was the smoochie record of the year but my teens were not a good time for me with smoochie partners so I remember, with some irritation, hearing that song being played over and over and over again on the radio, at parties, discos. You name it, wherever people were likely to be "makin' out", there was that Spandau style sax-break. There was Mr Hadley givin' it his best shot in the crooning stakes. I can still picture all the smooth dudes dressing sharp since Spandau ditched the highland tribesman look and went into full on sharp suit and tie, impeccable hair gelled to within an inch of it's life. All of that and all of twenty five years ago. I had hair then.

I smiled to myself, paid the man and headed off into the night to get lost in upstate New York yet again.

Public Service Post

2008-10-04T00:07:00.001-07:00

Voting
Even though I can't vote here... I would recommend you watch these. Better yet, send them to as many voting friends as you can.

Link: Clean Version

Link: Slightly Fruity Language Version

Health Issue

Last year the great photojournalist James Nachtwey won the TED Prize. This prize allowed him to finance a story of his own choosing. As with all of his work Jim wanted to make a difference. The result is the XDRTB organisation to combat the pandemic spread of extremely drug-resistant tuberculosis (XDR-TB). Pass on the word and increase awareness of this disease.

XDR-TB

One last thing, if you think TB only happens in poor countries. My best friend caught TB... in London, England...

Jackson Hole II

2008-09-30T13:18:00.001-07:00

I've been here for a week. It's been a hard week, worked hard, long days, early mornings. Been up for sunrise most days, the light is so beautiful. Of course this week the leaves are also turning, which makes the colors in everything so rich. The temperature fluctuations are crazy. In the early morning hours it's around 24º F (-4º C) and in the middle of the day it gets way up into the mid 70's (20's C).

Yesterday I went out early morning and drove up towards Oxbow Bend to a large prairie. I've seen horses and buffalo up there but in the dying light of the day. I wanted to get them at dawn. First up were horses. I could see a couple of off in the distance so we drove down a little, then realised that they were heading towards us... whipping the car back to a pullout the horses galloped into view before the sun even came up.

As the sun started to ignite the long yellow grass I noticed that the buffalo which had been in the field behind had made a beeline for the road... and then crossed it... and headed into the field I was looking at.

There were hundreds of them. Beautiful in the warm morning sun.

Many of them jumped the fence to take off into the field with the horses.

Some just stopped and stared straight at me.

These things are big. Big enough to stop traffic on the main road heading from Jackson to Yellowstone.

Further on down the road, the horses had come to a halt and were relaxing in the sun.

Every once in a while they'd all take off, galloping across the prairie.

Jackson Hole

2008-09-25T23:01:00.001-07:00

I'm writing this in a hotel in Jackson Hole, WY. This small town nestles at the foot of the Grand Tetons a truly amazing an iconic part of the US.

I'll be writing more about the place when I've had more than three hours sleep. In the meantime... a shot from sunrise this morning. Edited in Aperture + Color Efex.

These were both taken shortly after sunrise

More to come...

Cambria

2008-09-23T12:04:00.001-07:00

I've been to Cambria a whole bunch of times over the past seven or eight years. It's long been a favourite little getaway from the Bay Area. J and I are wont to go down there a few weekends a year. Door to door, our house to any of our 'preferred' hotels is about 3hrs. It's become quite a chic little place too with art galleries, antique stores, nick-nacks and boutiques.

Someone in one of the stores told us that this summer had been a disastrous one for them, 'one of the worst in memory' she said. I was trying to figure out why that would be so. The US dollar is so bad against just about every other country on the planet, a lot of Americans are staying closer to home than usual because it's just cheaper. But, I realised, that Cambria is no longer an inexpensive 'ride out'. Gas might be slightly down on what it was a couple of months ago but it's still high. Out on the central coast it's always more expensive than in the major cities - higher cost of delivery, I guess. The restaurants are not so cheap. The stores offer no bargains. It feels like the town priced itself up during the good times, rising ever higher upmarket and, now, now that rainy times are upon us and the economy, the place is just too expensive. 200 miles in a car that does nearly 28 to the gallon is still over 7 gallons. At local prices that is around 30 bucks. So that's 60, round trip. Two nights in a hotel, and you're not looking at much change from 300. Two dinners, without alcohol at about 30 each. Couple of lunches at 20 each. Other incidentals 'n' stuff and you're looking at about 500 bucks for a short weekend getaway. No wonder people are staying home.

