I am glad to report that today was a lot more successful than the day before. New Year, New Me? Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. After a good night’s sleep, I was feeling almost human and Corentin explained last night’s quid pro quo. Phones without batteries, people calling me and I must have been on “do not disturb mode.’ The girls asked why I hadn’t called them too, as they would have said where they were. Look, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter, except it did matter, but there was nothing I could do about it. Can’t change the past, it’s too late, can’t change the future, it hasn’t happened yet, so live in the present moment. Probably a better idea to try and make the best of the day as humanly possible.
Today’s trip by bus, leaving at midday, was a welcome change. The next town was only 40 miles away, which made the journey feel entirely manageable—and, more importantly, it gave me the time I needed to move my little booty and try and find something for Kilian. He had asked me for cooking chopsticks and I thought I would bring back some nicer model like the ones we had been using in restaurants during the trip. Corentin told me about his visit to the market just down the road, and gave me directions that even I could follow. With my suitcase packed I was off camera in hand, and with a sense of renewed confidence.
On the way I crossed paths with Anne, one of the percussionists who wanted to go and get some Chinese bowls like the ones we had been using in the restaurants but knew exactly what she was after. So off we both went to the market. I’m going to use a phrase that I used on Foshan. A “joyeux bordel!” The market was on the ground floor of a building that rose about as high as our expectations. So pretty high. As you will see in the photos there was stuff everywhere and each shop looked as if it morphed into the next one. If you had ever wanted to start a restaurant business, they could cater for every single one of your needs. They had stoves, kitchen tools, woks of all shapes and sizes, cookers designed specifically for woks. All kinds of crockery to put said food into and serve it to your guests. I could hardly believe my eyes. You could buy sound systems, display cabinets, even those electric Mahjong tables that we saw in Shenzhen. It was extraordinary, and it was full of people buying and selling. Everyone back home always decries the made in China, but over 1billion people be wrong? I was very impressed by the whole thing, and seeing things that we I thought of my son straight away who, like me, is a bit of a foodie and who loves cooking. All we really need is somebody who loves doing the washing up afterwards and we’d be onto a winner…
We both managed to find what we were looking for so all in all today was turning out much better than the previous night’s fiasco. This success and eventual pleasing my son just put me in a positive mood for the day. I got back to the hotel room to pick up my case and instrument and stow away my latest additions to the family cooking utensils. And it was sunny ,and it was a relief to feel something fresh, something clear. What more could you ask for? It felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
The change in mood from the night before was undeniable—subtle but meaningful. After a rough start, today was a quiet triumph. Finding the market, picking out those perfect cooking chopsticks for Kilian, and stepping into the sunshine felt like small victories, but they added up to something more significant. It wasn’t a grand transformation, but it was enough to shift my outlook for the day.
New Year, new me? Maybe. But I’m taking things one step at a time. For now, I’ll settle for the fact that, for once, things felt a little more bearable. And in a world that so often feels overwhelming, that, in itself, is enough. Sometimes it’s the smallest wins—the unexpected moments of clarity—that make the biggest difference.
As the bus carried us to the next town, I didn’t know what the rest of the day would bring. But, for once, there was a quiet sense of relief—small steps that didn’t feel like setbacks. It wasn’t a grand victory, but for today, it was enough. Sometimes, it’s the smallest wins that make all the difference.
Welcome back to China, Dear Reader. First, let me tell you a little about Shenzhen to set the scene. It’s massive—really massive. Just across the bay is Hong Kong, which we handed back in 1997. Yes, we actually gave back a colony! It can happen. Shenzhen used to be Hong Kong’s poorer sibling, standing in its shadow. But China had bigger plans, determined to create a statement city to rival Hong Kong. Now, Shenzhen is home to 17 million people, boasting every modern convenience imaginable, even a higher GDP than Hong Kong.
