Posts

…and then you’ll be able to rememberise Varanasi

He walks in his own light, Varanasi

He walks in his own light, Varanasi

 

Sunrise ceremonies, Varanasi

Sunrise ceremonies, Varanasi

 

Cows everywhere, Varanasi

Cows everywhere, Varanasi

 

Saturday – we were advised last evening that today’s early afternoon flight west to Varanasi had been cancelled, the airline offering us an alternative at 04:30 to Delhi, several hours wait, then a flight all the way back to our intended destination. Or an airline switch that would cost 3000 Rupees (R600/£30) for the pair of us.

 

Rather than waste an entire day travelling and sitting around, we opted for the relatively small extra and landed in Varanasi mid-morning after an 05:00 wake-up call and a quick transfer to the airport.

 

International baggage allowances vary, depending on the airline. Most allow 23kg, Emirates 30kg. Both of our cases tipped at the scales at under 20kg when we flew here, but the internal airlines are on the same money-making gig you’ll encounter elsewhere and were very quick to charge us several hundred Rupees extra for our “excess baggage”. I do understand the profit motive; I’ve worked for myself for more than 30 years, but this feels much more like taking the piss because you can.

 

Rant over. For now – we’ve another flight coming up.

 

Untitled, Varanasi

Untitled, Varanasi

 

Flower market, Varanasi

Flower market, Varanasi

 

The school run, Varanasi

The school run, Varanasi

 

Untitled, Varanasi

Untitled, Varanasi

 

Kolkata had largely proved my photographic choices; small mirrorless cameras (Fuji X100T, Sony NEX-7) and 25/35/50mm lenses. I’d also packed my ancient Leica 135 f2.8 thinking I’d use it around the Taj Mahal for sunrises and sunsets. That has still to come, but given the very limited scope for long lenses so far, I’m beginning to think it would have been better to leave it at home.

 

In the main, the Fuji shines very brightly. When it hits a critical focus point, the results are as good as with the best of cameras. The autofocus isn’t that quick however and I have definitely lost some images in alleyways and poorly lit buildings that were grabbed en passant. Another second or two and some patience could have delivered a great shot.

 

The NEX-7 and it’s manual lenses remains a delight, but not for anything other than outright daylight, or situations where there is time to focus properly. Zone focus is a solution, but at ISO800 and f2.8 a daylight exposure value that delivers wonderful focus and sharpness deteriorates to f2.8 and a half second exposure in a heartbeat, as the environment changes from pavement to semi-dark alleyways and the deep gloom of open fronted shops/eating houses.

 

My new Fuji X-Pro1 and 35mm f1.4 arrives with the rest of the family in a couple of days and I’m hoping that will be a more workable solution.

 

While I’m being a bit technical, I’m using some different editing techniques on this trip. Fortunately, they’re non-destructive, so if what I’m doing doesn’t fly, I can head back to where I started.

 

The first change is the use of a 2.39:1 crop – the cinematic ratio, I’m told. I’ve tried several different ratios before, including the usual landscapers’ 2:1, but this one really works for me – especially with the scenes I’ve been shooting. Comments would be helpful…

 

Shoes off please

Shoes off please

 

Queue to enter the Golden Temple, Varanasi

Queue to enter the Golden Temple, Varanasi

 

A common sight on Varanasi's lanes

A common sight on Varanasi’s lanes

 

Sunrise ceremonies, Varanasi

Sunrise ceremonies, Varanasi

 

The Ganga at sunrise

The Ganga at sunrise

 

The Ganga at sunrise

The Ganga at sunrise

 

The second experiment is using VSCO’s plug-ins. I bought Pack 4 (essentially offering Velvia, Provia and some Kodak film emulations) and added it to the free Pack 0 which I use for Tri-X emulation. I’m really enjoying the bright and intense colours, but find it necessary to tone down some of the Velvia renditions, especially with Asian skin tones which quickly head for bright yellow. All-in-all, it’s an experiment worth trying.

 

Untitled, Varanasi

Untitled, Varanasi

 

Untitled, Varanasi

Untitled, Varanasi

 

So, Varanasi. It’s dry, dusty and much less humid than Kolkata. The traffic is as bad and the willingness to hoot at every piece of paper on the street, shadow, dog, cow, cyclist, pedestrian, or other vehicle within 50m is identical. The hotel, several notches up from Kolkata’s quaint Fairlawn has just served us a passable buffet lunch and we currently await our guide for the afternoon’s exploration.

 

Collecting us from the airport was Anil; chatterbox of note, he was keen, a mine of information and introduced us both to the concept of rememberisation; some kind of recall one has after visiting Varanasi and joining one of his tours. I hope we’ll remembers this one with great fondness.

 

Billed as the planet’s oldest city, Varanasi is known for its temples, religious activity and daily gatherings at the ghats along the Ganga (Ganges to us outlanders). Our first guided visit was to walk a bit of the city and end at the Dashaswamedh ghat – a stepped entry down into the Ganga – as darkness fell.

 

In classic Indian style, the evening ritual was celebrated with a huge crowd, seemingly made up equally of sightseers and worshippers. Bells clanged, hand organs played, tablas bonged and five orange and gold clad priests led the ceremony, chanting, singing and ringing hand bells. The crowd joined in and with the addition of clouds of incense, turned a sundown rite into a spectacular experience.

 

Sunday morning saw us with another early alarm call, this time to re-visit Dashaswamedh ghat, to climb on board a large rowing boat to see the morning bathing ritual and witness the sunrise over the Ganga. There are few words to describe the experience.

 

Off the boat, just beyond the cremation area (strictly no photographs), we walked along the various ghats, spectators at a daily ritual critical to India’s Hindu community. If last evening’s ceremony was a great experience, this was truly special – one of the great sights that make India the travel destination it is.

