EXPERIMENTING WITH A TELEPHOTO ZOOM.

Like many other landscape and travel photographers I have long relied upon my wide angle zoom lenses for the majority, if not all my efforts to produce evocative images.  But as time marches on I have taken onboard the advice of many of my Youtube heroes and moved to try and get closer to the landscape and architecture.Compressing the subject from its background can change the look and feel of the final composition into something more interesting and most often perhaps even more pleasurable to the viewer.  I bounce around from system to system.  I am not a professional and that is easy to see.  What I am is someone that is always looking for a change.  

The change has to be for the better.  Now that does not mean that the change will provide me with newer or better equipment.  Sometimes for me a change of system might provide inspiration.  EVF's have become a tool I prefer and enjoy to use.  My sight is failing and I feel that an optical viewfinder does not help me where I need help.In the last 10 years I have used Nikon, Olympus, Leica, Sony, Fuji, back to Nikon and at the moment I am back again with Sony.  It appears that I am not what you would refer to as brand loyal.  I have had a camera in my hands or near by for the last 40 years and as such I have seen very big advancements in every aspect of the hobby.I am currently using a Sony A7II (because my III has been backordered for 2 months) and several Sony lenses.  

I can only hope that the A7III is as good as its hype. I am of the opinion that it must be getting all the accolades and winning over the photographic community for good reason.  My last camera was a Nikon D850 that I would have been still using today if I did not drop it onto concrete from a hight 3 months ago.  It is a magnificent camera capable of exceptional things.As you have read in other posts I can be prone to the odd ramble and as such I am gonna get back to the reason for this post.  I have fallen in love with the Sony FE 70-200mm F4.  I find that it renders beautiful images and is light and relatively compact enough to take very little space in a bag.  

I have used it in several locations both on and off tripod and I feel it is a gem.The colours it produces are accurate and I feel it is just as sharp as other more expensive offerings from both Sony and it's competitors.  I can't speak to the Sony 70-200mm F4 from a technical perspective as I'm not interested.  All I can tell you is that I love it.  I would not rely upon it indoors with the A7II but if the hype is real with III then maybe with enough ambient light and A7S II like high ISO, then maybe it may be ok then too.  What is important to know is that the image quality and sharpness is certainly good enough for me.  The lens is constructed very well and to a high standard in my humble opinion.So what I have left is to provide a gallery of images taken over the last month with the Sony combo.   Please leave your thoughts in the comments below.

Mont Blanc.

Ypres.

Ypres

Ypres

I LOVE GOOOOOLLLLLD

Before I stoop to another Goldmember quote, (the only Dutch movie character parody I’ve ever seen) I should catch you up on where we have been for the last few days. We pulled into Gent with all the best intentions to see one of Europe’s perfectly kept Cities.

Sadly our time in the otherwise quiet little hub was thrown to the wolves as we landed ourselves in town for Gentfest.Every Belgian from near and far had descended here to get down with any or every musical genre you could imagine. It was ok but not what we looking for. We split pretty quick (I am a poet and don’t even know it) and made our way to Ypres. Success and an absolutely A+ afternoon in a perfect place.

We wandered for hours until the internal clock told Alli it was time for moule’s et frites.We both opted for white wine sauce. Such a good evening at a top notch brasserie. Our waiter spoke only four languages fluently and he worked the terrace of 25 tables like a robot. Nobody had an empty glass. Nobody looked like they were wanting for anything.It makes you stop and ponder as to how 3 waitresses at the Penny Farthing Pub back home frequently allow three very well paying customers to remain as parched as a fly on a camels ass from arrival to departure.

That Belgian man was indeed a professional and I went as far to tell him so more than once. Sadly another saga nears its close and I currently sit on the 5th floor of our hotel peering towards the North runway of Schipol Airport. We have been in Amsterdam for 3 days now which has given us some time to live a little like the Dutch (sans the red light district nastiness or THC lollipop consumption).We have wandered the canals, seen Anne Frank’s home and even replaced a battery in an iPhone 6 at the Amsterdam Apple Store.

From the old to the new is all to be tried and tested here. It is a nation of giants. Seemingly all Dutch folks ride bikes or scooters like the cast of Mad Max. The first one with Mel Gibson, not that other shit. Amsterdam is a city that tolerates almost anything or anyone.To say this city is liberal in outlook would be a definite understatement. “And the sign says long haired freaky people must apply”. Almost everyone of our stops on this adventure have had a cafe culture.Amsterdam is certainly that way as well but on steroids.