Anyway. Aside from that. It's still a great town. Get a good coffee at Cambria Coffee. Great fudge from Erica at Cambria Fudge. Decent pasta at Lombardi's and great Thai at Wild Ginger. Not going to say where we stay, it's already hard enough to get a room there...

Around and about in town. Interesting bumper sticker. "George W. Bush is saving your ass, whether you like it or not". I still don't have a clue what that means.

We often get feathered visitors on our hotel balcony. Especially when tempted by health bar goodness. This is a fine looking Stellar's Jay.

Just down the coast, on the way to San Simeon, are beaches teeming with wildlife. One particularly beach has hundreds of snowy plovers. They sit on the beach in little depressions they make in the sand. Occasionally rising as one into the air to hang on the winds coming in from the sea.

Sitting atop a trash can in the turnout

All rise and take air

A turkey vulture comes to join the party

Further along the coast there are elephant seals. I first photographed them there about 8 years ago on one of my first trips along Highway 1. I remember pulling into a turnout late at night, in the dark, just to stop and look at the stars. I got out of the car and there was the most unearthly sounds coming from the darkness. I found out later, when I got to my hotel, that the noises were made by elephant seals. Back in those days they beached in a little cove near a turnout. Now, the Friends of the Elephant Seals have built a walkway and protection barriers for the seals. Saving the public from the occasional encounter and, of course, the seals from the marauding masses. It's hard to get anywhere near them anymore. These were all shot with the D3 attached to the William Optics Zenithstar II telescope with a camera adaptor.

Of course, one of the nice things about being down on the coast is that there is a lot less light pollution from towns. I took this shot with the D3 and a 24mm lens. Exposure wasn't too long at 15s at ISO 4000 and f/2.8. The dark lanes of the Milky Way and, toward the lower left, Jupiter, shining bright.

From the balcony of the hotel, I shot this with the D3 and an 85mm f/1.4. 5 seconds, wide open at ISO 1600. The long smudge, towards the upper left is our nearest galactic neighbour - The Andromeda Galaxy.

The next morning, as we were leaving, the moon rode high and dreamlike in the morning blue sky. Shot with the telescope.

Moonlight

2008-09-18T21:14:00.001-07:00

After photographing the moon this week I grew curious to photograph the light of the moon...

Pushing the moon

2008-09-16T23:45:00.001-07:00

Thought I'd try the Nik tools on a decent moon shot, tonight, taken through my telescope.

Image taken with a Nikon D3, shot through a 120mm achromatic refractor. Eyepiece adapter with 12mm plössl eyepiece. ISO 400. Exposure of 1/125s. Edited in Aperture. Final finishing with Nik Viveza and Sharpener.

Moonglow

2008-09-16T09:59:00.001-07:00

I have a 200-400 f/4 Nikkor on loan at the moment, I thought I'd give it a go on the recently waning moon. This shot was taken at ISO 400, f/11 at 1/250s. Imported into Aperture where I made my edit and where it was 'balanced'. Then, using Nik Software's Viveza, I managed to bring down the 'heat' of Tycho's ejecta. I then used Sharpener 3.0 on it to bring out as much detail as possible.

I'm going to have a go with one of my telescopes one of these fine nights. Tethering my D3 into the MacBook Pro makes short work of getting critical focus/exposure right through the telescope. More to come.

A Perfect Burger

2008-09-13T21:19:00.001-07:00

If you're ever in California, somewhere near San Jose, and you decide that you need garlic, chances are that you'll end up in Gilroy. Gilroy prides itself on being the garlic producing capital of the world* and they even hold an annual Garlic Festival in the town to proclaim their love of the fragrant bud. There are plenty of garlic shops that will sell all manner of garlicked products.

But there is another delightful secret there in town. At the corner of Monterey and Seventh is Baha Burger a tiny little 'drive in' that makes great little burgers. Old school burgers.

The place was bought 40 years by a guy called Al Tamayo. He bought it from an Iranian student who needed to give the place up. Al, apparently, can't remember the student's name but it was something like "Bahadin" so now the place is called Baha Burgers.

We see Al through the window when we order but we order from Marina, Al's daughter. Today we saw Al's wife through the window too - it's a family affair.

There's nothing fancy about the place. Vinyl seats, creaky tables, and some old gaming machines.

But the cheeseburgers. Well, the cheeseburgers are worth the drive. Simple patties on plain bread buns with mustard, onions, tomatoes and cheese. The french fries are crinkle cut and delicious. And the shakes? Ah, yes, the banana shake is my favourite...

