IT’S TIME FOR REFLECTION WITH THE LEICA SL2-S

As I sit here, poised to retire for the second time – a feat so unforeseeable I might just invent an award for it – I can't help but reflect on the peculiar charm of stepping away from the familiar. It's a bit like leaving a party while still having a good time, only to realize you've forgotten how to use the front door and end up wandering into a surprise adventure, possibly involving wine, cheese, and the Renault of my dreams. That's retirement for you, or at least the version I'm embarking on.

You see, knowing when to move on is a bit like understanding the British weather – it's unpredictable, occasionally dampening, but always a good excuse for a cup of tea and some quiet reflection. Retirement, in this sense, is not an ending but a hearty nudge towards new, mind-expanding endeavors. For me, these endeavors involve venturing into lands where the language sounds like an exotic dish I'd be too scared to order, and customs that seem as baffling as completing “WORDLE” in Swahili.

Why, you might ask, would one willingly step away from the comfort of the known into the labyrinth of the unfamiliar? Well, for the same reason, you might choose to wear mismatched socks – for the sheer thrill of it. In my case, the thrill is supplemented by my trusty cameras, my silent companions in this journey of discovery. Wandering with them is more than a hobby; it's a sort of medicine, a remedy for the mundane, a way to see the world not just in colors and shapes but in stories and whispers.

These cameras have seen more than most eyes do – they've captured smiles in hidden alleyways, sunsets that argue with the horizon, and cats with questionable intentions. They're not just lenses and shutters; they're my passport to the unexplored, my ticket to a show where every act is a surprise.

And let's not forget the potent medicine of change and reflection. Change, after all, is the universe's way of nudging us out of complacency. It's like a friend who insists you try escargot for the first time, and before you know it, you're wondering how you ever lived without it. Reflection, on the other hand, is the quiet conversation you have with yourself afterward, possibly over a glass of something peaty, pondering the peculiar yet delightful path you've stumbled upon.

So, as I embark on this new chapter, camera in hand, ready to misunderstand foreign languages and misinterpret local customs, I do so with a heart full of anticipation. I may not know what adventures await, but I'm certain of one thing – they'll make for one heck of a story, possibly involving a lost map and a serendipitous encounter with a wise, yet slightly intoxicated, local sage.

In conclusion, retirement, or rather re-adventurement, as I prefer to call it, is not just about leaving something behind. It's about embracing the unfamiliar, finding joy in the perplexing, and capturing it all through the lens of experience – both literal and metaphorical. And if that isn't a recipe for a life well-lived, I don't know what is.

As usual, your thoughts and comments are always welcome.

Live Well!

M.

P.S. All images were captured with a Leica SL2-S and a 41-year-old adapted Nikon vintage zoom lens.

Wandering Nice with my Leica Q2: Stories in Every Frame

When people think of France, Paris often steals the spotlight. But for those in the know, Nice, nestled on the stunning French Riviera, is a gem waiting to be discovered. And what better companion to have on this adventure than my trusty little travel camera (Leica Q2)?

Before diving into the wonders of Nice, I must mention my trusty travel companion. The Leica Q2. This camera is akin to a magic wand, encompassing immense power in a sleek design. Its intuitive nature made capturing moments on the go feel seamless. The Q2 was a silent observer, capturing the essence of Nice without intruding upon its natural rhythm. I have several other camera choices, but when I want to move about without drawing attention to myself with a camera that has the capability to capture images from 28mm to 75mm in a small package, the Q2 is the obvious choice.

Nice: A Palette of Pastel Dreams. The city itself seemed to be painted with a dreamy brush, often awash in pastel colours. Pastel-pink façades juxtaposed against soft lavender skies and streets lined with sun-bleached yellow buildings felt like walking through an artist's masterpiece. The sun setting over Nice transformed the city, with coral oranges and muted purples reflecting off windows and the serene waters. Every nook and cranny whispered stories, and the Leica Q2 ensured each tale was told in its full pastel glory.

A Dive into Gatorade Blue. Beyond the shores, the Mediterranean beckoned with its alluring shade of blue – reminiscent of a fresh bottle of Gatorade. This vibrant blue seemed unreal, almost like the sea had absorbed the very essence of the sky. Diving in, I felt enveloped by this refreshing hue, and above, the sun created a dappled dance of light on the water's surface. It wasn't just about swimming; it was about immersing oneself in a liquid canvas, and the Leica was there to chronicle every splash, every ripple.

Faces of Nice: Meeting a Legionnaire. Nice is teeming with life and characters. People who have seen seasons change, who have tales hidden behind every smile, every wrinkle. And sometimes, as a photographer, you chance upon someone who makes you stop and wonder. I came across a gentleman one morning on the Promenade des Anglais, a striking figure in a sea of tourists. Dressed impeccably, his demeanour hinted at a past full of discipline and pride. The sharpness of his attire contrasted with the weathered lines on his face, and I couldn’t resist capturing him in a frame. Later, curiosity got the better of me, and I returned the following morning, hoping he would be there. I felt compelled to introduce myself and hopefully learn a little about the man who stood out from the crowd. As we spoke, I learned a little bit about his military service. Though he was guarded about the specifics, his posture and pride hinted at a possible association with the French Foreign Legion. The Legion! A group shrouded in mystery and romanticism. I couldn't help but consider his evident battle scars with the tales of valour and romance that have surrounded the Legion for years. Perhaps I have come closest to meeting a real-life Beau Geste.

Nice through the Lens of my Leica Q2. In Nice, the interplay of light, people, and architecture creates a canvas that changes with the moments, and my Q2 was there to ensure I didn’t miss a single image. Its ability to render colours, from the azure blues seas to the pastel shades of Nice’s streets, was consistently astounding. And if you're like me, wanting to immortalize those moments, there's no better tool for the job than a camera like the Leica Q2. For in the end, travel is as much about the stories we bring back as it is about the places we visit.

Nice is the definition of a beautiful and opulent colour palette. My hope is that these qualities will someday attract you to visit the French Riviera. I am personally most happy when I wander from place to place with my favourite travel camera. Nice is one of those very few destinations that ensures that my Leica Q2 will never be called upon to capture a monochrome image.

Thanks for dropping by Walkacrossitall! I am always grateful for you sharing your precious time.

Live Well!

Mark