You have two choices. You can tempt fait and risk your life with the cyclists and scooteratti coming at you on the sidewalk from all angles and directions or you can take one pace backwards and fear not as you fall into a chair of one of the 4000 cafes (according to trip advisor) that line the streets and canals. The public transit is top notch and almost Swiss in punctuality.

I keep wanting to speak ill of London’s Tube or Paris’s Metro in comparison but I have to put it into perspective. Amsterdam has a population of 900,000 and London and Paris are 10,657,000 and 2,241,000 in comparison. I couldn’t organize a cab journey for 5 so I better check myself before I wreck myself. Sadly its over.We are checked in online and we are bound for the airport in the morning to climb aboard our KLM flight for Seattle. Thanks to Deanna and Allistair for making this trip one never to forget.  Not too many husbands nowadays can say that they have celebrated a silver anniversary with their wonderful wife.  Love you buddy! Thanks to the guys at work for holding the fort while I gallivant.Next week I will be back with my nose to the grindstone and hoping to quickly get back in the groove. Until next time!I am truly grateful for the well over 14000 visitors to this site over the years.

Cheers...Mark

NO EMBELLISHMENT REQUIRED.

I left you last time from my lounge table at the Holiday Inn Express in Affoltern am Albis. This is a pretty little town just a little north of Lucerne. Our afternoon’s journey took us through valleys bordering the Alps and early in the evening we pulled in shattered from the drive and the heat. In Affoltern we checked in and I got the blog knocked out, finished my beer and got up to head to the elevator.

Just as I got to my feet I caught a glimpse. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Three tour buses pulling up in front of the hotel one after the other.Not only was this a bus tour Mecca, it was the same folks from Interlaken who we had dodged several hours earlier. I picked up my pace to try to get on the elevator (one only) before well over a 100 bus tourists were assigned their rooms from their yellow flag carrying cyborg leaders. Epic fail, too late.

The procession had begun. Deanna and I looked at our concierge with sad puppy dog eyes. He took pity on us and brought us into the back of house to use the staff elevator to the 6th floor. I felt like a rock star escaping a throng of rabid fans “out the back door of the theatre”. It’s good to be an IHG Spire customer as several of my brothers in arms know too well. The following morning the breakfast area was like feeding time at the zoo.

If you felt like taking your life in your hands now was the time to try and jockey for position at the trough. I could not understand the bus tour banter however I think they were enjoying shutting us out. We regrouped and waited for the surly drivers to arrive and bark loading times and other orders at the bus tourists. It did not seem to me that they liked their job by their tone and facial expressions.

What I did notice however is that these fellows were clearly not to be trifled with and they must be well known for driving off leaving tardy passengers behind on a regular basis. That all being said the breakfast room cleared out in seconds and calm was restored. Bliss! The following morning was spent in Laufenburg, Switzerland.  The place is spectacular.  The photos do not do it a quarter of the respect its owed.  

The remainder of our day was spent travelling through rural Switzerland and the black Forrest of Bavaria. We finally called it a day in Fruedenstadt, Germany. It was a treat to check in to our little Bavarian hotel and soon after we were into the middle of town and the Centrum platz. We made for the local Brau Haus and quickly got down to business with Pilsners and an unreal selection of pigs knuckle, sour kraut and schnitzel.

A wonderful meal served by typically grumpy fifty something ladies dressed in local garb (use your imagination). Dinner was fantastic but Allistair was a little put out by the amount of Kirsht in his Black Forrest Sundae. Life is hard for teenagers! Back to the hotel and soon to sleep. We woke not too long after and joined our fellow guests for a wonderful breakfast and then packed the car for our journey north. We set the GPS for Wetzlar just past Frankfurt. Wetzlar is home to Leica camera. It’s factory and world HQ. I have been a devoted fan of Leica cameras since photography became a hobby. Their history is long and colourful. Without Leica we would not have enjoyed so many of the photographs we call iconic today. Leica have provided tools for the best and brightest photographers to capture & catalogue history. We enjoyed coffee and cake at the Leica cafe’ to begin with then moved on to the exhibit centre, gallery and store. I have been lucky to own a Leica in the past but not recently and today makes me lust after one now even more.

