Strolling through Pamplona with Hemingway's Ghost"
Hola, Amigos and photo enthusiasts. This week, we're taking a leisurely saunter through Pamplona, Spain - a city so steeped in history, charm, and adrenaline that even Ernest Hemingway couldn't resist its call. If you have followed along on these journeys for some time you will recall my fascination for E.H. So much so that I made Harry’s Bar in Venice more important to visit than Venice itself. So, now grab your red bandana, channel your inner matador, and let's follow in Papa's footsteps as we explore this captivating city.
Pamplona is famous for its annual Running of the Bulls, the San Fermín Festival. But, let's put a twist on it: what if we walked the route instead? With spring's delicate touch in the air, We found ourselves meandering along the narrow, cobblestone streets, retracing the path typically thundered upon by hooves and pounding hearts. As the crisp morning air brushed our cheeks, We couldn't help but wonder if Hemingway, too, had once walked this path, his pen itching to immortalize the wild energy of this ancient tradition.
As we strolled along, we could almost hear the echoes of Hemingway's typewriter clacking away, his tales of Pamplona inspiring readers for generations. "The Sun Also Rises," the novel that etched the city into literary history, painted a vivid picture of bullfights and drama, with the Plaza del Castillo as its pulsing heart. A visit to this bustling square and its quaint cafes is a must for any Hemingway fan, providing a glimpse into the world that enchanted the author so.
While Pamplona may be synonymous with bull runs and Hemingway's prose, this city is so much more. The enchanting Old Quarter, with its medieval walls and stunning Gothic cathedral, is a testament to the passage of time. We leisurely wandered through these streets, letting our imaginations conjure images of days gone by - knights on horseback, merchants hawking their wares, and of course, Hemingway nursing a drink, contemplating his next adventure.
So, as we wrap up our casual jaunt through the streets of Pamplona, we raise a glass to this remarkable city - where the spirit of Hemingway and the thrill of the bulls collide, leaving a lasting impression on all who visit. And as we toast, remember this: sometimes, the most profound experiences are born not from the rush of adrenaline, but from the quiet moments when we truly connect with the essence of a place.
Salud and Live well!
M.
All photos captured with the Leica Sl2-S and the Leica Q2.
PINTXOS, NOT TAPAS...
I am delighted to share that we are here and enjoying the Basque Country of Northwest Spain. After leaving Andorra's small but beautiful Principality a few days ago, we made our way closer to the Atlantic coast. We decided to settle just a few kilometres from San Sebastien.
Today we spend a little time on traditional food. And, what goes better with local, traditional food than conventional, local beer and wine. So, this post is all about describing & discussing the beloved local tradition of Pintxos - a Basque version of tapas that are as delicious as they are unique.
The origins of Pintxos can be traced back to the Basque Country, where they have been a staple of the local cuisine for generations. "pintxo" means "spike" in Basque and refers to the toothpick that holds the ingredients together. These small bites are often served on a slice of bread and come in various flavours and combinations, such as grilled octopus & prawns, cured meats, olives, anchovies or cheese.
What makes Pintxos so unique is the way they are served. You can find them displayed on the counters of local bars, and diners are encouraged to help themselves to their favourites. The toothpicks are used to track how many Pintxos you've eaten, and you pay at the end of the meal based on how many toothpicks you've accumulated. It's a fun and interactive way to enjoy a meal with friends, and the local Basque ingredients make it even more special.
While tapas can be found throughout Spain, Pintxos is a unique and essential part of the Basque culinary experience. The flavours and ingredients reflect the regional culture, and the tradition of sharing food and conversation with friends is deeply ingrained in the local way of life. So if you find yourself exploring the Basque Country, be sure to indulge in the local tradition of Pintxos. Your taste buds will thank you, and you'll gain a new appreciation for the joy of small bites and big flavours. Cheers to good food and great adventures! I would be remiss if I didn't go on now to describe the local libations, as they are just as important to the culinary experience.
The Basque Country is famous for its Txakoli wine, a slightly sparkling white wine produced exclusively in the region. It's crisp and refreshing, with a light acidity that pairs perfectly with Pintxos. In recent years, the local winemakers have also started producing red wines and rosés, but Txakoli remains the most popular and iconic Basque wine.
If you're not a wine fan, fear not - the Basque Country also has a thriving craft beer scene. The local brews are often made with regional ingredients, such as hops from the nearby Pyrenees mountains. The most popular beer in the region is called Keler, a refreshing lager that pairs well with the bold flavours of Pintxos. But if you're feeling adventurous, try a local specialty like Basqueland Brewing or Laugar Brewery.
What makes Basque wine and beer so special is how they reflect the local culture and traditions. The Txakoli grapes are grown on terraced vineyards that have been used for hundreds of years, and the local breweries use traditional methods to create unique and flavorful beers. Drinking and dining in the Basque Country are not just about the taste - it's a way to connect with the local community and experience the region's rich history and culture. So raise a glass of Txakoli or Keler and toast to the joy of sharing good food and great company.
Thanks for stopping by, and I hope to read your comments if you have enjoyed the food on show.
Live well & Salud!
M
p.s. The following curated images were captured with both the Leica SL2-S and Q2.
MY 10TH EPISODE OF THE VILLAGE DIARIES.
Discovering the Timeless Charm of Saignon: this Quaint Provençal Village is definitely a must if you ever decide to visit the Luberon Valley. Nestled in the heart of the region, Saignon is a picturesque village that seems untouched by the hands of time. Steeped in history, this charming place has been gracing the Provençal landscape since the Roman era. It has seen the rise and fall of empires, the comings and goings of royalty, and the evolution of France itself. Fast forward to the present day, Saignon continues to be a delightful destination, offering an authentic Provençal experience for those seeking a serene and idyllic getaway.
Getting to Saignon is a breeze, as this enchanting village is just a short drive away from the larger town of Apt. From Apt, hop on the D943 and follow the signs to Saignon. As you wind through the scenic countryside, you'll be captivated by the sight of centuries-old stone houses, lush vineyards, and verdant fields of lavender. Upon arriving in Saignon, prepare to be enchanted by the village's narrow cobblestone streets, charming squares, and friendly locals.
Saignon's close-knit community consists mainly of around 1,000 residents, who are known for their warm hospitality and dedication to preserving the village's rich heritage. Many locals are engaged in traditional occupations such as agriculture, with a focus on wine and olive production, as well as artisan crafts and small family-run businesses. The village's homes are emblematic of Provençal architecture, featuring time-honored stone buildings with colorful shutters and terracotta-tiled roofs, creating an enchanting atmosphere that perfectly complements the village's historic charm.
Once you've settled in, take the time to explore the village's rich culinary scene. For a mouthwatering Provençal meal, head into any of the local cafes or restaurants you walk by. In any one of them you'll enjoy delicious dishes crafted from fresh, local ingredients with friendly warm and attentive service. After a satisfying meal, set out to discover Saignon's historical gems. Be sure to visit the 12th-century Church of Notre-Dame-de-Pitié and the picturesque Rocher de Bellevue, where you can take in panoramic views of the Luberon valley. Wander the quaint streets and don't miss the beautifully preserved stone fountains that add to the village's magical ambiance. From ancient Roman ruins to the heartwarming charm of its residents, Saignon truly has something for everyone. I do look forward to reading about your thoughts in the comments section below.
Live Well!
M.
p.s. All of these images were captured with the Leica SL2-S and both the 21mm and 90mm F2 APO lenses.
