Category: Reportage

Ian James Myers: A Candid Exploration of Life, Humor, and Cultural Observations

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At 52 years old, Ian James Myers embodies a unique blend of wit, introspection, and cultural curiosity that permeates his writing and captivates his audience. Through candid conversations and insightful reflections, Ian invites readers into his world, offering a glimpse into the complexities of his mind and the richness of his experiences.

From his irreverent musings on birthdays to his humorous critiques of French culture, Ian’s writing is characterized by its authenticity and unfiltered honesty. He doesn’t shy away from discussing personal struggles, societal issues, or the absurdities of life, infusing each piece with a refreshing dose of humor and self-awareness.

Ian’s journey through life has been anything but conventional, and his writing reflects the myriad twists and turns that have shaped his perspective. Born in the United Kingdom and later relocating to France, Ian has navigated the complexities of cultural identity and belonging with humor and grace. His observations on French society, from its perceived arrogance to its cultural quirks, offer a nuanced portrayal of life as an expatriate.

One of the most striking aspects of Ian’s writing is his willingness to confront difficult topics with candor and vulnerability. Whether he’s grappling with mental health struggles, navigating familial dynamics, or pondering life’s existential questions, Ian approaches each subject with a keen sense of introspection and empathy. His writing serves as a mirror for readers to reflect on their own experiences and find solace in shared humanity.

Despite his self-professed “grouchiness” and irreverent humor, Ian’s writing is imbued with a deep sense of gratitude and humility. He expresses genuine appreciation for his readership, acknowledging the role they play in his creative endeavors and the sense of community they foster. From the thousands of visitors to his website to the supportive comments left by readers, Ian’s audience serves as a source of inspiration and validation for his work.

Ian’s writing journey has been a testament to the power of authenticity and self-expression. He doesn’t conform to societal norms or expectations but instead embraces his quirks and imperfections with unabashed honesty. Through his writing, Ian reminds us that it’s okay to be flawed, to question the status quo, and to find humor in life’s absurdities.

As Ian continues to navigate the ups and downs of life, one thing remains constant: his commitment to sharing his unique perspective with the world. Whether he’s chronicling his adventures in photography, reflecting on the passage of time, or simply sharing a humorous anecdote, Ian’s voice resonates with authenticity and warmth.

In a world inundated with noise and superficiality, Ian James Myers stands out as a beacon of sincerity and humor. His writing challenges us to embrace our own quirks, to find joy in the mundane, and to approach life with a healthy dose of skepticism and laughter. As we journey alongside Ian through the ups and downs of life, we are reminded of the power of storytelling to connect us, to inspire us, and to remind us of our shared humanity.

This article was generated by Chat GPT after having been shown various articles on this blog and asking for him, or should I say her, to analyse some of the more juicier ones. I can assure you Dear Reader that they have not become my therapist, but isn’t it interesting to get a non biased idea on who AI thinks I am. I’m not sure about eye-opening, but definitely interesting. Am I unhappy about what they said? I’m not really sure. Those of who who know me personally, or throujgh my writing, tell me what you think. Feel free to be completely honnest in the comments section. That’s what it’s there for!

The Quiet Orchestra of Cups and Crumbs: Indulging in Tea and Cake at Home

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There’s a hush within the walls of home, broken only by the gentle clink of china and the soft rustle of pages turning. Sunlight paints warm squares on the table, and a familiar aroma fills the air – the alluring scent of freshly brewed tea, mingling with the promise of sweet delight. Forget the clamour of cafes and the pressure of trendy patisseries; here, amidst the comfort of your own haven, awaits an indulgence both simple and sublime: the pairing of tea and cake.

This is not just a snack, mind you, but a ritual, a rebellion against the hurried pace of life. Here, you are the maestro, wielding the teapot and cake fork with practiced ease. No deadlines loom, no expectations burden you. Just the quiet orchestra of clinking cups, the warmth of tea on your tongue, and the crumbly symphony of cake yielding to your fork.