The first thing I noticed here was the relative tidiness of the electric mopeds compared to Foshan. They were everywhere but parked neatly in rows, a small yet striking difference. We were staying near the UK China International College, which felt a little like home and looked rather grand. Across the road was a McDonald’s—a far nicer one than the ones in Nantes. I couldn’t help but wonder if visiting a McDonald’s in Shenzhen feels as novel to locals as Chinese restaurants do to us back home. Watching children celebrate their birthdays there was a joy. I promised myself I’d stop by later to experience it properly—but that, Dear Reader, will be for another time.
On the road from Foshan to Shenzhen, our organiser, Yuan Yuan, asked if we wanted to join an excursion on our first full day here. It included visiting a village—a sort of condensed version of China—and a park with miniature monuments from across the country. All for 25 euros. As a slightly introverted person, the idea of being stuck on a bus with a group filled me with dread. Oh heavens, no! I decided to opt out and spend the day enjoying some alone time, exploring the city, and indulging in street photography—a much-needed mental reset.
I’m not much for breakfasts, so I sipped my tea quietly, savouring every drop, alone, in my room. Tea—a hug in a mug. Much like chicken soup for the Jews: it might not cure anything, but it never hurts. I quietly prepared for the day, ticking off my morning routine. Triple S, of course, minus the smoke—it’s been 26 years since I quit. Feeling reasonably presentable, I headed down to the lobby to absorb the city’s atmosphere.
The first thing that struck me was the mild, sunny climate. It felt like a Northumberland summer, but in the middle of winter. Invigorating! As I stepped outside, I spotted one of the double bass players in the hotel shop. Should I avoid him and enjoy some me time? I hesitated but ended up joining him on a bench. He offered me a cookie, which was gladly accepted with the good grace with which it was offered. We chatted about nothing in particular, enjoying the weather—two blokes, passing the time of day.
Later, Michel, my walking companion for the morning, decided it was time to move out. I warned him I’d stop often to take photos, and he was happy to wait. The night before, my wife had remarked that while my photos were great, she’d like to see some in colour. Oh really? Challenge accepted.
We strolled at a leisurely pace—perfect for soaking in the city’s atmosphere and capturing its essence through my lens. Michel patiently waited as I darted around, snapping shots like a dog owner indulging their pup’s curious sniffs. I was content to get my daily paces in while immersing myself in Shenzhen’s charm, the perfect start to a day of exploration.
We arrived back at the hotel, and I was starting to feel slightly peckish. What more could I need than a visit to McDonald’s to help me out? Two of the lads had been there the night before and shared their thoughts about everything—the similarities and differences. I just had to go and see for myself. I ordered a double Filet-O-Fish, a bamboo and chicken wrap, a large coke, crinkle-cut chips, and an Oreo McFlurry. It cost me a grand total of 75 yuan, which seemed very reasonable. The lads hadn’t enjoyed the wrap much, but I found it to be delicious, and it really hit the spot. At least a four out of five for me!
Stuffed full of McDonald’s and pleased with my morning’s wandering, I made my way back to the hotel, ready for a short rest before heading out again. Shenzhen by day had been a pleasant surprise—neatly parked mopeds, familiar-yet-different fast food, and a city that felt both vast and oddly welcoming.
But Shenzhen by night? That was something else entirely. The streets lit up with neon, the air thick with the scent of street food sizzling away on open grills. Couples strolling, friends gathered around hotpot tables, and electric mopeds whizzing past, their riders silent but swift. The city didn’t slow down—it just changed gear.
With my camera in hand and my curiosity still buzzing, a whole group of us stepped back outside. Time to see what Shenzhen had to offer after dark.
Operation Shenzhen Nights was about to be launched…
Now, you might think of accusing Uncle Ian of feeling a little delicate this morning after the previous evening’s “fun,” but I’m going to disappoint you. My head did not feel as if it had gone through 10 rounds with a certain Mr Tyson, though I will admit to feeling a little tired. Slightly less bright-eyed and bushy-tailed than I’ve known myself to be. Will that satisfy you? Good, then we shall move on. Today’s destination was Foshan, much further south, and our first stop in Guangdong Province.