CHATEAU LA COSTE IN MONOCHROME, A PHOTO ESSAY.
Other than these words, An absolutely huge thank you to our new friend Anna for suggesting we visit the château. We are in Anna’s debt! There are no more words.
BUT MOM, WHAT IF I WANNA BE A DIGITAL NOMAD?
As an admirer of all things art, the Chateau La Coste, situated just a little to the north of Aix-en-Provence, is truly a feast for the senses. The estate is a fusion of contemporary architecture and art, all surrounded by the stunning vineyards of Provence. Every corner you turn is a new discovery, with sculptures from artists such as Louise Bourgeois and Alexander Calder dotting the landscape. The buildings themselves are also works of art, designed by some of the most renowned architects in the world, such as Jean Nouvel and Tadao Ando. The grounds are a living canvas, and exploring them feels like a journey into a dream world.
But the Chateau La Coste is not just about art. The estate is also home to a world-class winery and several outstanding restaurants. The wine produced here is a reflection of the land and the people who make it, with each bottle a testament to the unique terroir of Provence. The vineyards are tended with care and attention, and the resulting wines are a celebration of the region's rich history and culture. Whether you are a connoisseur or simply someone who enjoys a good glass of wine, the Chateau La Coste has something for everyone.
The restaurant we chose today is named after the above mentioned architect Tadao Ando. It is a stunningly modern location born out of sculpture. We were greeted by a slender staff member who was clad in black from turtleneck to Hermès loafer. He asked for our reservation details and then requested we follow him. You would think by now that I would remember to take a seat in the chair that most obscures my gaze from the surrounding diners. My recurring problem is that I still cannot switch off in public and as such incessantly watch and listen to everyone and everything around me. It is a curse of a past career and something I need to rectify ASAP if I am to enjoy my time left on this planet.
Just my luck, today we had table neighbours who were not going to help my situation at all. A party of three. Two overly coddled “Gen Z global citizens", and their seemingly estranged and uninterested Italian mother. For what seemed like well over the first half an hour, we were witness to unrelenting whining and snivelling about how hard it is to maintain bank accounts in the US, UK, and Italy all at one time. Additionally, they needed help retaining a shady immigration lawyer to help them get a recent application accepted for the relatively new phenomenon of certain countries in the world who offer a GOLDEN visa.
The estranged mother, with the weathered face of a thousand sandstorms and a million Benson & Hedges, kept quiet and smoked more cigarettes to dull the pain. I should actually explain that mom did a valiant job at enduring the selfishness and conversation hijacking. There did come the point, though, where everything changed. At that moment, the 20-something girl announced that her mother would have to pay for this lovely lunch and dig a little deeper. There was a pregnant pause. I could sense it coming. And then, just like the British soldiers in the movie A Bridge too Far,. She, too, went a bridge too far. “Mom, I need more money. What if I wanna be a digital nomad?” Things changed at that point. Mom got up and walked out of our sight. The coddled remained to guess which one of their international bank accounts had enough money to pay the hefty bill. Mom never returned. The spoiled little fekkers could still be there as I write this, working in the vines or washing kitchen pots. Either would suffice. 1 - 0 storm-face!
Once again, I thank you for dropping by. And an absolutely huge thank you to our new friend Anna for suggesting we visit the Chateau. Magical moments indeed. We are in Anna’s debt! Today's images were captured with the Leica Q2.
Live Well!
M.
THE MOST BEAUTIFUL SMALL TOWN IN THE WORLD!
According to Travel & Leisure magazine, in 2023, Gordes is considered the world’s most beautiful small town. Right off the bat, I have to tell you we do not live here, so we have little room to boast. But, and this is a big but, when we open our bedroom shutters in the morning, we do stare directly at Gordes across the Luberon valley. In many ways, I owe Gordes a big thank you for playing a massive role in bringing me to this valley in the first place. It was, in fact, Gordes and the village that we currently call home that forced our hand.
I may have mentioned this several times in the past. Still, without stumbling over a movie written by my literary hero, directed by Ridley Scott, starring Russell Crowe and filmed almost entirely in both villages, this would have never happened. That movie is called “A Good Year.” Some, like me, have watched and re-watched it countless times to admire the scenery through the lens of masterful cinematographers. Conversely, some folks didn’t enjoy it very much. Now, I will be the first to say that if you lust after movies about transforming robots, car theft or Keanu Reeves jumping through the space-time continuum to safely evade bullets, you should absolutely give a Good Year a miss.
This is what Gordes really is. Gordes is surely the most captivating hilltop village in Provence, with a rich and intriguing history. Dating back to the Roman era, Gordes was once a significant center for agricultural production and commerce in the region. Over the centuries, the village has seen its fair share of conflicts and upheavals, including wars and invasions. Today, Gordes is a charming destination that attracts visitors from all over the world with its stunning architecture, quaint cobbled streets, and breathtaking views of the Luberon mountains. As a travel photographer, I find myself drawn to the village's unique beauty and fascinating history, and I never tire of capturing its essence through the lens of my Leica.
As I sit here writing, the mistral winds are blowing a gale and it is time for us to close the shutters to both stop the chilly drafts as well as protect the windows. I can’t begin to describe how ferociously the wind can gust here. As legend has it, the mistrals are the cause for many locals to plunge into the depths of despair during the winter months when the winds last for weeks. For those who recover, the knowledge that warmth and calm are soon to restore life to normal in the Luberon, is all they can ask.
Thank you so much for dropping by and I look forward to hearing from you in the comments below.
Live Well!
M.
p.s. All of these photos were captured with both the Leica Q2 Ghost and SL2-S.
GET A LOOK AT THESE KNOCKERS.
#24
I want to apologise immediately if you clicked on this post assuming you were going to see something completely different. You probably assumed that this post would be directed more towards those starved for news of this season’s Mediterranean swimwear fashion trends. Perhaps some images captured beachside while wandering along the Promenade des Anglais. Nope, not this time. No-one more than I loves a couple of dozen pictures of well cared for and proudly displayed knockers. To some, these bits of old brass are nothing more than inanimate objects. I see the patina of several bygone eras, and try to imagine the conversations that took place at each of these doors over so many years. Why not try embracing my passion for some of the prettiest knockers in Provence!
The history of old French brass door knockers traces its roots back to the medieval period when castles and large manor houses started using these ornamental yet functional devices. Crafted with intricate designs, these door knockers often reflected the architectural styles prevalent during various periods such as Gothic, Renaissance, and Baroque. French artisans used their skill and creativity to forge unique designs, often inspired by mythology, heraldry, and nature. These exquisite brass door knockers not only served as a way to announce a visitor's arrival but also became a symbol of wealth, prestige, and artistic prowess.
The use of old French brass door knockers transcended their primary function, evolving into a form of art that embellished the entrance of a home. Given the high-quality craftsmanship and the durable nature of brass, many of these door knockers have withstood the test of time. Today, they are highly sought-after by collectors and enthusiasts of vintage decorative objects. The old French brass door knockers, with their undeniable charm and intricate detailing, continue to captivate the imaginations of both historians and artists alike, ensuring their lasting legacy as a testament to the mastery of the artisans who created them.
For those who are interested, and I know that is very few, the following images were captured with a Leica Q2 Ghost. I trust you will enjoy staring at these knockers, I know I do!
Live Well!
M.
p.s. What knocker is your favourite? Leave the number below with your thoughts in the comments section below.