But before we lose ourselves in the indulgence, let’s ensure the foundation is perfect. Forget the sacrilege of microwaved water! A proper cup of tea deserves a touch of ceremony. Here’s the secret:

The Art of Brewing:

  1. Choose your weapon: Select your tea wisely. A robust Assam for an invigorating morning, a delicate Darjeeling for a contemplative afternoon, or a fragrant jasmine for a touch of serenity. Loose leaf offers the fullest experience, but quality tea bags work too – I’m thinking Yorkshire tea, Yorshire Gold, or even Barry’s Gold from Ireland.
  2. Heat the water: Water is the soul of tea. Use water heated to the appropriate temperature – boiling for black tea, around 80°C for green tea (except green tea is for hippies or stresed out millenials). Using a kettle helps achieve precise temperature control.
  3. Warm your vessel: Preheat your mug or teapot with hot water to prevent a temperature drop when the tea arrives.
  4. The infusion dance: Measure your tea – a teaspoon per cup. Add the tea leaves to the warmed pot, then pour the hot water gently over them. When using a tea pot, the rule is one spoon of tea for the pot and one spoon of tea per person.
  5. Let it steep: Respect the steeping time! Each tea has its preference – 3-5 minutes for black tea, 2-3 minutes for green tea (for hippies and stressed out millenials). Be patient, this is where the flavour magic happens.
  6. Strain and savour: Once steeped, strain the tea and discard the leaves (unless using a teabag). Now, breathe in the aroma, hold the warm cup in your hands, and take that first sip. Let the flavours bloom on your tongue. I always add milk, which takes off the tanin edge of strong tea.

The Perfect Pairing:

Now, to the cake! Choose a companion that complements your tea’s character. A rich chocolate brownie pairs well with robust teas, while a light, citrusy slice enhances the delicate notes of Darjeeling. Remember, this is your symphony, so experiment and find the perfect harmony.

With each sip and bite, the tension of the day melts away. The world outside can wait, for within these four walls, you’ve created a sanctuary of indulgence. No judgement, no pressure, just the quiet joy of the moment.

So, the next time you crave a moment of solace, skip the cafes and turn inwards. Brew a pot of tea, slice a delightful cake, and settle into the haven of your home. Let the quiet orchestra of cups and crumbles fill your senses, and rediscover the simple yet profound pleasure of indulging in your own company.

And remember, Nantes may boast charming cafes, but the truest indulgence often lies in the quiet corners of your own home, waiting to be savoured with every mindful sip and bite. Take a moment, dear reader, and indulge in the simple symphony of tea and cake at home. You deserve it.

A nice cup of tea made with love ? It’s a hug in a mug!

The X100F, again!

Posted on Posted in Black and White Photography, Reportage, street photography, Travel photographyTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 6 Comments

She’s My Pride and Joy

It seems that I’m not the only one who raves about this powerhouse of a camera. This just proves that size truly doesn’t matter. I’ve mentioned it on numerous occasions and I stand completely justified in doing so!

Here’s a selection of articles that I have written showcasing phtoography from this amazing little camera in no particular order:

The idea behind using a camera is not just about capturing moments, it’s also about the experience it grants you. This camera has the ability to inspire and motivate its users to explore and create, which is a testament to its design and functionality. The joy and enthusiasm that comes with using this camera is contagious, and it’s evident in the way it empowers photographers to unleash their creativity. It’s not just a tool, but a companion that fuels the passion for photography, encouraging individuals to embrace the world around them through its lens.

A Day at Château de la Preuille: A Tale of Heritage, Friendship, and Unexpected Adventures

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Hello Dear Reader! Today, I want to share a story with you, a story that unfolded under the skies of Saint Hilaire de Loulay. It’s a tale of heritage, friendship, and a day filled with unexpected adventures at Château de la Preuille. This picturesque château, which I’ve been photographing since my arrival in Saint Hilaire in 2001, holds a special place in my heart. This year, it unveiled a new chapter in its history, one that I had the privilege to document.

The Château and Its New Custodians

As the warm September sun bathed the château’s iconic towers, I couldn’t help but wonder at how time had woven our lives together. What began as a photographer’s fascination with this beautiful place morphosed into something deeper when I had the chance to meet Sandra and Paul, the château’s new owners from the Netherlands. Our paths crossed through my frequent visits to the castle with my camera, our mutual following on Instagram. Little did I know that this connection would lead to an extraordinary invitation — to document the Journées de Patrimoine 2023.