We were to have a mere 500km bus ride to Foshan. I decided to be anti-social and put my headphones on, just staring out of the window. A more relaxed way of passing the time and something that allowed me to simply take in the countryside. And what countryside it was. Now, the Vendée, where I live, isn’t exactly known for its mountainous terrain. Think more Jane Birkin than Marilyn Monroe—flat, laid-back, and subtle. At first, I didn’t realise what the trees were; some appeared bent over and broken. I just thought they were very young trees, before eventually cottoning on to the fact that I was looking at bamboo forests on the hillsides. They reached high up, gently moving with the wind. It was something I had never witnessed before.
We passed houses and farms along the way too. Again, a stark contrast to the cityscapes we had previously contemplated.
There was, of course, the inevitable “stop pipi,” and we all shuffled into the service station, which still wasn’t selling overpriced sandwiches. But the snacks available were certainly something to behold.
Now, you may be wondering if I partook in the tasting of these delicious-looking snacks. I did not. I was afraid they might be a little on the spicy side. Otherwise, absolutely no problem with eating poultry feet. Really, none whatsoever! I ended up getting something that vaguely resembled a chicken burger. Cheap, filling enough, and actually quite nice!
We arrived at the hotel. Before lunch—well, you know the drill: passports, room keys, and then we could finally eat. By now, I was really getting into Chinese food, and my chopstick funk was over. I was back in form! I managed to grab a couple of photos of the table we were eating at to show you, Dear Reader. The central turning platter took up most of the space and, by the end of the meal, was piled high with dishes that were certainly on the interesting side. In French, we say “tout est bon dans le cochon,” as a means of justifying eating the whole animal. In China, there is no mistaking what you’re eating. The whole beast goes into or onto the serving plate. Even the chicken’s head and feet. It was on this day that I ate tortoise for the first time. It was delicious! I think I had to get over any Western superiority complex I may have had and just eat what was in front of me. It would save trauma later on, and my belly would be full. Oh, sweet ignorant bliss!
Inbetween lunch and getting ready to go to the theatre, I decided to relax by having a go at some street photography to get the “vibe” of the city. The main “vibe” was the amount of electric scooters everywhere, and the fact that they drive on pavements. The French might have called it “un joyeux bordel” but somehow, don’t ask me how, it all seemed to work flawlessly. You had couples on scooters, mother and small children on scooters, gentlemen on scooters. Everybody in that place was on an electric scooter, or so it seemed. The only downfall of such a system especially with me being hard of hearing, was that I could only hear them when they honked their horns at me. Usually I hate this, but they were all honking! The sun was out. I was out, and the whole process gave me a mental clense that was greatly appreciated!
If you know China at all you will know that they have a reputation for pollution. Oooooh. Pollution bad! Pollution very nasty. Not good. However, it does give a wonderful diffused light for photography, and one of the way theys fight pollution is not only by a huge amount of electric scooters and electric cars, but also by spraying water vapour in the streets hoping to capture some of those not very nice particles. You can see this in a couple of my street photos above It is said that all their electricity comes from coal powered power stations, but I saw plenty of solar panels as well as wind turbines. I think they’re really trying, and should be encouraged.
Back to the hotel, getting washed, and changed, and dressed to go to the theatre for the rehearsal and concert. But that will be for another day…
Good morning, Dear Reader. Now, I know from the photos below you will find it hard to believe that it was actually Christmas Day! I didn’t believe it either. But it was! We were about to get to know the routine of our tour. Let’s get down to the nitty-gritty: Get up, skip breakfast, get on the bus, stop off at a service station along the way, buy snacks and water, get to the next city, get to the hotel, drop off luggage, go to a restaurant for lunch, hand over our passports, get the keys to our room, inspect our rooms, get a quick shower, get into concert attire, get to the venue, rehearse, and get used to the acoustics of the venue. Then, get back to the hotel, eat, go to bed, and repeat. This was to be my life for the next two weeks. Oh, and get some photographs to show you, my Dear Reader.