From Wetzlar we moved onto Ghent in Belgium this afternoon. The autobahn and an average speed of 175 kmh helped with our arrival time but not my nerves. You think you are Sebastian Vettel as you rocket along, but furious Germans are on your bumper flicking their high beams incessantly so that you get out of their way. You think you’re fast, they go much much faster. Germany’s roads are scary but please go anyway, we met some lovely Syrian dial-a-dopers (economic migrants doing well, you might say) last night after dark in the platz. 

I call them as I sees them and these telephone based narcotic delivery specialists were doing quite well for themselves by the look of their bling, several burner phones and shiny new Nike Shox (prison shoes in Canada).  Anyway, we are here and resting before we spend the next couple of days wandering Ghent prior to moving on to conclude our trip in Amsterdam.

I leave you with this. Don’t bus tour. It really looks like the most miserable of times! And what do you see? You see what others tell you to see and then you wage war with your new friends (you never wanted) at the buffet every morning and night until its all gone and so is your will to live.  It sounds shit cause it is shit.

Live well!

BIG DAY, THE TOUR AND MONT BLANC.

It has been a whirlwind of a couple of days.  Yesterday with heavy hearts we bid farewell to Bonnieux and our ages old stone cottage.  Provence was phenomenal and didn’t disappoint for weather, beauty or tranquility.  We set sail for Albertville in Northeast France as the tour was  to kick off at noon.  We made good time and as a result we learned a few things being considerably early.

First, the early bird gets the worm.  By worm I mean it gets pelted with freebies from the dozens of sponsormobiles.  Each sponsor has worker-bees who are roped on to the back of their vehicles in precarious positions so that they can throw anything from tiny sausages to lanyards to hats (got one) to the thousands of totally committed fans that line the route.It took 3x longer for the sponsor peloton to go by than the actual peloton 2 hours later (spoiler alert).  

But when the real peloton comes by it is quite something I must admit.  It is another bucket list’r checked off.  I’ll say it again, quite something.  When you have seen the last rider go by you actually feel a bit of an adrenaline dump.I can’t say for sure that I even caught a glimpse of the maillot jaune but that’s ok.  It was an awesome afternoon where we were right there on the side of the road.  

For countless years every  July we have have eaten our family dinner on our laps in front of the TV watching the tour from home in Victoria. The scenery, the spectacular racing, the controversy (thanks Lance).We moved on from Albertville to Chamonix to catch a glimpse of Mont Blanc.  As a kid I was completely consumed by the extreme ski films made by Warren Miller.  Chamonix was always a location for some of Warren’s best skiers to do what they do in order to thrill every ticket paying movie goer.So it all came together.  

I got there (in the wrong season mind you) and it is beautiful.  To see Mont Blanc there in all its glory was just a bit over the top.  The glacier falls away from the summit and the ice is a beautiful bright blue.Today we drove to Interlaken in Switzerland and I was not shocked to see the dozens of tour buses near the railroad station (there wasn’t a Swiss person to be seen).  

We set the GPS for a restaurant high atop the town at quite an elevation. [wpvideo wlLTPHlB]The Eiger stands proud nearby and we were entertained by the view from table.  Like it was on cue, dozens of parasailors fell from the sky above us and disappeared below to the valley floor. Tomorrow we hope to up our game and head towards the Black Forrest in Bavaria.

Hop Suisse!

Mark…

FRANCE WINS!

I’m not upset nor am I excited.The 2018 World Cup is in the books and France won 4-2 in impressive fashion. The streets of every city, town and village are absolutely crazy. Tens of millions have left their homes and cafe’s and taken to open spaces to wave flags, let off blue smoke and do donuts with cars, trucks and scooters. Life for a Frenchman ce’ coir is a thing of beauty. There are screams, smiles and tears (of joy).We are blessed to be here today of all days. If things work out this wont be the only sporting spectacle that we experience on this trip. In several days we will be at the base of alpe d’huez for a stage of the Tour de France and a couple days later in Monaco for a Diamond League Track meet. Yesterday took us to a neighbouring town nicknamed the Venice of France.

What other than two person gondola racing was on the cards.Yes there were chills, thrills and spills.There were those who tripped and fell as they forged the man made rock waterfalls.There were also those who took so much water on board they spent more time trying to right their boats than race them. This was such a pretty place and so well attended by locals. It was cool to see racers cheered on by family and friends alike.After the festivities we wandered for hours through the narrow streets and over the bridges of the many canals.