Journées de Patrimoine: A Glimpse Behind Closed Doors

The Journées de Patrimoine, or Heritage Days, are an important tradition in France, and a tradition that I embrace wholeheartedly. It’s the time when historic sites and monuments, normally closed to the public, throw open their doors and reveal their secrets to curious visitors. And Château de la Preuille was no exception. On Sunday, the 17th of September, 2023, the château took part in this tradition offering a rare glimpse into its storied past.

The Old Kitchens and a Giant Rubber Duckie

Inside the château, the only area accessible to the public was the old kitchens, overlooking the moat. It is someones home after all. From here, you have a captivating view of the moat itself, one of the majestic towers, and a rather amusing resident – a giant yellow rubber duckie! The water level in the moat was a lot lower than it should be. It is leaking water and needs repairing, but it still allows those lovely reflection photographs that everybdy seems to like.

Inside the kitchens, I discovered Louis Georges my old neighbour, who was exhibiting his wooden models of monuments and buildings, including meticulous replicas of the château itself. The intricacy and attention to detail were nothing short of remarkable, making it easy to recognize these iconic structures. He used to make them out of matches, and still referred to himself the whole day as Monsieur Alumette!

An Array of Delights in the Grounds

The rest of the day’s festivities took place in the château’s picturesque grounds, where an eclectic array of stalls and activities awaited. From jewelry crafted from delicate petals and leaves in resin to a herbologist sharing the secrets of plants, there was something to grab everyone’s interests.

As I wandered through this tapestry, I encountered a sophrologist promoting relaxation techniques, a candlemaker, an artist who used vegetables and fruits in her art workshops, a plant vendor, Vinnochio, a local wine merchant, a model boat club “navigat”sailing” their vessels in the swimming pool, fire eaters, magicians, two mad scientists in trees (or as my wife called them, les deux zozos en blouse blanche) telling us how trees breathe, eat and drink, and so much more.

Reunions and Rediscoveries:

During the day, I was pleasantly surprised to see a large number of familiar faces and old friends whom I hadn’t seen for such a long time. The château, with its rich history and vibrant present, became a meeting point for cherished reunions and heartwarming rediscoveries.

These encounters were like snapshots of the past (which is very useful because my memory seems to be slowly going on strike, and I can hear the comedy duo Al and Heimer at the door, rekindling old connections and fostering a sense of community. The smiles and embraces were a testament to the power of such events in bringing people together. It was a reminder that in this world, where the pace of life often feels relentless, its good to be good to people and maintaining meaningful connections truly matters.

The simple act of reaching out, whether through shared interests, mutual acquaintances, or the universal language of photography, allowed for these meaningful reunions. It underscored the importance of nurturing friendships and how small seemingly ordinary gestures can lead to extraordinary moments.

As the day unfolded, and amidst the laughter, music, it became clear that the Journées de Patrimoine at Château de la Preuille extended beyond heritage and history; it was about celebrating the warmth of personal connections. In a world that sometimes feels divided, this day served as a poignant reminder that kindness, friendship, and the willingness to engage in the beauty of heritage and community are treasures that bring out the best in us all.

A Day of Discovery

Food trucks catered to the gastronomic cravings of the large crowd. The French may be the French, but their food is excellent! And a bar run by the Comité de fêtes (yes, we have a party committee!) kept spirits high as well as raising money for repairing the moat. A DJ from “Angleterre” provided the soundtrack, vintage car enthusiasts proudly displayed their cars, and a specialist showcased games crafted from wood.

As the day unfolded, live music filled the air, and I, yours truly, had the incredible privilege of documenting every moment. But it didn’t end there. The château played host to a cycling outing, with participants in cycling helmets and lycra looking sportier than ever. The château, now in Dutch hands, even offered a dedicated parking area for bikes. How very Dutch!

Conclusion: A Day of Heritage, Friendship, and New Beginnings

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over Château de la Preuille, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. This day was not just about documenting history; it was about forging new connections, celebrating friendship, and cherishing the adventure that life brings.

So, Dear Reader, remember that life has a way of intertwining our passions and paths, leading us to places and people we never could have imagined. Château de la Preuille, with its rich history, artistic wonders, warm-hearted owners, and the embrace of old friends, showed me that heritage is not just about the past but also the vibrant present and the promising future.