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The Splendor of the Mundane: A Modern-Day Philosopher's Musings.
As I sit here, sipping my morning coffee, nibbling my pain au chocolat and gazing through the window, I ponder the nature of life's little wonders. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, the delicate dance of leaves rustling in the wind, the melodic chatter of birds engaged in their morning rituals – these seemingly trivial moments have the potential to evoke profound gratitude and a sense of connectedness to the world around us.
In our fast-paced, technology-driven society, it is all too easy to become consumed by our own ambitions and the ceaseless pursuit of progress. We strive for grand achievements and seek to etch our names in the annals of history, often overlooking the beauty that lies hidden in the mundane. But there is something to be said for slowing down and taking the time to truly observe and appreciate the subtleties of existence.
It is no coincidence that the most revered philosophers in history have often emphasized the importance of gratitude and appreciation for the small, everyday wonders of life. Stoicism, for example, teaches us to cultivate inner peace by being present in the moment and accepting life's natural ebb and flow. Similarly, the ancient Chinese philosophy of Taoism encourages us to align ourselves with the natural rhythms of the world and to find harmony in life's simplest pleasures.
So, how can we, as modern-day philosophers, cultivate an attitude
I know, for those who know me, you are thinking this is rich. A man who likes and or enjoys the company of less people on this planet than that of a full rugby team roster. But since I now have lots of time to sit in the Provençal sun, I tend to muse over the future and how to best wander through that time and space. I recently downloaded an app that has predicted my life span. It seems that I have “approximately” 21 years, 101 days, 4 hours, 40 minutes and 50 seconds to go. Since brevity is of the essence I have decided through hours of deep reflection to attempt the following.
Cultivate mindfulness: Being present in the moment is essential to noticing and appreciating life's subtle gifts. By practicing mindfulness, we can develop the ability to focus on our immediate experiences, rather than being preoccupied with our anxieties, ambitions, or regrets. Engaging in meditation or simply taking a few moments throughout the day to focus on our breath can help us develop a deeper connection with the present moment and the world around us.
Embrace simplicity: In a world where consumerism and excess often reign supreme, it is important to remind ourselves of the value of simplicity. By deliberately choosing to live with less, we can create space in our lives for the things that truly matter. This may involve decluttering our physical spaces, minimizing our digital distractions, or reevaluating our commitments to ensure that we are dedicating our time and energy to pursuits that align with our values and bring us genuine fulfillment.
Cultivate maximum and undeterred curiosity: Approaching the world with a sense of curiosity and wonder can open our eyes to the beauty that lies hidden in the seemingly ordinary. Make a conscious effort to ask questions, explore new ideas, and challenge your own assumptions about the world. This spirit of inquiry can help us develop a greater appreciation for the interconnectedness of all things and the myriad ways in which the world continually surprises.
I must go. The church bells are ringing and it seems it is already 10 a.m.. In life as it is in Provence, our focus should be on the little things!
Live Well.
M.
Please leave your thoughts or comments below. I love to hear from you.
All of the images in this blog were taken with the Leica Q2 Ghost.
FOR THOSE “WHO IDENTIFY” AS GEN X AND THIRSTY!
As I have said many times in the past, London is one of my favourite cities in the world. I am of the opinion that travelling to the real deal better satisfies not just appetite and thirst, but also the mind and soul. Far be it from me to go on about galleries, museums, stunning architecture and local history. That’s not for everyone. Some may prefer to visit old London bridge in a place called Lake Havasu City. Depending on who you ask, places like this apparently stand as “accurate reflections” of the actual location’s they represent.
Moving on, it must be beer o’clock somewhere? If like us, you are looking to experience the best of London's watering holes while also getting in a few thousand steps? Well, its go time my thirsty friends, because a pub crawl (not literally) along the South bank of the Thames might just be the perfect way to satisfy both of those desires. Not only will you be able to sample some of the city's finest ales, but you'll also get to take in some stunning views of the of the skyline along the way.
Because we normally stay in the square mile or the east end, I have set a course that starts closer to Westminster and ends nearer to our bohemian neighborhood. If you prefer to stay closer to Mayfair or the alike, try this route in reverse.
Here are 10 pubs along the South Bank of the Thames that will put you in the right mood, in order from west to east:
The Tattershall Castle: (actually this pub is now moored on the North bank adjacent to New Scotland Yard). This unique pub is located on a boat, moored on the riverbank. The Tattershall Castle offers stunning views of the London Eye and the Houses of Parliament, and has a large outdoor seating area perfect for a sunny day.
The White Hart: This charming pub is located in the heart of the historic neighborhood of Southwark. It has a cozy interior with exposed brick walls, and serves up a great selection of real ales.
The Anchor Bankside: This iconic pub has been a fixture on the South Bank for over 800 years. It's said that William Shakespeare used to drink here, and the pub's outdoor seating area is a great spot to take in views of the Globe Theatre and the river.
The Doggett's Coat and Badge: Located next to Blackfriars Bridge, this traditional pub is named after the oldest rowing race in the world. The cozy interior is decorated with rowing memorabilia, and the pub serves up a great selection of beer and pub grub.
The Blackfriars: This historic pub is housed in a beautiful Art Nouveau building, and has a large outdoor terrace overlooking the river. The pub serves up a great selection of craft beers and cocktails.
The Founders Arms: This popular pub has a large outdoor seating area with stunning views of St. Paul's Cathedral. It's a great spot to grab a pint after a walk across the Millennium Bridge.
The Old Thameside Inn: Located just a stone's throw from the iconic Shard building, this traditional pub has a large outdoor seating area on the riverbank. The pub serves up a great selection of real ales and pub classics.
The Horniman at Hays: This historic pub is housed in a former tea warehouse, and has a large outdoor terrace with views of Tower Bridge. The pub serves up a great selection of craft beers and artisanal pizzas.
The Captain Kidd: This nautically-themed pub is named after the infamous pirate who was hanged at Execution Dock, just a short walk away. The pub has a large outdoor seating area and serves up a great selection of seafood.
The Prospect of Whitby: This historic pub dates back to the 16th century, and has a large outdoor seating area with views of the river and Canary Wharf. The pub is said to have been a favorite haunt of Charles Dickens, and serves up a great selection of real ales and pub class.
Its important to keep in mind that the following list is not exhaustive and the taste and flavor profiles can vary depending on the batch and brewer. When you stop to rest your weary feet at these public houses, I suggest you try some of both the following mainstream beers as well as some of the most sought after micro brews:
Fuller's London Pride
Kernel Brewery London Sour
Sambrook's Brewery Wandle
Meantime Brewing Co.
Camden Town Brewery Hells Lager
Fourpure Brewing Co. - Pils Lager
The Kernel Brewery - London Sour
Camden Town Brewery - Hells Lager
Siren Craft Brew - Soundwave IPA
Brixton Brewery - Electric IPA
Partizan Brewing - Saison Lemongrass
Redemption Brewing Co. - Big Chief IPA
Pressure Drop Brewing - Pale Fire Pale Ale
Gipsy Hill Brewing Company - Hepcat Session IPA
As you walk along the South Bank from west to east, you'll see some of London's most iconic and historic landmarks on both sides of the river. Here are a few standouts and a few interesting facts about each:
The Palace of Westminster: Located directly across the river from the Tattershall Castle, the Palace of Westminster, also known as the Houses of Parliament, is one of the most recognizable landmarks in London. It has been the home of British politics since the 11th century, and the current neo-gothic building was constructed in the 19th century after a fire destroyed the previous building.