We ate at home last night.A meal comprised of Toulouse sausages and Provençal potatoes.It was a wonderful night accompanied by several glasses of Luberon Rose’. This morning took Alli and I back to the tennis club for another hour or so of rallying in the early sun. As per the norm these days we finish at the club then relocate to the local boulangerie for pain au chocolate and some strong coffee. Deanna joined us and we took our time enjoying the atmosphere while reading the paper.

Once we readied ourself for the day ahead, I flashed up the car and we drove off to the east via a route we have never taken before.Sometimes fortune favours the brave and this morning it took quite some nerve to venture down these one lane roads dotted with oncoming traffic. There were moments when cars, buses and tractors approached when my heart stopped and then once we crossed each other’s path unscathed it began to beat again.Success, we lived to tell the story (literally) and my heart got several opportunities to jump start itself.

I hope that this becomes its strong suit if I continue to mainline Rochefort cheese.So there we were in Saignon.Another wonderful hill town completely surrounded by lavender fields and honey farms.This hilltop village was a pleasure to experience. We peered in real estate agent’s windows all the while dreaming of the lotto 649 win we don’t deserve but would graciously accept regardless. I leave you as I continue well into the third straight hour of TV reporters being mobbed by French fans as they venture through the crowded streets of Paris. The Arch de Triumph has never looked better.

Fortis Fortuna adiuvat & Vive la France!

Mark…

THE WORLD’S LONGEST POSTCARD.

Before I crack on with today’s nonsense I hope that every reader understands that this word jumble is my therapy.  I am not a writer.  I wish I had the talent that my friend Daryl has.  He has more writing ability in his little finger than I do in every obtuse lump of me.  When considering today’s title I mused over several possibilities. The first was kitschy, something Provençal perhaps?Then I thought maybe something about the continued scorching hot weather. Of course there could have been some self deprecating quote to do with England loosing to the Croatians in the semi’s.

You know something like how to blow a lead and the World Cup in one simple move. When all was considered I concluded that anyone with the intestinal fortitude to take on reading this epic instalment should be forewarned that it will have a ton of photos and may go on much longer than the average self harmer might want to endure. Since the last time I collected my thoughts on paper we have done so much and seen so many places. We have wandered the ramparts and halls of the Papal Palace in Avignon.We have slowly meandered through countless hilltop villages stopping to peer inside shops, galleries and cafes.We have shopped till we dropped in Aix-en-Provence.In between shops we were able to find our way into the Cezanne and Picasso exhibition at the Aix Art Gallery.

Today we left somewhat later than we usually do from home base in Bonnieux and drove to Mennerbes and on through Lumierre to Goult.I have to jump on the sword now and retract my earlier comments stating that Cucuron is the merde’! Goult is now the front runner in the my top Provençal Village ever award.Gordes is spectacular, Lacoste is pretty and filled with Artists in training as they summer at the Savannah College of Art situated below the Chateau. Apparently Pierre Cardin is the benefactor of the village and art school and you can tell as this place drips with style and design.I could go on and on about the veritable cornucopia of little places we have rambled about but at this stage you clearly have got the point.I love France.I love the food. I love the wine.I love that you can't get food or gas or anything for that matter on national holidays and Sundays.I like the style.I like the design.I like the land and the interminable sense of slow and easy.For Christ sake, I even like the little buck o’ five Frenchmen that put out a smoke only to role another and light it immediately. Of course the biggest question of the day is who do I cheer for on Sunday when we once again walk down to our neighbourhood cafe to watch the outdoor 75” flat screen.Ok, I am saying this once and only once.I am cheering for France.Those cheating diving Croatian’s do not deserve the win.

They did not beat England the night before last.They assaulted them.I routinely starred into the eyes of the psycho looking ref on numerous occasions expecting a card.Nothing.Abominable. I have never once in 52 years of watching the soccer or Rugby ever uttered the words "Allez Les Bleu”. But here goes.This Sunday that is all gonna change for one and only one time ever.I swear on my English Rose tattoo (if I had one).Tomorrow is Bastille Day and as such we can expect all kinds of pomp and circumstance. The French are a proud nation. I tip my hat to them. I would trade every member of the Trudeau family (past and present) for one de Gaulle.