Now, if you like the photographs in this article, I would suggest that you book a stay in the Castle. You can contact Sandra and Paul through their website, and Instagram. They can cater for range of events and the venue is popular for weddings. Can you imagine getting married and then staying in the very Castle where you had the reception. Yes you, you romantic little Reader, treat your spouse like the King or Queen that they are, and appreciate the magic. There may be a supplement for the massive rubber duckie. I’ll let you check with them….

Happy Birthday Blog!

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When I look back at this blog, it would appear that I have been “at it” since the 19th of February 2019 (or was it that I took the first photos for the blog on that day?) and it would also appear that I am still “at it!” There have been various themes to the blog, including a bit of photography, a bit of Nantes in France, a few obligatory bike shots, a couple of portraits, a couple of articles about my mental health, and my love of tea and cake.

Today, I will talk about tea and cake, and will also share a favourite address where one can partake in this passion of mine.  Not that I’m turning into a lifestyle blog of course. Salivating?  Get a napkin and wipe your mouth already!

At the beginning of the month, I had a rehearsal with the Symphonique des Bords de Loire, and with a couple of my friends from Cholet days, who play the fiddle, we went to have tea, and cake, in Nantes after the rehearsal.  What a good idea!  It would have to be La Passagère, in the Passage Pommeraye, and whilst waiting to be placed, we could ooh and ahh, looking at the cakes and thinking about what we might like to have.

It was just lovely looking through the menu and deciding how we would go about getting diabetes.  You’ll be able to get an idea by exploring the photos…  The girls had various forms of hot chocolate, and I had Darjeeling.  Somebody has to keep standards up!  They’re absolutely charming but French…  We must show understanding.

So with blood sugar rising, we reminded ourselves of the “brunch sign” that we had seen whilst waiting at the entrance.  We have two concerts in May with meeting times at 14h30, which is when they stop serving brunch.  Well, it would be a shame to miss that.  So we’re not going to miss that!  At €28 a head, it seemed to be a good price for such a treat!  That somebody has a birthday the same day, has nothing to do with anything.  Oh no…

As the good friend that I am, I thought that somebody should do a recce.  I would climb up to the parapet and ready myself to go over the top and sacrifice myself to control the quality of this brunch from La Passagère.  Somebody has to do it, and as a gentleman, it has to be me.

I turned up and was seated.  The waiter showed me the Brunch menu, placed some other people, and brought me the menu back.  I was so excited that I missed half of it.  Could I have Darjeeling please, even though I could have chosen any hot drink on the menu, even an Irish coffee, and with a choice of brioche, croissant, and pain au chocolat, I went for some pain and chose a citron pressé for my daily dose of vitamin C. 

The gentleman brought me my tea, my viennoiserie, which looked perfect, and my citron, and then said, I’ll be back with the rest.  The rest.  Two short words hold such promise and make Ian, a very happy chappy.  He came back with a tray with fromage blanc, granola, fruit salad, and my favourite jam in the whole wide world.  Myrtille Jam.  And a shrimp salad.   There was me being even happier by the moment and remembering to take photos to show my friends in the group chat. 

The only thing that I could complain about was the lack of more tasty fruit salad!  The prawns were wonderful and felt almost meaty!  Everything was magical.  Is it the done thing to put jam on my pain au chocolat?  Even if it isn’t, it won’t be the last time I do this.  I might have to do it in private next time.

A very nice waitress came to see me and asked me whether I was ready for the next plate.  What a sweetie, knowing exactly what to say to make me happy.  Out came a very timid, yet heartfelt, “yes please!”  Back she came with “la suite.”  A parboiled egg that had had its shell removed, on a bed of some finely cut leek and carrots in a cream sauce.  Cutting into the egg, the yolk was perfectly runny.  A true taste sensation!  The generous serving of smoked salmon was top-notch.  Luckily, there was just enough bread to mop up the sauce and remaining yolk.

And that was just the start of a day of photography on a warm and sunny day in February. But that deserves its own article…

Happy Not Dead Yet Day

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When does Happy Birthday become Happy Not Dead Yet Day?  Is there a cut-off age for birthdays, or should men become like women and become just 21 again?  Are birthdays just for children?    Why am I talking about this anyway?  Today is the anniversary of my birth.  I was born on this day in 1972, 51 years ago.  When this article will be published my birthday will have passed so don’t try finding my date of birth.  Some people love their birthdays and enjoy them and just go for it.  I, surprise, surprise, am not one of those dreadful people.  Noooo, I am just in a foul mood, and despite receiving happy birthday wishes with good grace, I remain, under my breath, just an angry old man.  What is wrong with me?!