We had been warned that the seats on the bus had been decided and there would definitely be no changes. Final. End of story. Out of the question! Don’t even think about it! So, of course, my roommate Corentin decided to raise a massive hoo-ha about the whole situation and at our December concerts, started dropping slightly unsubtle hints, which were to continue in the SBL China WhatsApp group.
Christmas Day came around, and on our bus was Corentin. The little bugger had succeeded and worn down Madame le Président. So not only was he to be my roommate for the tour, but also my bus mate. He was happy! As was I. He’s an amiable boy and also good company. He looked after Uncle Ian very well during the tour. His enthusiasm, albeit sometimes tiring, was infectious.
As the Boy Scout I once was many, many moons ago, I had learned the importance of “being prepared.” For our first service station stop, I knew they don’t use cards as we do. Apple Pay etc., are not used either. But it wasn’t a problem as I had Alipay. I knew there was something about scanning a code or being scanned, and that payments could be done this way. I was ready. I had done everything correctly. But, as in most military campaigns, no plan survives first contact. The bloody thing wasn’t working. I had had my daily happy pills, so I didn’t feel the need to panic, even though my heart was racing. I created another account, and it worked from there on in. I was still furious, though. Those snacks looked amazing. Although the chicken feet might have been a bit of a challenge—not your first idea of a tasty snack… Ah well. The youngsters at the back took pity on Uncle Ian and let him taste some of their snacks. Certainly different, slightly more spicy, and not like what you might find in a French service station, with their legendary overpriced sandwiches…
We eventually arrived at Yongzhou, and we were shepherded into our hotel. We dropped off our bags and crossed the road to the restaurant. On the way over, one of our bassoon players had a funny turn and ended up visiting a Chinese hospital ER. Not what we were hoping for, but we saw him later that day, and everything was a lot better, though he was still being watched over. We were all very worried about him, but all we could do was pray, hope, and not worry. He was in good hands.
The restaurant was in a shopping centre. Lunch? When I say lunch, I mean banquet. We were seated at enormous round tables, though I thought that taking on the role of Arthur might be overdoing it a tad. In the middle of this huge round table was a circular glass tray, where, as if by magic, dishes laden with Chinese food would appear. The drink served with the meal was jasmine tea, which was very nice too and felt so very refined. Then somebody said the magic word: Beer! Surprisingly, smiles appeared on our faces too! I’ll tell you a little more about that later on…
The food, of course, was amazing, and I started feeling that I could get used to this—and of course, I did… At the end of the meal, the Corentin love machine went into action, and he was covered with Chinese ladies of all ages vying to get a selfie with him. It was then that I dubbed him Sir Fanny Magnet! He was very happy with his new name and fame. So that’s what it’s like taking one for the team! Bless his cotton socks.
Then it was my turn. Walking to the restaurant, I had noticed a shop selling goat’s milk products, and the ladies inside seemed overjoyed to see us passing by. They were even more buoyed up when we passed by them again! They asked me if they could take a photo of me with a small bottle in hand. I, of course, acquiesced as one must, and I have the feeling that my Chinese modelling career was just about to take off. It was also most amusing, and certainly flattering. I felt amazing. The Corentin for the more mature and discerning Chinese lady… The others laughed as they passed by, taking photos and giggling. But why on earth not? You have to get into the swing of things!
The lady responsible for my bourgoning China top modelling career…
Back at the hotel, I got showered and changed into my concert suit and looked rather dashing, if I don’t say so myself. After the success of my photoshoot post-lunch, I was still on a high! Off we went to the concert venue for the evening’s performance. It was all very impressive, as was the welcome by the theatre staff. The actual stage was huge, and for the afternoon rehearsal, everything was ready for us. We just had to walk on stage and play. I could definitely get used to this. I even managed to get a few photos, including a short series of the boss playing Gabriel’s Oboe from the soundtrack of the film “Mission.” Not the impossible one, I hasten to add.