Allez Les Bleu!

38 DEGREES IN THE SHADE.

An average July Sunday in Provence is slightly warmer than I can stand. I seem to spend more time looking for respite from the nuclear sun than I do anything else. Whatcha gonna do. This is what we bargained for many months ago when we began our planning. It was always going to be Provence but the specifics came later as we scoured Airbnb for options in more than a dozen towns both in the valley and on the hillsides.

After lunch we fired up Sven, cranked the air con and set sale for Chateau Conorgue winery. CC was used as the main set for the movie and as I learned on a previous visit a couple of years ago, had a lovely vintner with lovely wine. Upon arrival we were provided several wonderful vintages to sample and then chose a few bottles to take away with us after the obligatory wander around the gardens. The following day was about venturing a little further afield to Apt which is around 12 kms away to the northeast. We had a brief look about & visited the local supermarche’. We hustled back to Bonnieux to get squared away in time to find an outdoor terrace bar in the village that would hopefully be showing the England Sweden game at 4 o’clock.Success, and a table pour 3 was in a perfect location for the 75” flatscreen hanging from the outside wall. We sat next to a Swedish couple and their young daughter. Being Swedish meant they were all beautiful people. The remainder of the crowd was made up of French locals that spread hate towards the English between cigarettes and Belgians that sat there with their best smug faces.The remainder were sunburned English twats with poncey public school accents screaming at the TV in hopes that Gareth Southgate would hear their requests to get Sterling off and Rashford on.

If those accents were Mancunian or Brummie or even Scoucers I maybe could have accepted their pleas for change. Oh yeah, the most important part is that England were up 2-0 so whats the problem Rupert. If there is a god I will someday find my way to their local polo field or fox hunt so that I may heckle the shit out of them. Today found us on a slow paced drive through countryside with stops in Cucuron and Loumerin. Both lovely and both drop dead gorgeous. We had lunch at L’etang in Cucuron and enjoyed a fabulous meal. Even Allistair had his first foray into true French cuisine with steak tartare avec raw oeuff.

Ces’t Bon!

WE HAVE ALL SEEN THINGS.

CC1C5D9D-55F0-44DB-BC41-43E26877ECDD

Most mornings I wake to ponder the day ahead and think to myself nothing will happen that I have not seen at some point before. Most often that statement rings true, however a couple of days ago as I stood in line at TSA pre screening in SEATAC airport I saw something I had never ever seen in the past. There stood a man two in front of me with a form of carry-on luggage of which the likes was unique to say the very least. This man who I will refer to hence forth as Cleatus stood well over six feet and was attired in contrasting plaid and camouflage. His singular proud tooth could be seen from space as it jutted at a right angle from his slack jawed mouth.Cleatus stood shouldering an overstuffed pillow case with what a young man about his local area would need for a holiday away.

I only know this because Cleatus’s pillow case had seen better days and was quite near the point of translucence.I am quite sure that this may have also been a first for TSA as well because Officer Yolanda was a little put out by the contents of the pillow case that had fallen out as it made it's way through the x-ray machine. I had forgot to mention earlier that Cleatus did not have any string around the top of his case to keep it closed in transit. In fact, I have to think that this may have been the first time Cletus may have ever been in transit.Some minutes later Cleatus left on his way and we had gone on ours. We arrived at Gate S8 in time to board our Delta Flight to Amsterdam. I usually have no trouble finding several humorous tid bits to comment on when flying transatlantically. I am happy (or am I?) to report that this journey was without folly.

Our on board staff were crackerjack and our seats were comfortable. Our menu was fabulous and the choices were grand. This is the first time I have flown internationally with Delta and I am very happy to say I hope it is not my last. The service and attention to detail is excellent. I suppose I could natter on about the 60 something couple in front of us.  I would have happily spent time in a Turkish prison to cheerfully murder both for their in-flight antics but that is a whole other story and I want to keep this one slanted towards puppies, cotton candy and unicorns.