* according to statistics on Wikipedia, Gilroy isn't even close to being the garlic capital of the world. China produces around 75% of the worlds output of garlic, the US, in comparison, produces 2%. Not that I'm knocking Gilroy... it's a great town.. it's just that China produces a frightening amount of garlic.

For those that dare II

2008-09-09T22:46:00.000-07:00

In my ongoing desire to share the glories of my business travel I thought I'd explain my journey back from France to the Bay Area for your reading pleasure.

I got to bed Saturday night, Sunday morning at around 3:30am. My alarm went off at 6:15am and I leaped out of bed all panicky around 6:40am. I was checked out and on the road by 6:55 (I packed the night before... free travel tip, knock yourself out).

I picked up Brett down town around 7:05 and we headed down into the south of Perpignan and the freeway down towards Girona. We pulled into Girona around 8:15 and dropped Brett off in front of the main train station. I pulled back on to the main freeway to Barcelona and clogged it.

I pulled off at a gas station on the outskirts of Barcelona to fill up the rental car. It was a Renault Laguna. New one. A funny thing about French car designers - they like to do things differently. It took several minutes and the assistance of the garage attendants reading the manual in Spanish in order to find the gas cap release. Who know. You just push it and it opens. I pressed on to Barcelona and El Prat Airport. Dropped the car off and legged it to the American Airlines check in desk.

There was a huge line for check in for the main cabin and only about 12 people in line at the business desk. Excellent as, for once, I was traveling business. I looked up at the board and it already showed a 90 minute delay on my flight. Great. Time passed, the main cabin check in line dwindle and mine barely moved. I swear every single person in line before me on the main cabin line checked in before I did.

The flight passed reasonably without incident. Apart from the wailing bairn a few seats behind me. By the time we landed at JFK we were three hours overdue. My layover time which seemed generous now seemed paltry.

As soon as the doors opened I ran to the immigration desks and got in line. JFK being my first point of entry into the US meant that I needed to pass immigration and customs. Of course they aren't in a hurry and really don't care that much about potential missed flights. I eventually got through and headed for bags. One would have thought that given all the time in immigration the bags would have come through. But no.

Finally got bags and joined everyone else in the line for flight reassignments. They judged that I was worthy of a shift to a Delta flight. Which ran from Terminal 3. I was at Terminal 9. I hoofed upstairs and took the Airtrain over to Terminal 3, my least favourite terminal at JFK. There was a business class check in so I managed to skip the lines and got my back checked and boarding pass. Now for security.

Because I had now changed away from my American Airlines regular tickets and was now on Delta my return leg to SFO showed as a one way ticket. The TSA deem holders of one way tickets to be somewhat suspect. If you are flagged as suspect you get 'SSSS' printed on your boarding pass. (There is some debate as to whether SSSS is random, but each time I get a one way ticket I get SSSS). Being suspect means that you get a much more thorough search - which is exactly what I need after being on the road for about 12hrs at this point. A man in a headset talked to someone who was clearly watching us on camera. He searched me to the instructions being given to him on his headset. Rather bizarre.

Finally got onto my flight to SFO. Tried to eat. But fell asleep. Tried to wake up, several times, but couldn't. Finally arrived at SFO and waited interminably for my bag. Almost got into a fight with some kid on the airtrain,

"Is this train going to the airport?"

"Yes, it's the loop train... it only goes to the airport"

We pull out and move away from the airport (but it's a loop, it'll loop back) and he says,

"Ah, so you were wrong".

"What? What did you say?"

"You're wrong, it's going the wrong way"

"It's a LOOP!!!! It can't go the WRONG WAY"

I was so angry I could have punched him. Seriously, if you ask directions accept what people tell you. Or don't ask.

I finally made it to the car and staggered into my house a full 26hrs after I had left my hotel in Perpignan. Joy for traveling. Monday came around and I could barely walk, talk or phrase a sentence. Not sure that I've ever felt as tired. The combination of Beijing followed by Perpignan took it's toll.

Perpignan

2008-09-09T21:17:00.001-07:00

Every year the worlds greatest photojournalists gather for a week of meetings, conversation and occasional imbibing of French beer in the southern French mediaeval town of Perpignan.

The festival is run by the inimitable Jean-François Leroy who is known throughout the community for his drive, passion and commitment to the craft and art of photojournalism. Once a year he prepares a full week of screenings in the open air of the Campo Santo. This year the screenings celebrated the stories of the past year, current work and a recap of some of the work shown over the previous twenty years. Aside from the screenings are panel discussions, exhibitions and agency portfolio reviews. This year attracted 3000 people from the photojournalism community.