The London Eye: Standing at 135 meters tall, the London Eye is a cantilevered observation wheel that offers stunning views of the city. It was originally built as a temporary structure to celebrate the Millennium in 2000, but it proved so popular that it became a permanent fixture on the London skyline.
The Tate Modern: Housed in a former power station, the Tate Modern is one of the world's most famous contemporary art galleries. It's known for its striking architecture, which combines the industrial feel of the power station with sleek, modern design.
The Globe Theatre: Located next to the Anchor Bankside pub, the Globe Theatre is a faithful reconstruction of the original Elizabethan theatre that was home to many of Shakespeare's plays. The theatre hosts regular performances of Shakespeare's plays, and offers tours and exhibitions about the history of the theatre.
Tower Bridge: Just a short walk from the Horniman at Hays pub, Tower Bridge is one of London's most iconic landmarks. Built in the late 19th century, it's a suspension bridge that spans the River Thames, and is famous for its twin towers and ornate Victorian design.
The Tower of London: Located just next to Tower Bridge, the Tower of London is a historic castle that has served as a royal palace, a prison, and a treasury over the centuries. It's famous for its iconic White Tower, and for housing the Crown Jewels of the United Kingdom.
To sum up, if you're a beer lover and find yourself in London, you're in for a treat! With a wide variety of local microbreweries and delicious flagship beers, you're sure to find something to suit your taste.
So, whether you're a seasoned beer drinker or just curious to try something new, London's local breweries are not to be missed. Cheers to your next adventure along the banks of the Thames!
Before I leave you, I just remembered to check my iPhone activity app. To my surprise it seems this route took 17970 steps to complete. Give this trek a try one day. It’s not just good for quenching a thirst, it’s good for the soul as well!
All photos taken with the Leica Q2 Ghost.
Please leave a comment if you have a moment. I really enjoy hearing from you!
Live Well!
Mark
Murder and a Pint!
Prologue.
I’m not normally one to partake in a “busman’s holiday”. Before you ask, I fall into the category of those who once investigated these matters, not committed them! Just thought I’d clear that one up right out of the gate.
Today, we are exploring the Historic Pubs of East London's Jack the Ripper Era. If you're a fan of history, true crime, and a good pint, then you'll love exploring the historic pubs of East London. The notorious serial killer terrorized the area in the late 1880s, and visiting the pubs where he and his victims may have frequented adds an eerie and intriguing layer to your visit in this now vibrant part of the city.
Jack the Ripper is the nickname given to an unidentified serial killer who was active in the Whitechapel area of East London between 1888 and 1891. The name "Jack the Ripper" originated from a letter written by someone claiming to be the murderer that was published at the time. The letter was addressed to the Central News Agency and signed "Jack the Ripper."
Jack the Ripper is believed to have murdered at least five women, all of whom were sex trade workers, in a brutal and gruesome manner. The murders took place between August and November of 1888, and the victims were Mary Ann Nicholls, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly. The murders were never solved, and the identity of Jack the Ripper remains one of the greatest unsolved mysteries in criminal history.
Pubs to Visit on Your Jack the Ripper Pub Crawl
Ten Bells: This historic pub, located on Commercial Street, dates back to the 1700s and is thought to have been a favorite of Jack the Ripper's victims. Today, it's a popular spot for a pint and a bite to eat, with a menu that features classic pub fare. On tap, you'll find a rotating selection of cask ales and craft beers, as well as a wide selection of wines and spirits. Must-try menu items include the fish and chips, the Ten Bells burger, and the Ploughman's lunch.
The Water Poet: This charming pub, located on Folgate Street, has a long history dating back to the 1600s. It's believed that Jack the Ripper may have spent time here, and today it's a great spot for a drink and a relaxed atmosphere. On tap, you'll find a rotating selection of cask ales and craft beers, as well as a wide selection of wines and spirits. Must-try menu items include the pie of the day, the Water Poet burger, and the sausage roll.
The Princess Alice: This pub, located on Whitechapel Road, is named after the tragic story of the Princess Alice steamboat disaster that took place in the River Thames in 1878. Today, it's a lively spot for a drink and a bite to eat, with a menu that features traditional pub fare. On tap, you'll find a rotating selection of cask ales and craft beers, as well as a wide selection of wines and spirits. Must-try menu items include the Sunday roast, the fish and chips, and the Princess Alice burger.
The Coach and Horses: This historic pub, located on Crispin Street, is thought to have been a favorite of the local working-class population in the late 1800s. Today, it's a charming spot for a drink and a meal, with a menu that features classic pub fare. On tap, you'll find a rotating selection of cask ales and craft beers, as well as a wide selection of wines and spirits. Must-try menu items include the steak and kidney pie, the scotch egg, and the Coach and Horses burger.
The Rose and Crown: This historic pub, located on Houndsditch, has a long history dating back to the 1600s. It's believed that Jack the Ripper may have spent time here, and today it's a great spot for a drink and a relaxed atmosphere. On tap, you'll find a rotating selection of cask ales and craft beers, as well as a wide selection of wines and spirits. Must-try menu items include the pub's famous fish pie, the Ploughman's lunch, and the Rose and Crown burger.
Best Walking Route
To experience all of these historic pubs in one walking tour, start at the Ten Bells on Commercial Street and head southeast on Whitechapel Road until you reach the Princess Alice. From the Princess Alice, head southeast on Whitechapel Road until you reach the Coach and Horses on Crispin Street. Finally, head north on Houndsditch until you reach the Rose and Crown. This route will take you past all of the historic pubs and through the heart of the East End, giving you a glimpse into the history of the area and the time of Jack the Ripper.
Visiting the historic pubs of East London's Jack the Ripper era is a must-do for fans of history and true crime. Not only will you get to experience a piece of London's past, but you'll also get to enjoy a drink and a meal in some of the city's most charming and atmospheric pubs. Go off piste from time to time as well. There are hundreds if not thousands of east end pubs to wander into. So put on your walking shoes, that deerstalker hat you thought you’d never wear and grab a map. Get ready to explore the haunted and fascinating world of Jack the Ripper or if you’re hungry “Jack the Chipper”!
Please leave a comment if you have a moment, I do love to hear from you.
Live Well,
Mark
THE STREETS OF EUROPE.
Where would I be without a camera and the streets? Most often, my travels are a mix of city and village life. I suspect this tried and tested formula has evolved over many years as the most effective way to enjoy my time on the road. The energy required for pounding city streets is substantial; however, the energy necessary to sip Rose' at a cafe in a provencal village might be less of a commitment (or so I've heard).
I am happy to travel or live in any such setting. London, Paris, Rome, and Barcelona are just a few of my favourite things. It always takes a little while for me to feel like a local in any of them, but sooner than later they become home away from home. As a traveller, you will undoubtedly enjoy your stay in any major European city for a few days, weeks, or even longer. The energy of these cities, their people and day-to-day life is intoxicating. Step out of your door regardless of rain or shine, because a day on the continent will rarely disappoint. The aromas of local eateries, bakeries and cheese mongers waft through the air with purpose. If you want peace and tranquillity, get up with the birds. If electricity and mojo is your thing, then go wandering after dark.
Communal spaces in Europe are great places for aspiring photographers: parks, museums, and markets ooze charm and provide the visitor an insight to the lifestyles of locals. Photographically, I always arrive with some compositions in mind. However, I have learned to keep the camera away from my eye until I have studied my surroundings and observed long enough to feel the local vibe.
