When Beatrix Potter adapted Aesop’s fable about the town mouse and the country mouse, in her picture book The Tale of Johnny Town-Mouse, she concluded that tastes differ. Some of us seem born to city life, others are happiest in the country. I fall firmly into the first group.
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In the ancient streets of Bukhara history weaves itself effortlessly around the present-day lives of its people. Here you get a real sense of continuity. The world of the Silk Road caravans isn’t preserved in the aspic of Khiva; nor tucked into islands among the modern-day bustle of Samarkand; it is an ever-present backdrop to daily life. To walk these streets, duck through the low arches of the caravanserai and trading domes, sit for a while over green tea by the pool of Lyab-i-Huaz; this is what people of this city have done for centuries.
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With the recent change in fortunes of our football team, Newcastle United, following the (some would say controversial) sale to rich owners, there is a sense of optimism among the Toon Army. And who are the Toon Army, you ask? They are the fans who follow the Toon (Geordie dialect for ‘town’) through thick and thin, good times and bad.
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There’s little I enjoy more when travelling than a visit to a local market. Large or small there is always plenty to see, and therefore to photograph. And you can gain great insights into the way of life in the country. What do local people eat? How do they dress? How indeed do they shop?
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If you have lived in a city for a long while, maybe all your life, you find yourself photographing its sights less and less, however lovely there may be. Do I really need another photo of the Tower of London? Of St Paul’s Cathedral? Of the river Thames?
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'Try to travel, otherwise you may become racist, and you may end up believing that your skin is the only one to be right' The above is the opening verse, in translation, of the song Viaggiate by Gio Evan, poet and songwriter. A friend posted it on Facebook and for me it sums up everything that is wonderful and important about travelling.
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Chowara is a small fishing community in Kerala. While tourism has come to the area, bringing visitors from elsewhere in India and further afield, it remains unspoiled and still focused on that traditional mainstay of its economy, the fish. Our hotel lay right next to the village, so it was easy one morning to forsake the lure of the pool and take a stroll with our cameras.
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Is there room in my blogging life for a new challenge? Possibly not, but when I came across Thursday Trios I was intrigued and decided to see what I could find in my photo archives. Today it is all about people. Finding them in groups of three isn’t always as easy as you might think. Couples are common of course, as are larger groups, but threes less so.
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Whether close to home or travelling further afield, one of my favourite subjects for photography is always the people I see. I recognise that some have concerns about candid street photography, and I understand those. But to me these photos of people living out their daily lives tell you so much about a place. On city streets or elsewhere, it’s the people that bring a place to life.
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Many people worry, unnecessarily, at the idea of visiting North Korea. Is it safe? Are the rules too strict? Will the food be tasty, and adequate? The latter question is perhaps understandable, given the well-documented periods of famine suffered in the country, but tourists, as honoured guests of the regime, have nothing to fear on that score.