The light in the south of France is just incredible. The evening light slowly warms up the buildings and on one particular night the clock tower overlooking the Campo Santo was bathed in sunlight but with strong storm clouds in the background. As the evening drew on large storks came to sit on the tower.

Beijing - All Over II

2008-08-19T23:44:00.001-07:00

The Olympic volunteer kids are quite incredible. I spent a good amount of time with them after my mammoth day out trying to get a car and driver for my second day. They wrangled and wrestled, haggled and hustled. Eventually, after trying various options we decided to just book a taxi in the morning. So that's exactly what I did...

My driver headed out into the empty freeways of north Beijing. About two hours out is the small town of Simatai, home to a gloriously unrestored section of the Great Wall. I headed out by a rickety cable car which traversed deep gorges and close by shrubbery. The cars held only two and most of them were empty. The creakiness was evident, as was the rusty two bolts holding the car hook to the cable. After the cable car is a small funicular train and then the hike. Goodness me, the hike. I arrived at the top of the great wall panting, sweating and suffering from the heat and humidity.

It was a hazy day but the wall snaked out into the distance. The Great Wall of China is something that most learn of as small children in school. It's not something I ever really thought I'd one day stand on. But there I was. It goes into the box with the Pyramids...

Never one to pass up an opportunity to find places to add some more info to my book project, I found an air museum on the outskirts of Beijing. What a spectacular it one was too.

A converted airbase with a spectacular collection MiG's and Shenyang made fighter aircraft. The first portion is inside of a hangar 'tunnel' dug out of a hillside. When you arrive on the other side of the tunnel there is a long row of MiG's, in the setting it is truly an atmospheric moment.

I walked in the heat and stifling humidity - the air museum is located in a jungle like area - past rows of aircraft. Even Chairman Mao's transport aircraft...

Yet again I fell asleep in the car on the way back to Beijing.

More to come on my last few days in China...

Beijing - All Over

2008-08-19T22:58:00.001-07:00

And so, just like that, I'm back in California. As I was packing in Beijing it seemed that I'd been there forever but now I'm back it feels like it was only yesterday that I was getting ready to go. Travel does odd things to time.

The last week started to stretch into a blur of activity with additional colleagues arriving and others leaving to return to the US. After about 20 straight days of work I could take a couple of days off. With only a fixed time in Beijing and only some of that to be used for personal time and shooting I wanted to make the most of it.

On my first day I visited Tiantan, the Temple of Heaven. It's an enormous complex of temples and gardens with a truly amazing place. A place where people dance, play cards, chinese chess, tai chi. You name it, people are doing it in the gardens of the Temple of Heaven.

From there I moved on to lunch near Tiananmen Square and then on to the Military Museum. I wanted to visit the Museum for some research on my book but it proved to be more than I expected. Full of aircraft, tanks and other items of military memorabilia but also fascinating exhibits about the various battles fought by China over the centuries.

After schlepping around the Temple of Heaven and the Museum my legs were sore. I sat outside the Museum and rearranged my camera gear, flagged a cab down and asked the driver to take me to the area of the Dongsi Hutongs. As soon as he set off I fell asleep. I woke up to find the driver shaking me and telling me that I had arrived - somewhere. I paid him and stepped out in to the street. I could barely open both my eyes I was so tired. It was late in the afternoon and I could see that the sun was heading down, that gave me a bearing as I headed into the little back alleys.

It's official Beijing is huge. I walked for miles and miles, always in the right direction, getting ever closer to my hotel... and then I gave up and jumped into the subway. It was only two stations away but two stations in Beijing are not like two stations in New York.

Beijing - Week 1

2008-08-09T07:38:00.001-07:00

It's been quite the week. Been working hard all week with little or no time to blog. Some colleagues came in as the week went on and we shifted hotels from the Sheraton to the Tibet, where we will stay, now, for the duration.

The highlights of this week have all revolved around the people. The young Chinese people that I have met have been absolutely outstanding. Beyond polite, outrageously helpful and seemingly delighted to have the world camping out in their back garden for a month. At times it's almost been overwhelming. On Thursday night two or three of us went for a walk along the fence on the outer perimeter fence of the Olympic park. Hundreds and hundreds of locals were out doing the same. We saw very few westerners. Just Chinese people looking at the sleeping spectacle that they knew, within 24hrs, would erupt into the international festival that is the Olympics. This girl was one of the hundreds snapping images of the scene.