It was during this rehearsal that I got to know our soloist, Jennifer Councier, a little more. That girl’s voice is amazing and fills up the whole amphitheatre. She’s an absolutely wonderful singer.
The concert went very well, and the audience was on grand form. When Jennifer sang the Chinese song, we had only played the first two bars when the audience joined in. Can you get any better than spontaneous audience participation? Probably not. Apparently, the Chinese love a Viennese waltz by Strauss. They were also tickled pink when Corentin and Catherine, one of the first violins, and another couple of dancers went into the audience to waltz around. That poor boy got far too much attention. But he seemed to love every minute of it, judging by the grin on his face when he came back to join us on stage. The audience lapped up each piece of music, and their reception of our music was something I’m not going to forget for a long while. After our “Christmas” concert, we got back on the bus to go back to the hotel and eat. I know, more delicious food.
We were to eat at a different restaurant that evening. The food was amazing, and the place had a feeling of being a place for the locals too. Not just that, but they had beer too. Alipay had decided to work. Uncle Ian was about to have a “sesh.” Our colleagues drifted back to the hotel for a well-earned sleep. Uncle Ian was having a grand time of it. Uncle Ian was very happy about Alipay working, and the bonhomie was infectious, so much so that a table of Chinese lads offered me a beer and wished me a Happy Christmas. It certainly was turning out to be a very Happy Christmas. Now, these lads had a box of beer by their table and quite a few bottles on their table. They were having a great night. After our French colleagues left us, we invited them over to share some merriment. I wouldn’t describe myself as a drinker, but I will say that I have a knack for downing a beer at a rapid rate of knots. By the end of the night, our new friends for life, and of course, bosom buddies, were starting to feel a little wobbly on their legs. Corentin made me promise that I would just have one last beer. So one last beer it would be. He seemed a little terrified of the way the soirée was heading. He’s such a lovely boy for worrying about Uncle Ian… He managed to drag me away from our new friends and got me back to the hotel. Was he saving me from our new friends for life, or was he saving them from me. Only time will tell. I think the key phrase to the evening was “as happy as a pig in shit.”
Our new friends for life. Thank you Corentin for allowing me to use these images! The poor buggers didn’t know what hit them…
Beer, you see, has a special kind of magic to it. There’s something about it, something fundamental, that bridges gaps and makes two men from opposite corners of the world feel like old friends. Wine might carry elegance, and liquor can be quicker, but beer? Beer is no-nonsense. It’s a drink that demands little more than appreciation for its simplicity.
There’s a quiet dignity in a cold bottle, clinking against a glass, that says, “We’re here, we’re sharing this moment.” In a way, it carries a sense of noblesse, a kind of unwritten rule of hospitality: come, sit, have a drink, and let’s talk without pretense. There’s no rush, no grandiosity—just two people connecting. In the unlikeliest of places, beer brings people together, like a bridge that spans cultures and backgrounds.
I don’t mean to sound too lofty about it, but there’s something wonderfully egalitarian about beer. No matter where you’re from—be it France, or far-flung places like China—a beer is always the same. And, like some sort of unspoken contract, it helps dissolve differences.
Of course, there are jokes about beer that always float to the surface in these moments. Take, for instance, the old Irish joke about the “Irish queer”—and by this, I mean someone who prefers women to beer! It’s a bit cheeky, a bit irreverent, but in those rare moments when the last sip of beer is shared, it feels just right. Nothing can quite compare to the camaraderie that forms over a few cold ones, whether you’re bonding with a colleague or making a new friend halfway around the world. It’s this pure, unspoken connection that beer uniquely brings, and in that, it’s a drink that transcends.