People are often the subjects of my photography. I love to capture moments between strangers, friends and families. Moments that may have never happened before or may never happen again. Style and presence isn't everything, but it certainly catches my attention. If I am quick enough, the person with both is my camera's order of the day.
Sometimes a cafe can be the best starting place for a photo walk. Also, a glass or two of wine can lower the inhibitions that can hold me back from getting in tight with a subject or composition. However, to be clear, two glasses of wine does not turn me into a paparazzi capable of skulking through people's garbage or hiding in the bushes for the right time to snap the money shot. That's weird, and I suspect "but can't say for sure" the telltale signs of an apprentice sociopath.
Back to Europe and my fondness for its photographic locations and people. This blog is dedicated to my travels and my cameras. Two things that make me content and centered. So many places and things don't, but this has become and will always remain what puts the jam in my donut.
Live well!
Mark.
Please leave a comment if you have time. I love to hear from you!
WALKING DOWN MEMORY LANE.
I must apologize now to those expecting this post to be splashed with the colours of Provence or some other fabulous picturesque destination. This time my journey has taken me back to where I started my career 30 long years ago. This post is a photo essay in retrospect.
The location for this collection of images is Carberry, Manitoba. Carberry is located about a two-hour drive east from Winnipeg, almost slap-bang in the middle of Canada. That may sound like an easy journey by car, but it becomes a little more of a chore when you begin the trip on Vancouver Island, some 2230 kilometres away.
In 1992 I arrived here in Carberry full of enthusiasm and naivety. I had recently sworn an oath to Queen and Country. My first “posting” (job) was to protect and serve the townsfolk and surrounding areas as best as possible. I was well trained and proud of my place in life.
Six months prior, I had never in my wildest dreams thought I would end up here or even that a place like this existed. Halfway through my training, I was told by a superior that I could expect to be working in British Columbia's Okanagan Valley after graduation. I would live the high life in a place known for vast lakes, fantastic skiing and beautiful vineyards.
Surprise, change of plan and Carberry it was. With all the best intentions, my time here started unpredictably. A small town with little going on was my initial impression.
I suppose for you British comedy film buffs out there, my time here started as it did for Sgt. Nicolas Angel in the movie Hot Fuzz. Slow and easy with smatterings of good humour. But, by 2 a.m. the following morning, I was pinned down in a snow bank, taking rifle fire from a farmhouse a short distance North from where I lay.
I won't bore you with the details but suffice to say, it was a long freezing cold night at a tumultuous incident. The outcome has stayed with me vividly all these years.
In fact, thirty years later this work has done its very best to desensitize me in every way imaginable. The challenges and responsibilities build with time and experience. So with many moves & transfers behind me, I thought it may have been the appropriate time to return to where it all began.
I wanted to capture some images of what it has become. But, as you will see as you scroll down, not much has changed, and it seems my memories have been preserved in a time capsule, never buried.
This is a typical prairie town with ordinary prairie townsfolk going about their lives. Some farm. Some work at the potato processing plant. Most drive half-ton trucks and smile at you when you cross paths.
My time was different here. It was a good idea to return. It has helped me to process a few things. It's not the only place I ever worked where the events of better left untold horrors effected me, but it was the first, so it left a mark.
As I wandered from place to place, it struck me that I might not be the only one that may live with life-changing memories related to this town. No more significant was this realisation than when I approached the stone chiseled list of war dead on the cenotaph. A place erected to honour the local men lost in a far-off land. So many from such a small town. Families were impacted forever by their loss. Prairie towns suffered hugely throughout both world wars. Young, strong men lost, never to return to their families again. In fact it is less than 10 minutes by car from here that 30,000 Commonwealth soldiers were trained for trench warfare throughout WWI. Camp Hughes was at one time the 2nd biggest place by population in this province behind the city of Winnipeg. Still today, trenches can be seen dotted on the horizons of ranch land west of town.
My journey has ended literally with a cathartic walk down memory lane. But, I am better for it and thankful for the opportunity. This place laid the foundations for an unbelievably fulfilling and exciting career. I have worked all over this country with some exceptional people. I came here thinking Carberry stole my innocence and it owed me something as a result. Now I realize, I owe Carberry.
Live well!
Mark.
Images captured with the Leica M10-R.
As always, please leave a comment if you have time. I enjoy hearing from you!
ESCAPING THE HEAT OF PROVENCE IN THE DOLOMITES.
I should never complain about Provençal summer weather, given that springtime on Vancouver Island was akin to a time when Noah was shipbuilding, and the animals were lining up in twos to get a deck chair on his Ark
Yet, after enduring weeks of temperatures in the high 30s to mid 40s, I was gasping for just a little bit of cooling respite. The first place that popped to mind to find that relief was the Dolomites. Sure, you can get the same relief in the French Alps or Switzerland, but northern Italy and its Dolomites seemed to me like just what the doctor would order.
We loaded up the third consecutive rental car of the summer and set a course for a little town north of Vicenza called Bassano del Grappa. BDG is a beautiful place in the foothills of the Dolomites. The town’s wooden covered bridge which spans the Brenta river is a lovely and petite version of the Ponte Vecchio in Florence and the focal point of BDG.
We wandered about in the evening, both before and after dinner and again in the early morning before the locals began their day. This place is a gem. I would say that the majority of folks out walking were from the area, and everyone was happy to see and talk to Hamish.
Hamish is a well-adjusted K9 traveller at this stage, and as the trip went on, his experiences went from fantastic to surreal (wait for Venice). When we left BDL, we plotted a course to Bolzano with a mind to driving the Great Dolomite Road to Cortina. Cortina was a host of the winter Olympics in the late 50s and is proudly retaking the honour once again in 2026.
One of Europe's most scenic driving routes is the Grande Strada Delle Dolomiti, also known as the Great Dolomite Road. It is a breathtaking scenic drive that crosses three alpine passes (Falzarego, Pordoi and Karerpass, at the renowned Rosengarten), connecting the Bozen and Bolzano regions.
I won't embarrass myself trying to wordsmith a description of the mountain passes we drove over and through. Suffice to say there were 60 switchback hairpin turns, most often at a snail's pace. Alternatively, I hope that some of my images will take the place of a thousand (boring) words!
The Great Dolomite Road allowed us to set out a different plan. The question of the day was where to go next and how do we get there. I must admit, and I am sure if you have kept up with me over the months and years you know, Venice is always high on my list. Cortina is so close to the Veneto region that the question quickly transitioned from where next to why not.
Had Hamish ever been aboard a Vapatetto? Had Hamish ever travelled from Marco Polo airport to the Island of Murano on a private water taxi? Had Hamish ever eaten spaghetti pomodoro from a bowl tableside at an Osteria?
The answer to all of those questions was not yet and we will soon see. We were on our way to Parking Garage #1 at Marco Polo with that decision made. Our room was booked on the Island of Murano (as usual). In what seemed like the blink of an eye we were aboard Gino's water taxi. This leg of the journey happened solely because all dogs of any breed or size must be muzzled on a Vaporetto and oddly enough we don't own a muzzle. Hamish was happy, Deanna was delighted, I was poorer, and Gino was ecstatic because he was fleecing us 80 Euros for a 15-minute trip across the lagoon.