Many of the people out there were carrying flags and sporting China gear everywhere

Everyone was happy to have their picture taken and many wanted to photograph us. This group plunked a Beijing sticker on my arm as they walked on.

Of course, last night, the games finally opened. I stepped out of the back door of the main press center to see President Bush's cavalcade scooting past towards the main National Stadium - the now famous Bird's Nest. I didn't have access to enter the Stadium for the ceremony itself but was totally happy to be outside with many of the performers for the ceremony - there were some outstanding costumes.

And then, of course, there were the fireworks. Lighting up the sky above the magnificent Birds Nest.

I pretty much limped back to the press center, after spending a full day working and six hours shooting out around the park.

A truly outstanding night.

New Banner Image

2008-08-02T01:52:00.001-07:00

If you're wondering about the new banner image... it was take at Lake Tahoe earlier this week.

Beijing - Day 1

2008-08-02T01:23:00.000-07:00

Managed to sleep all through the night... which means I'm just about on TZ. Love that.

Got up and sent out some mails 'n' stuff, showered and headed down to get a cab to the Olympic Park. Hotter than heck by 11am this morning. Worked for a few hours then headed back to the hotel. The skies have turned seriously dark here which means I'm going to wait before going out for a walk. I think we have a storm headed in.

Something amusing about large 'western' style hotels in Asia. I'm at a hotel in Beijing, the capital of China and yet, Tuesday night is 'Mexican Night'!!! (I think Thursday night was 'Austrian Night'. There is a French Bistro downstairs and a little patisserie selling coffee's and croissants. I realise that this no weirder than one of my favourite Thai restaurants being in a hotel in Copenhagen or one of my favourite Mexican restaurants being in Paris.

I checked before I came as to what kinda power sockets they have here and I found out that alongside most Chinese sockets (three pin blade type, like Australia) is a socket that takes two pin US (blades) and two pin European (pins). So I came with a Chinese adapter and power cables of both US and European style. I walked into my hotel room last night and found... British square three pin sockets. The only plugs I NEVER thought of bringing. I managed to find two pin under the desk... so it's all good.

Have to say, the people here are super friendly. Always ready with a smile. Appreciate if you speak a little Mandarin.... so far I have 'nihao ma', 'xiexie ni' and 'tianqi re' down. That's 'How are you?', 'thanks' and 'I'm hot'. I hoping that that latter translation means literally not, figuratively. Otherwise all these people are going to think I'm an extremely confident Englishman.

This is the view from my hotel this morning... I've seen way smoggier days in Los Angeles.

Beijing - Just Arrived

2008-08-01T02:25:00.000-07:00

And as usual my first taste of a country is from the back of a cab...

The flight was rammed with people from the US athletics team, some competitors from Costa Rica and tons of media people from NBC and various sponsor people. On arrival at Beijing Airport there were tons of media people, stills and video, shooting people getting off the planes. There are masses of 'helpers', young Chinese people that speak English and are very eager to assist. Made the passage through the airport painless.

Now, I have to go find the Main Press Center... shower and another taxi. Oh, it's hot here, did I mention that?

On the road again...

2008-07-31T09:17:00.001-07:00

So, I'm sitting in the United Lounge at SFO waiting for my flight to Beijing. This is going to be quite the ride. I don't know why this trip feels different to the hundreds of others I've taken over the years - it just does. It's an unknown. I try, if I can, to make sure I hit up at least one new country per year. This year would be looking pretty bleak without this trip.

Next entry will be from the capital of the People's Republic of China.

My odd traveling life

2008-07-27T22:13:00.001-07:00

So, last weekend I was in Hawai'i... this weekend I'm currently in Truckee near Lake Tahoe, California and by this time next week I'll be in Beijing and less than a week away from the start of the Olympic Games. Weird.

Shot some pics for the book today.

Reached that age....

2008-07-22T08:48:00.000-07:00

As Kareem Abdul-Jabar once said, 'you reach a certain age where you go to bed fine... and wake up injured'.
Stepped out of bed this morning and feel like my ankle is broken. How'd that happen?

Sand

2008-07-21T17:52:00.000-07:00

I have never, ever, in my entire life, stepped out on to sand that was as soft, spongy and inviting as the sand on the North Shore of Oahu. It cushioned my foot like nothing I've ever felt...