We landed in Holland nine and half hours later feeling good and ready to attack the day. Our first stop was at Enterprise to pick up our rental for the next month and we sat second in line for service. As luck would have it our attendant from Ghana as I would later find out was named Godwin. Godwin was happy and smiley and I liked him immediately. As we all know Godwin was about to fleece the shit out of me in the upsell game. Sure we booked with Costco Travel and as such got a smoking price on a Fiat Panda “or similar”. Now, as per usual the “or similar” was considerably smaller than a Panda and Godwin warned us about the cramped quarters and restrictive space for our luggage thank god.Just ten minutes later, under a Ghanaian voodoo spell we left Schipol Airport.  I am at the wheel of a brand new Volvo XC60 with only 1100 km on it and we were rocketing south of Amsterdam with Antwerp in our sights (what do I know about Diamonds) & Godwin saved the day.

Several hours later and we found our way to Passendale in southern Belgium. This town holds a special place in my heart. I recently watched my eldest son parade here with the contingent of Canadian soldiers paying their respects to those who fought before them. The picture above is a part of a memorial commemorating 100 years since those brave Canadian lads pushed forward from the area of that gate to the church in the distance. 16000 Canadian casualties and ten days of wading in waiste deep mud to capture the town. Canada should always remember the bravery and sheer determination of our military heroes.   Today our pathetic prime minister minimizes spending on our military and wastes those dearly needed funds on legalizing marijuana. So there you have it. A PM who wishes for Canadians to have unfettered access to hallucinogenic drugs. So god help us.  Bust out the Oreos Mr PM, you can watch our military do their duty with vintage equipment safely from 24 Sussex after an epic game of C.O.D. and a Rebagliati .

Later we went to Vimy in France. Allistair and Deanna were filled with Canadian WWI history and we were comfortably checked in to our hotel in Amiens.  Timing is everything and in this case as we flopped into bed the TV went on and there was England trying desperately to clutch defeat from the jaws of victory as Columbia netted one in injury time to tie it up 1-1. Certain things are like death and taxes and one of those is England losing games on penalty kicks. Surprise, shock, awe etc etc.

Jordan Pickford stood on his head and as the The Sun Newspaper quoted in its next days front page headline, “The hand of Jord” saved the day and England lives on to meet Sweden in the quarter final.The following morning in Amiens our breakfast was lovely and we bid farewell to our comfortable beds and our pleasant hoteliers as we boarded Sven and drove southwest to Juno Beach and the Canadian Exhibit. I have been interested in the D-Day landings since learning of them as a lad. I have had the pleasure of visiting Dunkirk but this was the first time I had been lucky enough to visit the area Canadian soldiers fought bravely to liberate on that fateful day. We wandered the museum and took in two films based on the experience to later stroll the beach itself. It is truly an ominous feeling to walk along the beach in the Canadian soldiers footsteps. 

We left Juno the richer for the experience and set our sights for Provence and our ultimate destination. We were never going to make the whole journey in one go, so around mid afternoon Allistair  started to work the Hotels.com app for places along our route that were affordable and quiet.We were not disappointed but our hosts were truly surprised as I ran from our car in a deluge that I have never experienced the likes of before. The rain hurt it was coming down so hard. I got to the door and I was met by a couple that have recently opened their 300 year old farmhouse on 4 hectares to guests. They were a young Dutch couple with two kids that we later learned over Heineken had moved to Normandy to escape the rat race in Holland. We sat at their kitchen table and chatted until midnight as we learned about the area and they learned about Vancouver Island. We slept like babies and woke to the smell of fresh baked bread and croissants with pots of apricot and lavender jam.

Thanks Hotels.com!

Thanks Le Rianon

www.gites.fr/gites_le-rianon_malleret-boussac_h907134.htm

Back in Sven around 9 and we drove 5 Kms to Boussac to fill his tank and to wander about on market day. An awesome morning and then we settled into our drive south to Bonnieux in the Luberon valley of Provence. The weather has averaged 35c since our arrival and we are happily tucked away in a beautiful French Provençal home for the next two weeks. Thanks AirBnB! We are now temporary members of the local Tennis Club and can’t  wait to make ourselves more at home.Thanks so much Godwin. You are a star. Stand by for more adventure...  

TRAVEL APPS, I USE THEM!

I HAVE BECOME QUITE DEPENDANT ON TRAVEL APPS.