And on these very wise words, I will leave you until the next installment…
I’ve been going to Bamborourgh since I was a little boy. Fifty years later, it still affects me in a way that not many places do. Growing up, there was a painting of the castle in my mother’s bathroom, and ever since I learned photography, I’ve wanted to capture my own photo of the place. Patience, my dear boy, patience…
The last time I was there, I was with my wife and daughter. We explored the castle—a gurt big affair that overlooks the coast and the Farne Islands. This time, I was with my son. It’s all about passing on the experiences we’ve had to future generations. To be honest, this whole trip was about creating memories for the children and spending quality time with them. Ever wary of spending too much, we decided to visit just the village and the beach.
Exploring the Beach: A Walk through the Dunes
To get to the beach, you have to go through the dunes, following the paths, because wandering around the dunes willy-nilly is not the done thing—conservation of the local flora and fauna and all that. The castle towers above the beach, giving a sense of protection. By the time we got there, the beach was fairly full of people, dog walkers, and their dogs, all just enjoying the summer. A British, Northumbrian summer, but summer nonetheless.
I don’t know if you know, but I have a gammy knee and arthritis. I’ve also been taking collagen every day, and although it seems to be doing me good, it’s a bit early to see real effects. Killian was very kind, looking after me and making sure I was keeping up. He’s a good man, and it’s nice spending time with him. After walking on the beach for a while and letting me take my pictures, we found a log to sit on before heading back into the village.
A Stroll Back to the Village: Nostalgia and New Discoveries
As we headed back to the car, we came up the side of the castle and walked along the cricket ground. Dogs and their walkers were still out in force, with the owners throwing balls for the aforementioned dogs. All of a sudden, I missed Molly, our dog, and thought how much she would have loved coming with us, but she’s an old girl, and it wouldn’t have been feasible.
I thought about going up to the church to pay my respects to the local heroine, Grace Darling, who was the Lighthouse Keeper’s daughter in the 19th century. During an epic storm in 1838, a ship was wrecked on the Farne Islands, and Grace and her father went out in a rowing boat to pick up the survivors, as it was considered too rough a sea for the Seahouses lifeboat. They saved 9 out of the 62 passengers and had to shelter in the lighthouse for a further 3 days until the storm calmed down.
A Pub Lunch at The Lord Crewe: A Culinary Interlude
I didn’t manage to get that far. Killian, much like myself, has a weakness for pub lunches. And look, a pub! The Lord Crewe! One of those posh pubs that tries to hit above its station… We went straight to the bar and tried to order two pints of Guinness, while letting them know that we wanted to eat too. “Oh, in that case, just go up to the restaurant, and they’ll deal with you…” I was ready to leave the place and go somewhere else, but Killian was hungry, so we didn’t. However, we did enjoy being rude about the two barmen in French.
Killian decided on fish and chips, or “cod fillet with a beer batter”, and I went for the prawn cocktail. As you can see in the picture, even as Frenchmen, we couldn’t fault the presentation of the dishes. The taste was pretty good too! Eating a meal like that just takes you back to a place of joy and nostalgia. It takes you back to a place of calm and reflection. It takes you back to a place where everything is just the way it should be. It almost helped us forget the two barmen. Almost…
A rather delicious and impeccably presented prawn cocktail..
Continuing the Adventure: More Pints and Ice Cream
We paid and left, still joking at the barmen’s expense. We continued up the road and found the other pub. Ah well, another pint of Guinness. We never got to the church, but that was fine, as I already had the photos I wanted. The beach, the castle, and the dog walkers. We headed back towards the car and had that ice cream that we had noticed while walking up to pub number two. What a sound decision. It was very good ice cream and helped us forget the two rude barmen from the other place… Almost…
Capturing Bamburgh: A Photographer’s Reflections
Anyway, back to the car, and back to Lesbury to go and see the girls. I had the photograph I wanted. I wanted the castle, on top of its hill overlooking the beach and the dunes. The other photos were just a bonus. Yes, I went to a place for just one photo, but it was a photo I had been eager to get for some time. The next time I might just have to go at sunset to get the good light…
Photography Insights: Challenges and Techniques
Let’s conclude by talking about the photography from the day. The main technical difficulty was my camera’s metering of the scenes. I had to really expose for my highlights to compensate for the bright sky and the reflection of this light on the sand. I was actually worried about not being able to retrieve the information in the shadows. Luckily, Lightroom was a champion with photo editing and showed itself to be a top-notch app. For me, Bamburgh is all about the castle. It’s about the castle and the sea. It’s about the castle, the sea, the sand, and the dunes. If you can capture all that, then you’re well on your way to getting some pretty good photos.