Hawai'i Time

2008-07-21T17:45:00.000-07:00

This one is going to be wholly too difficult to explain but I'm going to give it a shot. I spent the weekend on the island of Oahu. Technically I was there for 62 hrs. I arrived at 10pm Thursday night and I was gone by noon on Sunday. I worked all day Friday and spent Saturday having a look around the island and on both days I noticed something - time goes by very slowly in Hawai'i. Each passing hour seemed to feel like two. I stopped for lunch on Saturday because I felt like I'd been up for hours. I felt like I'd been driving for a while, it felt like I'd been on the go and it should have been lunchtime. I ordered a fabulous burrito at this place called Killer Taco's and it was delicious. Once I'd done I decided to head off and I checked my watch. It was only just after 11.

I drove around the island, almost twice and got back to the hotel and it was still only 4:30 in the afternoon. I still had time to go down to the beach and swim in the warm water...

I wonder if the speed limits have the effect of just slowing everything down? Who knows but I kind of liked it...

But when that alarm went off...

2008-07-18T20:27:00.001-07:00

... this was waiting behind the curtains.

For those that dare...

2008-07-18T20:02:00.001-07:00

So I arrived home from LA on Tuesday and by Thursday I was en route to the airport again. This time I was going to Hawai'i. Nice, everyone chorused. Of course, it is nice... but let me vent a little bit about traveling for work.

I arrived at the airport a little bit earlier than I would normally arrive because I had an errand to run which actually took less time than I estimated. All good, meant that I could eat lunch at the airport. I also noticed that my flight was delayed by 50mins. No big deal. So I had an eggs benedict which tasted of chemicals and nothing remotely of food.

The delayed flight was due off at 5:30 so we all clustered around the gate at about 4:45. The incoming plane arrived and disgorged it's people out in to the terminal. Then things all started going wrong. The words 'equipment failure' are never a good thing at an airport. It means the plane is defective and cannot fly. Now, of course, I'd rather they fix these things before I get onboard but they rarely seem to get an aircraft fixed that way. They said, somewhat ominously, 'we'll make a decision at 6'. Make a decision? What kind of decision?? "Yeah, the plane is defective but we're going to risk it"? Or maybe, "No, we can't fix it so we're cancelling the flight". All of these things are bad for your travel day. Turns out they decided to steal another plane. I had images in my head of United Airlines operatives walking around the airport slyly checking the handles on other aircraft. Maybe pulling off some hubcaps.

So, we took the plane that was supposed to be leaving after ours. They informed us that we couldn't use the bathroom on board before the plane hit 18,000ft so if we needed to pee we'd better get it done in the terminal building. Excellent. By 7pm my ass was numb from sitting on the floor. I went to get a sandwich. We finally boarded and got up in the air by 8pm. Three and a half hours late.

The original flight was due to get into to Honolulu at about 7pm and I was planning on meeting people for dinner. Of course now we were due in at 10pm. Bang goes dinner. Sat next to a very nice young lady on the flight, we moaned most of the way about the flight, the delay, the movie, the guy in front. Just about anything. She was en route back to see her husband after having been on the mainland for a few weeks.

Finally the plane touched down and we got off. It was humid and still hot even for 10pm. The baggage came out on two carousels at once - which make's it surprisingly hard to find your bag. And I made my weary way out to get my rental car. Bonus! Nice lady at Hertz upped me to a convertible Mustang. Headed out to find it and... it started raining. Paradise island. And it's raining. I'm starving. Ate the sandwich hours ago. Missed dinner. It's now 11pm but feels like 2am because, hey, it IS 2am in California. The only thing open near the airport is a McDonalds. So, of course, my first meal in the middle of the pacific is a Big Mac.

Then it's time to find the hotel. Let me tell you, Honolulu, big on one way systems. Took forever to find the hotel and it's now nearly midnight. I'm kinda stressed because I have no idea what time or where I need to meet my contact in the morning. I only know it's likely to be early. Sunrise type early. I need to get checked in and get to my room so that I can get online.

The guy at the check in desk says, 'Hmm... let's see if I can find a room for you Mr. Gisborne'. I nearly choked. Find? A room? I have a reservation! Apparently it's in the Hilton Hawaiian Village's habit to regularly overbook rooms. The guy said that they've been escorting people to other hotels. I tell him that that's not an option. He says, 'oh, I think I found a solution. You can stay in a room tonight but we'll have to move you tomorrow'. I tell him that's not an option either - I hate not being able to walk into my room and unpack and be done with it. He sees that I'm going to start losing my composure pretty soon and, oh look, he's found a room I can have for the three nights I'm here. Well done, chap.