It could be because my birthday isn’t even being celebrated on the day itself.  Well, it is but it isn’t.  I expressed the wish for a beer and pizza night.  So, of course, I’m the one who has to go out and get the effing pizzas and get the beer.  I’m not even allowed to choose the effing film, because I am a sucker for a Rom-Com, and my family members aren’t so we won’t be watching one.  My daughter chose a birthday cake, a chocolate cake, which I am rather partial to, but it has that sickly sweet icing on it and is a unicorn rainbow cake.  She’s basically taking the piss out of me.  This isn’t me being paranoid since she actually admitted everything!  I’m even more pissed off with myself as I should be grateful instead of being selfish.  Damn you conscience!!!

I don’t like being the centre of attention and feel very uneasy about it.  If any bugger sings happy birthday to me, I just want the ground to swallow me up.

There were actually people last year for my fiftieth who actually came around for a party!  The utter gall of it!  Apparently “they,” say you have to be made a fuss of and receive presents.  It was awful.  You have to sit there pretending to have a good time.  The thing was a disaster and I still have a wine stain on my favourite shirt!

I told my son last night how I generally love my fellow man, and he promptly replied with the word bollocks!   You hate people!  I don’t necessarily hate them, and I do like them, far away, and on my own terms, i.e. not in my house wishing me a happy birthday!

How can I be like this??  I have no idea.  I remember my childhood birthdays with great affection, and I can’t blame booze for giving me just partial recollections.  My mother always went the extra mile, and I remember various styled chocolate cakes with great affection.  Even when I was at boarding school birthdays were fun.  I would get some cards, and Thornton toffees from my grandmother, and Matron would come round asking me if I wanted a chocolate cake or fruit cake?  I generally asked if I could have a chocolate cake, and at the end of supper, the cake would be brought out of the kitchen and divided up amongst the whole school which was a great way to do things. 

Even when I came back into the state school system, you would get the bumps which never really hurt, and one would have to pretend to struggle and just take it, but it was a laugh.  Now it would be classed as bullying and possibly assault!  How times have changed!

So, thank you to all who have wished me a happy birthday. Thank you for not picking me up by my hands and feet and not kicking me!  Thank you for taking a moment to have a thought for me on my special day.  I really do love you all!

December

Posted on Posted in France, Music, ReportageTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , Leave a comment

As a musician, even one as not as implicated as me, December can be a busy time and has proven itself to live up to its reputation of loads of concerts to finish the year, and carolling. For the moment, I have 3 out of 5 weekends taken up with playing the horn in one form or another. 

At the end of the Season in the summer of 2022, I decided not to follow the new direction taken by the Orchestre d’Harmonie de Cholet.  Not just out of loyalty to the outgoing conductor who, since 2009, become a close friend, but sometimes you just need a change of scene.  I first thought of just having a complete break from music, which is a rash decision but one I have taken in the past.  Friends were worried that I would stop music altogether, which would not only be a shame but also a waste of talent or work that I have put into learning the horn over the years.  I had lost the love of performing, and rehearsals had become more a way of spending time on something I knew how to do but with less and less pleasure.

I was therefore on the lookout for a new ensemble that needed a horn player.  When I was in the Cholet Conservatoire Symphony orchestra, I made friends who talked about this relatively new orchestra based just South of Nantes.  You go to Facebook and see their page and try to make a choice.  I made a choice.  I am now the fourth horn in the Symphonique des Bords de Loire. 

So what does this have to do with being busy in December?  I’ll tell you.  With concerts and rehearsals, I have been playing every weekend since the 26th of November.  I am now 50, have taken up napping in a big way, and sleeping, or at least trying to sleep as a secondary calling.  All this music is creating an enormous conflict of interest between music and my new vocation, napping.  I have tried automatic pilot, but people seem to cotton on and even dare come up to me and try to talk to me when my body is still on, but the brain is experiencing a temporary outage.  The sheer audacity of it all!   