Little did I know this would be my only visit to the beach and village of Alnmouth this year, so I decided to make the most of it. I had my X100F around my neck, as usual. I was up at the crack of dawn, chasing that perfect light once again.
The morning routine was pretty much the same as my first day in Lesbury: early rising, early breakfast, and an early cup of tea. The weather was gorgeous, and the light was amazing. What could go wrong?
Arriving in Alnmouth: The Beauty of Early Morning Light
I hopped in the car and headed to Alnmouth, just a short drive down the road. As I came around the roundabout in Hipsburn, Alnmouth and the River Aln came into view, bathed in golden light. The reflections on the water were breathtaking. It was early enough to find a parking space without any trouble. If you’d like to see more photos of Alnmouth, I can add a link for you.
Exploring Alnmouth: A Village with a Rich History
As the name suggests, Alnmouth is a village at the mouth of the River Aln. It was once a bustling port, playing a significant role in 17th-century Northumbrian trade. I’ll let you read up on that on Wikipedia, and I’ll be here when you’re done.
The village was still asleep as I made my way past the golf club and down to the beach. The only people around were a few dog walkers and me, enjoying the morning’s fresh air. The orange hues in the sky were perfectly reflected on the sand.
Discovering Color in Photography: A Shift in Perspective
For those interested in color theory, the use of complementary colors was striking—blue skies contrasted beautifully with the oranges in both the sky and the sand. I’m on a quest to explore my colorful side. While I still love black-and-white photography, this trip made me eager to embrace color.
My knee wasn’t even hurting; I felt fantastic. Maybe there’s something to be said about the sun’s healing powers. I made my way back to the car, carrying a lump of coal I’d found on the beach. It was too good a find to keep to myself. Surely, Killian would be up by now. Lesbury was only five minutes away. Oh, what the heck? I’ll go wake him up!
Father-Son Bonding: Revisiting Alnmouth Together
Killian was fine getting up and out with me. I only had to bribe him with a sandwich and some chocolate. We went back to Alnmouth together, and I took more pictures of the village. It was a very pleasant father-son bonding moment. He wanted to go to the post office or general store. They didn’t take cash, and for once, I was able to pay with my card for him.
Switching Editing Tools: From Snapseed to Mobile Lightroom
I recently talked about Snapseed and had been using it to edit my photos, but this time, I wasn’t happy with the results. The photos had so much potential, and I didn’t want to waste them. Some friends had recommended Lightroom Mobile, so I decided to give it a try. I already knew my way around Lightroom on the PC, and I felt right at home with the mobile version. It was very intuitive—almost as much as Snapseed. What a pleasant surprise!
So, I went back with Killian and took more pictures of the village. It turned into a wonderful father-son bonding moment. He wanted to visit the post office or the general store, but they didn’t accept cash. Luckily, I could pay with my card for him.
A Missed Opportunity: Scotts of Alnmouth
I was hoping to visit Scotts of Alnmouth, but they were closed. As we walked back to the car, I saw the owners heading to work and was invited to come back when they were open. Unfortunately, I never managed to return to taste their wonderful coffee and cakes. That was the only low point of the holiday. But as that Austrian strongman and actor famously said, “I’ll be back!” It’s good to be home.
IJM Photography 