After getting to the room, dropping my stuff, getting online, washing and all the other stuff I needed to do I put my head down on the pillow around 1am. 4am body time. My alarm went off 5hrs later...

So to all those that don't travel for a living, yes, sometimes, it's a wondrous thing and most of us would not swap it for a desk job somewhere. But, and here is the thing, it doesn't matter WHERE it is, when the traveling sucks, it sucks. Simple as that. And I notice no one bats an eyelid when I get on a plane for 4hrs and arrive in, oh, let's say Cleveland. (No offence to anyone in Cleveland). But when the destination is Hawai'i people are all over it... A rainy, all food options closed, night time late arrival is a rainy, all food options closed, night time late arrival no matter where it is.

Working on the book...

2008-07-15T00:17:00.000-07:00

Went out and shot some images for the book on Sunday. Came back and played around with them in Aperture. Also fiddled around with the new Silver Efex Pro plug in. This is an F-105 Thunderchief...

City of Angels VII (and final for this trip)

2008-07-14T23:46:00.000-07:00

So I've been in Hollyweird for a week now and I'm heading home tomorrow. It's been an interesting trip and I've met some cool people and seen some interesting stuff. And now I sit here in bed, eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, washed down with milk brought to me by room service - I love the fact that I just ordered from the 'little person' menu...

On Saturday night I pondered, as I drove, the weirdness of the blog entry I could have written that night. It would have gone something like this, indulge me, if you will...

"I finished the shoot down in Hollywood, headed for the hotel and cleaned up. I called down to the valet to bring the Mustang up and headed off for dinner. I drove down North Highland, turned right on Santa Monica Boulevard, left on La Brea and south towards Interstate 10. I took the 10 west towards Santa Monica and stayed on as the 10 became the 1, the Pacific Coast Highway. I carried on north until I got to Malibu and headed to Dukes. The valet caught my keys as I rushed in to meet my late dinner companions. We talked and talked. We ate and took pics of the baby I was meeting for the first time and then we took our leave back into the night.

I headed back down the 1 until the backed up traffic out of Santa Monica proved too much. As the traffic ground to a halt I decided to bail out, flipping one in the middle of the PCH and heading back up to the previous junction to take Sunset all the way into town. The windy road passed through Pacific Palisades, up through Brentwood, over the 405 and down into Bel Air. From there it winds past the Los Angeles Country Club, then into Beverly Hills - look, there's the Beverly Hills Hotel - and into West Hollywood. As the traffic piled up I drove slowly past all of the clubs, the hotels and restaurants on Sunset and finally ended up back at my hotel."

The thing that struck me is that sometimes I'm still the little boy from Nottingham. Still the 16 year old looking forward to Wednesday because that was the day my boss would ask me to accompany him to the bank up 'in town'. I'm still the young man waiting at the bus stop on a Friday night to take me home to my parents house years before I owned a car.

I realise that the Mustang isn't 'me' it's just the car Hertz gave me. I had dinner in Malibu because nor is Bel Air or Beverly Hills. I also realise that to some driving along Sunset Boulevard is no big deal but it'll be a sad day when it becomes no big deal to me...

City of Angels VI

2008-07-11T22:40:00.000-07:00

After a long day in the saddle - worked for around 14 hours today - the drive back still couldn't disappoint in throwing up some choice LA moments... As I drove up North Highland, fireworks erupted over in the distance, dead ahead. Then, as I approached my hotel, there was a whole block of billboards for the new Batman movie and, walking purposefully up the hill, right past them, was Superman. I kid you not.

City of Angels V

2008-07-10T22:34:00.000-07:00

As I drove back to the hotel on North Highland I saw Shrek walking somewhat dejectedly through the car park of Mel's Drive In...

On being not so trendy

2008-07-09T20:57:00.001-07:00

Nothing makes me feel more untrendy than being on set at 'fashion' or 'celebrity' shoots. On one right now, that has a large crew, multiple shooters and a lot of people around. Most of the wardrobe people were not born until the late 80's. Best line of the day, 'what's Knight Rider'.

Today made me feel old...

City of Angels IV

2008-07-09T20:40:00.000-07:00

A little more on the teen sensation that's sweeping the, er, Renaissance hotel corridors. I swear, it feels like I'm in a series of outtakes from Fame... each time I come out of an elevator there are girls spinning and whirling and busting out their moves. It's making me feel like an old man.