It has been ages since I have travelled anywhere without turning to several of my favourite travel apps for advice or help for one thing or another.  Far be it from me to try to convince anyone that I am tech savvy or anything even closely resembling a beard wearing hipster.  Sure, I may be typing on a MacBook Pro.  I might be staring down my second pour over and fantasizing over my next microbrew from some plaid wearing "expert's" growler in Portland Ore.  But that does not make me one of them.I am 51 years of age.  I couldn't muster the energy to grow a beard or have my hair cut "faded" close to the skin twice weekly for all the gourmet fair trade coffee in Brooklyn.

Allow me to get to the meat on the bone.  I have developed somewhat of a process when I choose a destination.  I first turn to TripAdvisor.  I like trip advisor for several reasons.  If I am looking for the most important things to see and do, I scour TA.  If I have an area in mind and a few hotels that might fit the bill, I turn to TA for honest reviews.One mustn't always make hotel choices by TA alone.  There are several other ways to limit ones exposure to an uncomfortable night in a poorly run hotel or B&B.  When I am looking for accommodation I first look for price.  If I wish to travel often on my own I have to try to do it in a somewhat frugal yet never stingy way.  

My go-to best price Apps are Hotwire, Hotels.com, Priceline, Hotel Tonight, and often times AirBnB.As many folks well know, Hotwire and Priceline require a gamblers spirit.  You commit to a limit and both will tell you where you will be saying without very little other input from you.  I have come to really like Hotels.com.  I have stayed in several gems as a result on a very economical budget.  AirBnB is also fantastic.  Our last trip to Paris was an outstanding affair as a result of a small but clean and well situated apartment in the 18th.When it comes to travel I turn to Skiplagged for international flights.  

As I typically start my journeys on the west coast of Canada I find Skiplagged to be the best at hunting high and low for great prices.  I also head over to Chris Marden's site at YVRdeals.com  Chris has some epic deals.  I also use the regular sites at Air Canada, British Airways and as a last ditch try, AirTransat.com.Once I reach a hub airport city such as London, Amsterdam, or Paris I turn to Easyjet, Jet2, or Ryanair.  All have good apps.  I prefer Easyjet, but thats not to mean it s the best of the bunch in the air.  All that said they are my favourite.  When it comes to european travel I always look to use my time to expand my horizon's and mind.  With that I try to visit as many museums, galleries and important landmarks as possible.  

As most of you are already aware when you arrive at these locations you pay your admission fee and at that time you are offered an audio tour at extra expense.  I turn to Rick Steves.  Rick has downloadable podcast tours for nearly all the major important sites.  They are free and excellent.These are just a year few of my favourites.  I use them to prepare for every trip.  As long as I am prepared I am satisfied.  I tend to remain away from technology during a day of travel.  I enjoy talking to and learning from the locals and other visitors.  Its easy to strike up conversations if you remain humble and well mannered.  If you have other favourites that I haven't mentioned please send me a note in the comments section.

Cheers and Walk Across It All.

OXFORD AND A BIT FROM YESTERDAY

As we pull slowly away from the railway station where the famous bear took it's name, I am shocked to see beautiful blue skies once again. Paddington station is busy this morning. Our 9:50 to Oxford is jammed to the rafters. I hope that as we stop in Slough and Reading that many of these passengers will be ending their journeys just so we can recoup some of the space to sit and enjoy the scenery. Paddington Railway Station is a hub and trains heading north and west begin and end their journeys here. We are headed to see the dreaming spires of Oxford this morning.

Not only is this city considered one of, if not the top academic institution in the world it is also unbelievably scenic. Oxford's academic history is long and prestigious.If you will indulge me for a moment I will catch up a little from yesterday. Yesterday was day two in Belfast and with 10 or so hours to see as much as we could, we hopped in the knee jammer (Peugeot) and got out and about. After many assurances from locals, trip advisor and the news paper we decided to go directly to the "Crum" first. The "Crum" is to Belfastonians, the county gaol. The prison held both members of both paramilitary organizations as well as "ODC'S".

Ordinary decent criminals, men women and children as young as 10 were held at the Crumlin Road Gaol for everything from theft to murder. As many as 20 hangings were carried out on condemned inmates over the years, most of which were at the hands of a family of executioners from England known as the Pierrepointes. Albert the father and his two sons made a career out of ending condemned prisoners careers.  Five minutes after the prisoner had finished breakfast they were whisked from their seat to the noose two rooms over through a false door.The prisoner would hang for as long as it took for the observers to see no signs of life, then he would be placed in a coffin, covered in lime and buried in an unmarked grave.

