Christmas eve

Jump forward a few weeks.


It is Christmas eve in the Cotswolds.
It snows.
I woke early and left our cottage.
I made my way through the snow to the main strip of shops.
The shops were closed.
I waited until the butcher's shop opened.
I bought the first local pheasant for the day.
The butcher told me how to cook it.
I waited until the New England Coffee shop opened.
I got a coffee.
I sit in the coffee shop waiting for my family to pick up my call on Skype.
It's ten to eight at night at home.
They must be sitting around the Christmas tree.
Eating, drinking, cooking, singing.
I miss them.

There is a real buzz in the air.
Children dance in the street.
I dance in the street.
It's my first white Christmas.
I am so lucky.
Lucky to have my friends and my family at home.
Lucky to be here.
There is nothing else I want for Christmas.
I have everything.


Below is a collection of photos of some of my special people at home (besides Elly, she's with me, she's the one drinking on her hostel bed).

The Cliffs of Moher

In my opinion the most beautiful times of the day are sunrise and sunset. We set off on a race to make the Cliffs of Moher before sunset. Taking twice as long as expected we thankfully arrived just in time.

The day was blessed with perfection. All but my toes were merry. I stupidly left the hostel wearing only two pairs of socks, instead of the usual five pairs. We were standing 214 meters higher than the Atlantic ocean on the west coast of Ireland. I was quite concerned when a severe pain replaced all movement and feeling in my toes. On our way home I pondered that even if I lost one or a couple of toes on our race to the Cliffs of Moher at least their absence would trigger a beautiful day and a thrilling journey: 'toe/s lost winning a race to make the Cliffs of Moher before sunset'.

Luckily after close examination they were just stunned, numb... completely stagnate -
not by the view but by the chill.

for mr. old roads

Galway to the Cliffs of Moher.
A long windy road.

back seat view

Squeeze and go.

Besides being responsible for preparing lunch for the front seat passengers, travelling in the back seat of the car means I have more time to ponder and play with my camera. Here are a series of photos I took on our bumpy road trip to the Cliffs of Moher.

onion memories

View from the top of Blarney Castle

Despite being ill for most of our stay in Cork – I managed to (all on the same day) break my umbrella after impatiently trying to put it up, forget my camera battery at our hostel and spread my germs to a stone famously known as ‘Blarney’.

The stone of course belongs to Blarney Castle, situated 7km from Cork City. The Castle is mainly famous for its stone, which has the power of conferring eloquence on all who kiss it. To kiss it, one has to lean backwards (grasping an iron railing) from the parapet walk. To ensure our safety there were two men sitting by the edge to assist in lowering us to kiss the Stone. They had to hold our bodies as we leant backwards over the edge of the Castle - sounds slightly romantic; sadly it so wasn’t. Unfortunately (even with a congested nasal passage) I could smell the onion lunch leftovers on the bloke's breath - the one who was responsible for lowering me to the stone. In fact, I can still smell his reeking onion breath when I reminisce on my experience of kissing Blarney Stone.
Aside from that unpleasant encounter, it was such a lovely Castle.



Inside Blarney Castle

hostel happiness

You know you need to re-think your hygiene routine when… you find a hairball stuck inside your shirt. There is something more alarming when on closer inspection your little hairball surprise doesn’t match your own hair colour. I have red hair and the hair that I found was blonde.

Oh, The joy of hostels…

PS. I kindly navigated away from the ‘attach image’ option on this post.

simply sepia

Un petit collection of photographs taken on an occasion out in Cambridge with friends. We sat, we laughed, we drank and then we left - we had had enough.

To me, sepia setting captures and holds a feeling of warmth that the intrusive flash doesn't even notice.

My philosophy in searching for the simplicity continues.

'Truth is ever to be found in simplicity, and not in the multiplicity and confusion of things'.
- Sir Isaac Newton.

Like the satisfaction of making a cake from scratch, taking a photograph on film and riding a bicycle... there are no lies.