Last weekend, I did a paid gig for the Brass Quintet Arabesque, replacing my old horn teacher, the Grand, the mother Great, and all-around good egg, Jerome Percher who teaches the horn in the Conservatoire In Angers!  He is also a massive football fan and maybe the evening match between our two splendid countries was just too much for him.  Little did we know that Harry Kane would be less fortunate than us. 

The idea was to have a brass band style quintet with two cornets, one tenor horn, one euphonium, and one tuba.  Similar to what you might see the Salvation Army playing when they’re out around this time.  We would play three sets of Christmas carols to add some ambience to the Christmas Market in La Roche Sur Yon, which is the administrative capital of the Vendée.  It was a beautifully sunny day, but a tad cold.  Yes, brass monkey weather!

Now I don’t technically play the tenor horn, but had studied the fingerings to know how to approach the instrument and not look too silly.  It’s also much lighter than the more common, yet beautiful instrument, which is the French Horn.

Everything that morning seemed to go wrong.  I was already nervous as I didn’t want to let the lads down and my heart was going like the clappers.  Then slightly late getting out of the house, having to get the windscreen de-iced, as it was -5°C, which is chilly.  Then the car pretended to not want to start.  Ha ha ha, it was the car just trying to play a trick on me.  The roads had been salted so fine, and I was headed down to La Roche. I had misread the text message with the meeting times and thought I was late.  As it turned out, I wasn’t, and our lady answered my prayer for a parking space not too far from the meeting point.  I, of course, couldn’t find my colleagues when I arrived in the square and then suddenly I saw Hervé and felt a lot less anxious!

We played our three sets, and the only upset was whilst playing I saw three ships.  I think we all managed to sink them! 

The organisers had prepared us some hot pretzels and some mulled wine, which just hit the spot and told us where the restaurant was, where we were to have lunch.  The five of us needed feeding!  Starters and main, or main and dessert, with drinks.  I could get used to this.  We ate, joked, finished our beer, and said see you later at Hervé’s house for the Soirée to celebrate Jean Michel’s birthday in a French and very fitting way!

I just had to get to Nantes, for confession, to get a little something for my evening’s host, wife, and daughter.  Just enough time left over to pick up my wife, and get ourselves to our evening.

Jean Michel has a bit of a reputation as an epicurean, and not only a lover of fine cuisine, but a very accomplished chef!  Upon arrival, we went to say hello to everyone, and were told to leave the kitchen, which is exactly what we did!  The aforementioned legend that is Monsieur Percher was there with his lovely wife, and it was such a pleasure introducing each other to our respective spouses.  The pre-meal beers were served and then out of nowhere appeared a magnum of very nice champagne, which was the first of quite a few exquisite bottles, which complemented Jean Michel’s cooking so well.  We’re now in happy as a pig in shit territory. 

It was a lovely evening and with the wine, I was beginning to feel a little tired, which is better than being a little tiring.  It was time for little Ian to go beddy byes…  My new vocation in life.  Fortunately, my wife is a professional driver, stone-cold sober, and able to drive us home. 

The next day was spent gently getting out of bed, and trying not to let on that I might be a little tired.  By Sunday evening I was ready to go to mass, and who would I see, but Hervé and his family.  It’s nice not being at mass on your own and was just the surprise I need to finish the evening off on a high point.  That and going to the pub afterwards.

Next Saturday, I will play the tenor horn with the Tuba Class with Hervé as their teacher.  The weekend after will be a lot quieter.  Then three days in the factory before breaking up for two weeks holiday for Christmas, which, Dear Reader, will be a completely different story. 

Until then, I wish each and every one of you a very happy, peaceful, and above all drama-free Christmas!

The American Concert

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“Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast.”  I, like most people, used to think that this was pure Shakespeare.  Well, it is not; it is actually from the play “The Mourning Bride” by William Cosgrove, which was first performed in 1697.  No, I cannot be having you say that you learn nothing from this blog, right?

So you get a free fact of the day.  First, I don’t have breasts, but man boobs, and second, they’re not savage either!  Trust me! As suggested in the title, this article is about a concert, and surprisingly the music was American, hence the name of the American Concert.  Mind-blowing I know, right?