You can't dwell on the odd down when there are so many more ups. Soon after arriving, we checked into the hotel and then took a short nap before heading out for an evening walk to find a wonderful meal. As we enjoyed each bite, we discussed the plan of attack for the next morning. I volunteered to find a muzzle for Hamish. I thought if I got over to Venice early, I could wander before the crowds arrived. I packed my camera bag and did a little research on how to find a few places that had escaped me on several prior visits.
I'm sure I have mentioned more than once in the past that I am pretty taken with the works of Ernest Hemingway. So much so I have come to fixate on his many visits to Harry's Bar on the dockside of San Marco Square. I have tried several times in the past, but I could never satisfy the dress code. With those disappointments still fresh in my mind I resolved to be more prepared than Lord Baden Powell for my next attempt.
Six in the morning came quickly, and just a few minutes after waking, I was leaving the hotel. The dock is just a few steps away and I was soon aboard the Vaporetto and nearing "the big island." As we tied up alongside the hospital dock, I bolted for the back streets. The Rialto bridge was my first real stop, and after a few minutes on the top of the span, I moved on to the fish market. What an environment. What an electric feeling. I observed, photographed, and then moved back to the streets off the square. I could have stopped for a coffee, but I wanted to save all consumption of food and drink for Harry's.
An hour later, I was in and sitting at the bar discussing the genesis of the Bellini with the bartender over a fantastic Americano. I finally made it. I can get run over by a speeding gondola tomorrow and die a thoroughly happy man.
Well, that's it for now. I hope you enjoy the photographs and maybe think about including a few of these places on your next trip.
Please feel free to leave a comment if you have a moment.
Live Well!
Mark
The photographs taken on this trip were captured with the Leica M10-R and Q2.
TO ABSENT FRIENDS!
Today started out like most in the Luberon. Up too early, a double espresso, and then the big decision. Do we wander down to the Boules Court? Do we really want to hang our TRX trainer and resistance bands on the iron vine trellis for an old folks workout? Or do we scrap that nonsense, jump on the bikes, and peddle to Lacoste? When we arrive there, we can have a light breakfast or “petit déjeuner” consisting of baguette, salted butter, lavender honey and local preserves. That simple start to the day always arrives alongside a Spanish orange juice from our Valencian brothers, a second espresso, and a wonderful smile.
The location for this regular excursion is Cafe France. Their terrace clings to the granite cliffside 40 meters above the street below and provides a vista of the valley that’s second to none. Our server has become quite familiar with this ritual and always makes us feel very welcome when we arrive sweaty and a little short of breath. Sometimes minutes can turn into hours sitting there gazing towards the rising sun.
I have been separated from photography for most of this trip. Usually, it's my happy place and serves as the best tool to take me out of myself. Moments of clarity & peace manifest themselves when I focus, compose and consider nothing but what stands before me.
The camera’s viewfinder provides a very affective therapy that can't be replicated, and today was a great reminder to include it in my day more often.
Lacoste is a place for a total immersion in the arts. Art students, artists in residence and locals with flair and creativity. As you wander the cobbles, you can glance in studio windows, stroll through sculpture, and lose yourself in a world that I've always fancied but never had the opportunity to embrace. Life gets in the way, and it never strikes you when you are young that you can earn a living being creative.
I envy the Savanah College of Art and Design students who learn, develop and create here during their "year abroad." It appears from the outside to be a fantastic way to be educated. The importance of recognizing a well rounded education is more than just growing as an academic and an artist. The value of being a traveler completes the trifecta and could be the cornerstone of a life well lived.
It was eerily quiet here this morning. What curiously permeated today's visit was the feeling of oneness. The feeling that today, those inside these castle walls are living a solitary existence. Today was an alone day. I stopped to consider this under the shade of a large and well situated olive tree for a while. Olive trees are a godsend when temperatures push past 36 degrees in the morning.
Sometimes no matter where you are. No matter how beautiful your surroundings. No matter how satisfied you are with your lot in life, it can be still hard to live it alone. So whether it's an old man occupying one chair of three, a cat with a sill all to himself, or a sculpture standing or even flying in solitude, sometimes it can be better to have the company of a friend.
I consider myself very lucky, as I live this privileged life with my best friend of 31 years. For that I am truly grateful. Yet, I raise a glass to those who are alone as well as those they miss. I hope that just like my last photo of this series, a friend is never too far away when you really need a hug.
To absent friends!
Live well!
Mark
If you have some time please leave a comment . I love to hear from you.
P.S. There are over seven billion people on this planet. I only like 13 of them. Maybe that’s ok too? :)
All of these images were captured with a Leica M10-R
YES, I'VE BECOME A BIKE WANKER.
Photo Credit to Liam.
It has been a long time since I have had the inclination to get my thoughts down on "paper." Unfortunately, in the spring, I had a setback healthwise; as such, all my efforts have gone to resolving these niggles. Drop weight and exercise more were the orders of the day. The first significant change had to be made to my schedule at work. Last year I was graciously offered a job that took me back to shift work after being away from it for many years. It seems the shift pattern contributes to my health issues in a negative way. I didn't envision returning to work in retirement, but it has been really fun and an awesome opportunity. The best part is I have rekindled some old friendships and forged some wonderful new ones as well.
As a result of the health concerns, I took a sabbatical, and I am working diligently on getting to a place where everyone concerned will see long-term and hopefully permanent positive changes when I return in the fall. Before these issues arose, we had planned on spending our summer holidays back in the Luberon at our village home. My poor health meant that we left Canada a little earlier than expected and have been here for three weeks now. The heat has been a massive shock to the system. Great for vignerons and those harvesting the lavender, but for us mere mortals, it's akin to wearing a sauna suit under a fur coat from about 5 a.m. onwards. You sweat just planning to take your first step in the morning.
In week one of this trip I was joined by a great friend from home who was keen to see the villages he had not yet visited and to enjoy a more relaxed Provencal getaway. His stay was short but really fun nonetheless. We saw some great local places just before the tourists arrived and coupled those visits with wonderful meals to end each day. I was truly sad to see him go.
Deanna & I decided earlier in the year to bring our bikes to France and leave them here. We seem to cycle more here than at home, and with my health and lifestyle goals, it seemed the right thing to do. However, it was not the easiest thing to accomplish. With electric bikes, there are numerous hurdles to jump over to satisfy airlines and shipping companies the batteries are safe to fly. Once you have cleared them all, you have to satisfy customs in France that you are not importing them for sale and therefore profit. If you fail to do so, you are on the hook for import duties and maybe so time in a dark & dank Marseille prison cell.
KLM was our freight airline. With help from my friend Mark, we packaged the bikes and delivered them to the airport. As I waved goodbye to them, I wasn't quite sure if I was watching many thousands of dollars worth of peddles and spokes depart for pastures unknown. If your suitcases can end up in Nigeria when your flight is to Halifax, I assumed the chances were excellent that a couple of Uber Eats delivery riders would be using them for work in Katmandu within the week.
Seven long days later, I received an email saying they had arrived in Marseille. The details of when and how to collect them were clear as mud, so what could go wrong? There was no possible chance of fitting them in our rental Renault Clio. So we drove our rental car to a commercial rental van office in Avignon. It didn't take long to get the lowdown on how to drive a six-speed hightop diesel freight van that was clearly overkill. Sometimes you just have to settle for what’s available.
I was to pilot this behemoth from Avignon to Marseilles on the A7, where the speed limit is 130 KMH, and the crosswinds are angry. I felt like Kermit driving the muppet bus from the get go. But along came Deanna (playing Fozzy) and Hamish, our black lab, which I failed to mention earlier is now also a world traveller (playing himself).