In the elevator tonight was a couple of girls, HUGE amount of make up and hair done to within an inch of it's life. Standing opposite, two french girls, about the same age looking... well, looking very french. Very demure. They stood and stared at the two dance girls like they were aliens from another planet. One turned to the other and said, 'some kind of sports outfit?'. The other said, 'dance, I think'. And then they carried on eating their M&M's.

To give you an idea of what I'm talking about, here is a video promo of the event.

It's all reminding me of when I stayed in a hotel in Stockholm during a hairdressing convention. See my profile picture for details on how much I know about hair...

Turndown Service

2008-07-09T09:33:00.000-07:00

Is it me, or is the idea of requesting a 'turndown service' the oddest thing. Going to all the effort to call the front desk to have someone come up and turn down the comforter on your bed? Wonder if I can get someone to come up and brush my teeth for me... maybe decide what I can wear in the morning...

City of Angels III

2008-07-08T19:57:00.000-07:00

Found out why all the teenage girls... some kinda dance competition happening in this here hotel. Takes forever to get anywhere in an elevator cuz of all the people riding from floor to floor seeing their mates, getting hair done, makeup, etc. etc... one or two scary looking 'dance parents' too.

City of Angels II

2008-07-08T10:43:00.000-07:00

Usually, when I stay in LA I stay at the smaller, trendier hotels like The Standard or The Roosevelt or even the W up in Westwood. I like 'em, in the main, except for The Standard's which are both just too loud to be really successful as hotels (doesn't anyone need a hotel to sleep in?).

This time I couldn't get in at the Roosevelt (which has become my latest favourite) so I'm at the Renaissance. First time I've stayed at one of the 'big' chain hotels around here. And it's kinda odd. It has everything I expect in a chain hotel but instead of being full of business people it's full of teenagers. Lots of them. No idea why. Just is.

This hotel is quiet though... slept like a crazy beast.

CIty of Angels

2008-07-08T10:38:00.000-07:00

Down in LA, currently. Never fails to amaze how odd this city is. Flew in to Burbank and drove my rented Mustang down to Culver City. Had lunch over in Santa Monica. Drove back to my hotel in Hollyweird. Fun driving down Hollywood Boulevard these days and counting the Capt. Jack Sparrows. Think I saw 6 yesterday. One of whom was making balloon animals.

So... a fair ground ride becomes a film, a character is inserted into the film, becomes popular, gets added to the fair ground ride, becomes main character of sequels... and now people dress like him for the tourists on Hollywood Boulevard. And make balloon animals.

Alcatraz

2008-07-07T18:01:00.000-07:00

Visited the island on Saturday. Cool place to visit. It was a hot sunny day which, to be honest, didn't really set the tone that I wanted from the place. I wanted fog and dark, foreboding clouds. But, we got sun...

We got chatting to a park warden there and he asked us if we'd like to see some other stuff. So off we went... we had a look at the higher cells, then up to the 'gun gallery' and then down into the citadel 'dungeons'. All very cool.

Sabre Rattling

2008-07-02T21:11:00.000-07:00

Thought I'd have a go at posting a picture. In fact I'm posting the full image from the banner at the top of the blog. This is one from the monochrome series I shot on Saturday at the Pacific Coast Air Museum. I shot this on a Nikon D2x. I also shot some film. Yes. Film. A roll of Ilford FP4 went sliding through my Hasselblad 500c/m. Now I just have to find somewhere to process it...

This is an F-86 Sabre, Korean War-era fighter in California Air National Guard markings

Perfect Climate

2008-07-02T21:03:00.000-07:00

One of the things that I've always felt about this area, the area that I currently call 'home' is the climate. I've been to quite a few different places on this planet but the climate here, I love it.

On summer days, like today, the morning starts crisp, cool and sunny. By lunchtime it's hot. Not unbearably hot but it's hot, hot like summer should be. The sun falls towards the pacific in the afternoon and heats up the air at the ground then, as the sky blue darkens to black, above my head, the air from the bay cools the evening. The breeze comes through our doors and windows and cools the house until bedtime comes and it's a treat to slide under the covers...

First (past the) post...

2008-07-02T12:28:00.000-07:00

Ok, so here it is, my first 'Blogger' post. I used to have a blog. But for some reason I just stopped writing it... and people drifted away. My posts were about my travels, about my life, just about anything and everything. I usually post some pics from here, there and everywhere too.

Let's see if I can do it again...

M