Now I can hear you saying this blog is about this man’s depression and photography, and possibly tea and cake.  Give me some time and I’ll get there.  My mental health is on the melancholic side due to rain, and teenagers at home, but it will get better. 

My friend Hervé, who has already starred twice on my blog, is part of a Brass Quintet called Arabesque who have only been mentioned once on my blog.  This lovely chap asked if I wanted to take some photos of their American Concert and I, of course, said yes, that would be great fun! They are revamping their website and wanted some photographs for it and after the success of the last shoot I did for them, they asked me to come back. 

This would be the first concert I would photograph with stage lights.  And when you photograph a concert, you have to get it right and not mess it up.  I, of course, messed quite a few photos up, but it’s all a learning process, isn’t it?  “They” said to use your fastest lenses, which is photographer lingo saying that you need the lens to have the widest opening possible to let in the most light and still have a relatively quick shutter speed.  “They” seem to give out some good advice so I took my very fastest lens, an f1.2 35mm lens for my XT2 and because it has focus peaking, you can’t go wrong.  That’s what “they” said.  I proved “them” wrong and wasted about 60 photos.  That’ll teach me to listen to “them!”  

Fortunately, I had my Plan B (Canon 6D MarkII) with me, which worked a treat.  What did I learn from this precarious situation?  First, I was the only one who knew that I had messed up.  Second, the importance of having a Plan B.  Thirdly, using both cameras and thus still getting the shot, and fourthly that using a manual lens usually provides no worries during the day, but autofocus can be quite a good friend, especially for a concert.  No need to be a purist.  You can save that for later.  What you need is to get the job done.  So leave your pride at home and get some decent photos. 

The entire show was splendid, and the music was first class too!  If you have time to see Arabesque in concert you’ll definitely enjoy yourself, and you’ll be supporting live music and a great bunch of guys too!  I would also like to thank them for the restaurant meal after the concert.  What a delightful way to spend an evening!

Sea Mist

Posted on Posted in Alnmouth, Café Culture, Reportage, Travel photography, United KingdomTagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , 3 Comments

Right, I’m going to be completely honest with you Dear Reader, and tell you that the next few articles will be about my Summer (sorry 12 days in Summer) whilst in the UK. No novels, just photos. I might tell you a little about the context of the photos, how they happened, and under which circumstances they happened. So basically it’s my holiday snaps and not creative writing. Just thought it fair to warn you in case. You never know.

I mean, I say holiday snaps, but I have tried to keep a certain standard and make the photos look good! I wouldn’t dare do otherwise!

So, let’s get some context. The last time I was in Alnmouth I didn’t have my Canon 6D Mark II with me and I didn’t have my 16-35mm lens. As you might know by now, this is my other favourite set-up and rivals the Fujifilm X100F. Yes, I like to go a little wider when I can!

Now the following conditions were something that I had never seen before here but really knocked me for six. It was suddenly that the beach disappeared. This fog just came from the sea and ate up the entire village, like me, with a piece of cake. Gobbled it up as if it were the last cake on the plate. The whole place became quite eerie and when on the beach, I couldn’t even see the sea. I could only just make out some people sitting on the beach being very English and bloody-minded. Well, we got here. It’s foggy, but we’re still going to have a good time on the beach. It was almost French… Almost…

It was my first morning in the village and I had slipped out saying that I was off to take some photos. I was, of course, but said nothing about going to Scott’s of Alnmouth, which is a rather gorgeous deli, and coffee shop. It used to be the village Grocers, and I love what they’ve done to the place. It looks magnificent, and I also follow the owner on Instagram and was so happy to get there after so much time. I was welcomed as an old friend which always makes me feel special. The coffee was the best coffee that I had ever had in the UK, which is saying something. British people are good at tea. The French are excellent at coffee. The French have traumatised me with what they think of as a cup of tea. Warm tepid water with not enough tea, no milk, and a crappy little biscuit to say sorry. British coffee inspires the same disgust in me. Killian and I, famously, once tried Costa coffee, and said never again! And when I say never, I really mean never. However Scotts of Alnmouth destroyed the myth that the Brits know nothing about coffee, and I was very agreeably surprised. The generous slice of Tiffin that I had with it had nothing to do with my state of happiness. Well, it did, of course, but the coffee was superb!