Three of us in the front cab could not even reach an escargot’s pace on the motorway. However, ninety minutes later, we arrived at the holding facility at the airport. An hour after that, I had expended all my French skills and calories trying to convince customs I wasn't a guy trying his best to sneak e-bikes into the country to flip them for profit. Once the bikes were loaded, we began the journey back to the village and then back to Avignon to drop the van and collect the Clio. At one point, I was convinced I could open the door and run beside the truck as we climbed up toward Aix-en-Provence from Marseille. But, again, lots of effort and help from Deanna and Mark back in Victoria, and we were back home wrenching these things back into one piece from their packing boxes. As we were finishing up, one of our French neighbours approached to have a look. He asked about the bikes and where they were built. I replied that my bike was an American brand, and Deanna's was made in Germany. He paused for thought and then told Deanna that she could now easily invade Poland. And so it appears "woke" or P.C. has not yet reached the hilltop villages of Provence!
In the two weeks following, we have enjoyed the company of one of our four sons. Liam is the last of our boys to visit France and has seemed to enjoy every minute of his time here. We have seen numerous local villages, the cities of Avignon, Marseille, St. Tropez, and Nimes. Liam has a good knowledge of wines and has thoroughly enjoyed stopping in at local vineyards to taste and buy his favourites.
He has decided to start his local wine collection and keep his bottles in our cave to be enjoyed and further curated during future visits. We are happy to oblige. Liam and I are heading for Paris in the morning. We will spend my birthday getting our steps in walking around the city of light until he returns to Canada. So tomorrow we are taking the high-speed train from Avignon to Garé de Lyon. I have not been to Paris since March, and for me, it is always an overwhelmingly inspirational place.
You are now up to speed. Again, I apologize for the lack of detail in this one; I promise to up my game in future posts. Just remember, as a newly committed cyclist, I am now one of those guys that hate motor vehicle operators:
I look down on those who don't cycle.
I feel morally superior to all of you who don't avail yourself of human propulsion for transport.
I am yet to adorn myself in head-to-toe lycra, but I am still stylishly outfitted for urban and rural bike travel. Don’t think sock-head hipster on a fixie.
And most importantly, I hold this hugely hypocritic stance only when it pleases me and never when I am behind the wheel of my own rental Renault Clio.
In these circumstances, Deanna and Hamish can attest that I often exhibit the nastiest outbursts of tourette’s. I routinely have to scream "BIKE WANKERS" out of the car window as these Lycra clad TDF wannabes ride two abreast just to slow our roll along these beautiful narrow provencâl back roads.
Please keep in touch by leaving a comment, I love to hear from you.
Live well!
Mark
p.s. Most included photos were taken with the Leica Q2.
Photo Credit Liam
AN UNDERGROUND LAIR TO REMEMBER.
A couple of days ago, we returned to a place that is fast becoming one of our favourite stops for a quick shot of culture. As we all know, culture comes in many forms, but in this particular case, it comes in the form of visual art. Margaret Wolfe Hungerford once said, "art is in the eye of the beholder." Along with past visits to such awe inspiring places as the Accademia, the Uffizi, the L’ouvre, the Tate Modern and the Rijksmuseum, we are beholding to this art.
We love to frequent this venue when we are near Avignon, not just for the exhibits but, frankly, the experience of just being in such an amazing and unique environment. I will provide web links for hows and whys at the end of this post, but for now, I will try to do it some justice from my point of view.
Carrières des Lumières was a once-thriving stone quarry in the village of Les Baux-de-Provence. By the hundreds of thousands, people flock here to visit the village and the ruins of its hilltop chateau built in the 12th and 13th centuries. We were tipped off to this wonder about 7 years ago and are now indebted to those that shared it with us. It can be a challenge to find parking upon arrival, but patience and persistence usually win the day. The whole reason to make an effort to drive the serpentining narrow roads and hunt for parking becomes immediately apparent after your ticket is scanned and you are welcomed into this art lovers Aladin's cave.
You can line up at the door to buy tickets with so many others or purchase them online and arrive and enter without waiting. On your first visit, it is hard to comprehend the scale of this place. Not often have I used the word cavernous for its intended purpose, yet I feel I have it bang on this time. Moving past the entrance into this vast dark space can feel daunting, and I was just a little hesitant on my first visit. However, when the exhibition begins and the music paired with perfection plays, you are cast away to another dimension. It is your choice to find a place to sit or wander to your heart's content. Over the years, we have enjoyed Van Gogh, Kandinsky, Cezanne, & Klein exhibitions, to name a few. Enjoy the collection not once but twice. Maybe take a break for an espresso or glass of wine at the underground cafe and then return to enjoy it again. This experience will live with you, so make sure you get as much of it as possible. I hope there is a time when you get a chance to visit Carrières des Lumières. I would really like to be the one you remember fondly for the tip!
Please leave a comment if you have a moment; I am always happy to hear from you.
Live well!
Mark
Link to the venue. https://www.carrieres-lumieres.com/en
A LUBERON LUNCH.
I have been back in the south of France for nearly a week now. Uncharacteristically, at no time since I arrived have I even thought about taking a camera out from my bag. This trip has been different. This trip has been more about regular meetings with our interior designer and driving from nearby village to nearby village to tour and consider some of her most recent commissions.
A wonderful byproduct of these little adventures has been the opportunity to sample some of the most wonderful local lunchtime cuisine. Each meal has been clearly prepared by a highly skilled and experienced gastronomic professional. As with every Provençal restaurant, the experience begins when you are greeted at the door by the front of house staff. Their smiles, courteousness and impecable manners are exactly what you hope for every time you dine out, no matter where or when. It’s always best to choose your meal by what is suggested by table staff. It seems only a fool (and I have been a fool many times in the past) would fail to accept a suggestion that ensures only the freshest and most in season choices find their way to your table. I hope to find time for my camera later in the week, but for now I leave you with the memories of a late lunch or two.
Going forward, we have a couple of lovely day trips planned. Then on Thursday we take our leave from Bonnieux and travel north from Avignon by train for 36 hours of jam packed fun in Paris. Until then, I wish for your week to be as full and enjoyable as ours hopes to be.
Please leave a short comment if you get a chance. I am very happy to hear from people far and wide!
Live well!
Mark.
THE VENETO.
Venice can be all things to everyone. Look past the sad, tired & sweaty faces. Look past those who think that immersive travel means making sure they get back to the Carnival cruise ship before the buffet closes. Train yourself to ignore the conversations about how much a coffee costs in Saint Mark’s Square. Cleanse your mind of the lemmings wearing audio guides while following blindly in single file behind the walking tour rep with that “shoot me now face”.
Then and only then you will see Venice for what is and not what Venetians fear it has become. In fact, if you focus you will see what the Venetians are desperately trying to restore and protect. This is definitely one of the most beautiful, awe inspiring and unique places on this planet. The people are striking. The sun warms your bones. The food is that of a hybrid, representative of the cultures that have traded, visited and settled at this seafaring crossroads for over a thousand years.