The inquest would held by noon.  The executioner would have to pay his shilling fine to the county high sheriff for killing a man (weird tradition) and would be back on a ferry to Liverpool by 10.Our tour was an hour and a half and it went by in what seemed like seconds. We left there bound for East Belfast and with that came a noticeable presence of Ulster loyalists. This was not a Republican / Catholic friendly place. We continued east up to Stormont Castle to visit the pristine grounds of the Northern Ireland National Assembly. This place is picture perfect and a must visit if you are in NI.In an effort to get the car back on time we headed northeast to Antrim and had a  sit down and a pint of the blackness at Madden's Bar on the town high street.

Antrim Castle stood at the north end of the street. Memorials to fallen soldiers from both world wars where placed nearby. A smaller yet equally as important stone sat against the Castle wall inscribed with the names of two soldiers from the Royal Engineers.  These boys had been murdered by terrorists in cold blood on the streets of Antrim less than just 6 years ago. The reality of this place bites again. It's pretty on the outside but twisted and dark on the inside.Well back to today and as hoped, ¾ 's of our train piled out at Slough and as we near Reading most of the remainder are leaving as well. This is a good thing. So now I am going to turn my attention to the Oxfordshire countryside and the beauty it exudes. 

This place is a landscape painters nirvana.It's 7:00 in the evening and our train is just pulling out of Reading heading back towards London. We left Oxford 30 minutes ago and the train is full again. Today was a good day by any measure. Many of the colleges were open to visitors so we took advantage of that and visited Balliol, Wadham, Jesus and New College to name but a few. We climbed to the top of the Sheldonian lecture theatre which provided stunning 360 degree views of the city and its spires that seem to reach for the sky.We visited the Bodleian library, the Ashmolean museum and the Oxford Press. All of these institutions are built on hundreds of years of Academic standards and traditions. I am considering the tourist part of today to be exceptional. The Ashmolean for instance may have my vote as one of the top three museums in the world.Our other stops of the day were some extremely old and sensational pubs in the city.

Today we tipped a pint or cup of tea in the White Horse (haunts of Winston Churchill and later Bill Clinton), the Bear Inn (900 years old), the Eagle & Child (local meeting place of C.S. Lewis and Tolkien) and the Old Book Binders (beautiful Jericho pub near the canal).The college chapels were breathtaking and the grounds found both inside and outside the college quadrangle were meticulously maintained. This place stuns you at every turn. Whether you walk under the Oxford "bridge of sighs" or visit the Radcliffe Camera you are relentlessly convinced that those who study here are special.Why didn't I place more emphasis on my formative education? Why didn't I strive for higher grades when I had the opportunity? I have no doubt that the students who attend college here in Oxford know they are privileged but I am also sure that they earned this opportunity by working very very hard and even harder to remain a pupil throughout their years in residence.

As we hurtle down the track back towards Paddington Station, the sun setting in the west is an absolutely and abnormally huge orange fiery orb.  It reminds me of a poem that I have always associated to Oxford by A.E. Houseman.

How clear, how lovely bright, How beautiful to sight Those beams of morning play; How heaven laughs out with glee. Where, like a bird set free,Up from the eastern sea Soars the delightful day. To-day I shall be strong,No more shall yield to wrong, Shall squander life no more; Days lost, I know not how,I shall retrieve them now; Now I shall keep the vowI never kept before. Ensanguining the skiesHow heavily it diesInto the west away; Past touch and sight and soundNot further to be found, How hopeless under groundFalls the remorseful day.

Cheerio!

Mark

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SOMEONE HAS TO DO IT

When it comes to planning, one should always find a location that suits the needs of the planners. On Wednesday what suited us was a local brew pub that has been well thought of for many years. We arrived at Spinnaker's with a lot to do and the need to be refreshed while doing it.Our server was prompt and the order went in without much chatter. Soon after, we were basking in the glow of the amber nectar and turning our mind to contacting more B&B's and hotels to accommodate our weary feet on our epic journey. We sent out a bunch more emails and then turned our focus to rental cars, train tickets and best of all tickets for as many matches at the Rugby World Cup as we can reasonably afford. Lots of web surfing later we were closer to the goal for the evening. The rugby tickets were going on sale again on Friday morning so I would focus on being successful on the day! This is going to be awesome. This trip cannot come soon enough.