Never take the word of anyone who says it smells bad, it is too expensive, or you have to walk everywhere you want to go. Never trust the lazy. Never trust anyone who dismisses a genuine historical and geographic wonder because they went to the one in Las Vegas and “that was good enough”. No sir, these are the people you immediately ignore after you have sold them what they need. Tupperware, Mary Kay, a K-Tel Patty Stacker, a book by L. Ron Hubbard or swampland in Florida. It’s business not personal! Remember, if they wear camouflage to dinner at Red Lobster and remove “their tooth” before bed, take a wide birth. As a friend recently remarked, “Its all about gratitude” (Thanks Gary!). Be grateful for difference! Embrace change! If you expect where you travel to be the same as where you live, you may be wasting the money you could have spent on a staycation.
Arrive in Venice by train via Santa Lucia Station. Take a Vaperetto to your hotel. Do yourself a favour and stay on one of the islands in the lagoon. Stay on Burano or Murano. Sit canal side and drink an ice cold Peroni. Go to Harry’s bar and have a Bellini on a bar stool that Hemingway once wouldn’t give up until closing time. For more tips about how to leave Venice with no regrets and a return trip already in the planning stages, leave your email address below so you don’t miss the next blog post.
Live well!
Mark
ONLY MAD DOGS & ENGLISHMEN.
I am writing todays blog while hunkered down inside a fully shuttered Provençal village house. Outside, the wind is gusting at a swift measure of knots. This is my first really nasty “Mistral”. Rudyard Kipling was the man responsible for today’s title. It is the passage from his book “Kim” written in 1901 which refers to devils, madness and Englishmen that proved timeless. Kipling’s words later prompted Noël Coward to use them along with going out in the noon day sun as lyrics for his 1931 musical cabaret number. What is left to explain now is why I have stolen it for this tale of misadventure. The simple answer is, yesterday, this Englishman (by birth) felt like a wee bit of a physical challenge. So, just before noon, I put on my bright red wind breaker (more on that later) and left the house on foot bound for the village across the valley. There are several tracks that one can take to get from Bonnieux to Lacoste. Given yesterdays weather, I thought staying off the trails and sticking to the road might be best to keep out of ankle deep mud. Along with wearing the bright red jacket, staying out of the trees was the second life saving decision I made without even realizing it.
I may have mentioned in earlier blogs that it is wild boar hunting season in the Luberon. Unlike back home where the vast majority of hunting goes on far from any population or paved roads, here in France safety does not come first. First comes having enough wine for the after party. Second comes having enough diesel in the white Renault Kangoo mini-van for the hunter, his weapons and a first class lunch. Third and most importantly is having enough mad dogs to scent, chase, and run down these not so elusive Sanglier (wild boar). Now, when I say mad dogs, I don’t mean rabid or distempered, I mean really fucking angry. These dogs have seen how aggressive and offensive these boars can get and what kind of damage their tusks can do when the chips are down.
I was not even 100 meters along the road from Bonnieux when I was nearly run down by a speeding Kangoo. It was not more than 200 meters further when I was deafened by the packs of hunting dogs. I never quite laid eyes on them but they seemed to be moving in the same direction I was. Every 30 seconds or so their incessant barking became quite high pitched. Those changes were typically followed by one or more rifle shots and then moments of silence. The French hunters all wear bright orange. The wild boars are the colour of the bush and scrub. I was thankfully dressed like a shitty dollar store Santa in bright red. Next time I make fun of Donald T. I will have to remember his genius & consider using the orange spray tan myself. It certainly has prevented him from being shot in any wayward hunting accidents.
My return journey was near enough 17 kilometres. For all of it, save my time wandering in a very quiet and coffee free Lacoste, the dogs bayed and gun shots rang out through the valley. I do love Lacoste. The art college and its student galleries. The former home of both the Marquis de Sade and Pierre Cardin is a very cool place. Sadly, both cafes in Lacoste were closed for refurb and I was forced to turn back to Bonnieux through bandit country. This unfortunate decision had to be made much too soon and without even the whiff of a double espresso.
Just over an hour later I was home and stretching. I popped into Apt for a few groceries an hour or so later and returned to use the air fryer to prepare a dinner fit for a survivor. It’s not easy making it across miles of open country under fire. It is these kind of harrowing stories that fill the pages of dozens of books by former SAS commandos. The stuff of Chris Ryan or Andy McNab. I’ve always fancied the life of Ernest Hemmigway. I realize running with the bulls in Pamplona is not even close to briskly walking aside mad dogs in the Luberon, but you have to start somewhere. My last stolen quote from Kipling is as follows, “This is a brief life, but in its brevity it offers us some splendid moments, some meaningful adventures.”.
Please leave a comment if you have a moment.
Live well!
Mark
Here is a link to a recent article regarding hunting in France! https://www.rfi.fr/en/france/20211204-tribute-to-victims-of-hunting-accidents-as-french-senate-begins-inquiry
p.s. all images except the last two taken with the Leica Q2
BONNIEUX, FROM THE ROAD TO LACOSTE
THE TOP CHURCH THROUGH THE TREES.
THE BAT CAVE HAS NEVER LOOKED SO SCRUFFY.
IMAGE BORROWED FROM GOOGLE.
IMAGE BORROWED FROM GOOGLE
GET UP! GET OUT OF BED! THERE’S GONNA BE A CLOUD INVERSION!
This morning I invoked a recently learned life hack I heard on a podcast. Mel Robbins (NO, NOT TONY ROBBINS) said if you are having a hard time motivating yourself to do something, then you should use the 5 second rule. Simply put, just count down from 5. 5-4-3-2-1 and away you go. Your mind commits you at that point to what you want or need to accomplish. Whether you feel lazy or apprehensive, 5-4-3-2-1 tells your brain you have committed. Now this could be psycho-babble but I swear to god it works for me.
This morning at 7:30 it was pitch black outside but I had studied the weather for daybreak and noticed that there may be a decent chance of a cloud inversion in the valley. Sunrise was at 8:10 so I 5-4-3-2-1’d and got to my feet, cleaned up my act and grabbed the camera and tripod. After what happened a few days ago when the fog was thick and I ended up in Maubec, this morning was gonna be a different kettle of fish.
I got as high I could and watched the end of the blue hour give way to golden. I have committed to never let a day pass while I’m here without getting in my 10,000 or more steps. What better way to kick that off this morning than to climb 400 or so stone steps up to the highest point in the village. That slog got me up to the top church, and with that a bird’s eye view of the Luberon Valley. The inversion didn’t last for long but it gave way beautifully to the morning sun trying its hardest to warm stone walls and terracotta roof tiles. The church bells rang on cue for the top of the hour and all I needed was a light sweater given the ambient temperature.
When I came back down into the village below I walked home through the Friday market. Much smaller than during the summer months, but everything you could need was on hand in the way of fresh vegetables, meat, fish and cheese. Even my favourite carpet and pillow cover salesman was set up for business. He spotted me coming from a distance and was on me like white on rice to show off his new wares. What he really wanted to know was where Deanna was, because she loves to pay retail!
Tonight brings New Years eve but most of the local restaurants are closed. Good and bad really. For those that felt like an extremely good meal, must now take on those duties themselves. On the other hand, it becomes a great opportunity to enjoy your family with a special meal in front of the fire at home. As I am in the “all by my lonesome camp” on this trip, a night at an extremely good restaurant was what the doctor ordered. Oh well, a selection of local sausage and goat cheeses will suffice and obviously pair well with a spot of local red. I will more than likely be fast asleep hours before midnight ticks over to 2022 anyway. I am not sure what this afternoon will bring but it will require a ton of walking to get me over the daily line. Here are a few early morning images captured while up high searching for low cloud. Happy New Year from Bonnieux! All the best in 2022..
Live well.
Mark
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