 

Untitled, Varanasi

Untitled, Varanasi

 

Waiting for the ceremony to begin, Varanasi

Waiting for the ceremony to begin, Varanasi

 

Untitled, Varanasi

Untitled, Varanasi

 

The Ganga at sunrise

The Ganga at sunrise

 

Sunrise witnessed and hundreds of pilgrims seen washing and purifying, we were ushered back to our hotel for a (very) late breakfast, followed by a walking tour of one of the city’s fabric factories, the Islamic market and a the lanes that differentiate this ancient city from so many others.

 

This morning (Tuesday), another early call heralded departure for Allahabad and Lucknow – in other words, a day in the car, with brief stops at Sangram, the holy confluence of three great rivers and then on to Nehru’s house in Allahabad. Photography in most of these places is forbidden and while the house is magnificently maintained, I managed only a couple of shots. The police are inches thick everywhere and I suspect falling foul of them is not advised.

 

If you’ve read Rohinton Mistry’s A fine balance, or Gregory David Roberts’ Shantaram, you’ll understand.

 

Before I turn my attentions to Lucknow, I need to say that Varanasi was truly special; the religious pilgrimages surrounded by the Ganga and a city full of ancient buildings, unique. That said, for all its history and appeal to the tourist/photographer, the city is unremittingly dirty. There are dogs and (predictably) cattle everywhere, often asleep in the middle of main roads and alleyways. Their droppings make navigating the litter- and rubble-strewn lanes and roadways almost impossible. Couple that with the unending press of humanity, motor bikes and scooters roaring past and the permanent stench of just about everything you don’t want to imagine and you’ll be well prepared if the you choose to visit.

 

Sunrise

Sunrise

 

Sanskrit University, Varanasi

Sanskrit University, Varanasi

 

The Ganga at sunrise

The Ganga at sunrise

 

Untitled, Varanasi

Untitled, Varanasi

 

Sanjiv, our day guide did a fine job of navigating us through the labyrinthine lanes and alleyways, and swatted (not literally) away the endless stream of beggars. If you’re planning to visit Varanasi and need someone to show you the real photographic sights – send me an e-mail and I’ll let you have his details.

 

Wednesday – Lucknow. Breakfast soon and then our first of two full days in the capital of Uttar Pradesh.

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

 

Autumn has arrived in the Cape and our warm(ish), wet winter can’t be far behind.

 

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

 

Nestled deep in the Overberg, about thirty kilometres south of Franshhoek and within walking distance of Villiersdorp, Theewaterskloof Dam supplies a large percentage of Cape Town’s water and predictably at the end of a long dry summer, the water level is very low.

 

So low in fact that I’d spotted the trunks of the trees which were covered when the dam was constructed, when driving past recently. Now was the time to go and photograph these eerie remains, before the coming rain and watershed covered them once again.

 

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

 

04:30 – the alarm on my phone started barking at me to wake up – Theewaterskloof isn’t just around the corner, it’s at least a 90 minute drive – and despite packing my cameras and tripod the night before, the morning got off to a slow start despite large quantities of espresso.

 

I just made it – found the access road and set up just in time. Another five minutes and I’d have missed those critical tones in the landscape as day starts to elbow the night aside once more. The weather forecast has suggested some cloud cover, which failed to materialise, although a photographer’s dream mist more than made up for it. The temperature hovered around 9C, not cold by northern hemisphere standards, but for us Africans, distinctly chilly.

 

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

 

Mother Nature’s sculpting of these trees was exquisite when they were alive and providing shade. Dead and submerged for decades, they remain a visual treat on the few occasions what is left of their trunks and branches appear above the water.

 

My stricture about only using a DSLR when the car carries it for me was in full force and I shot with three of my favourite pre-AI Nikkors on the D800e; 28 f2.8, 50 f1.4 and the 105 f2.5. They enabled me to frame specific shots and as usual, delivered brilliant images, that needed little more than a bit of CA adjustment.

 

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

 

The African sun rises quickly – the light strengthens and photography is usually abandoned soon after sunrise, as the contrast between light and shadow all too soon swamps the camera’s dynamic range. This morning, as the sun rose, the mist thickened and a different type of soft contrast was on offer. Not for long, however.

 

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

 

No matter how much I love shooting with prime lenses, if I was to grab as much of this wonderful misty light as I hoped, a zoom would be vital. So, with a split between the 24-70 f2.8 and my ancient 80-200 f2.8, I spent a wonderful and unplanned final hour capturing gentle sunny colours, blue haze and a mist that obligingly made my early wake-up and 200km round trip all worthwhile.

 

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

 

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

 

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

 

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Misty sunrise at Theewaterskloof Dam

Unexpected find

Tokyo in colour pt. 1

 

After last evening’s post, I got a note from a reader asking why such a colourful city was being shown in black and white.

 

Answer; right now, that’s what I am focussing on. I’m not forgetting the colour – I’m keeping most of those for the InSight: Tokyo guide that will be published shortly.

 

So as not to disappoint though, here’s some Tokyo colour.

 

Red light Shinjuku

Red light Shinjuku

Shinjuku street morning

Shinjuku street morning

Shinjuku sunrise

Shinjuku sunrise

Flatiron Uedo style

Flatiron Uedo style

Shinjuku Gyoen National Park

Shinjuku Gyoen National Park

Shinjuku shrine

Shinjuku shrine

Restaurant lantern

Restaurant lantern

Welcome back

Rooi Els lagoon

Rooi Els lagoon

 

Slider; a small hamburger, about a third the size of a normal burger. Often sold in twos, threes and more – depending on your appetite. Sliders allow the eater to taste several different types (one of each; cheese, blue cheese, egg, bacon, etc.) at one sitting. Great idea. Massively satisfying. The best of all worlds really.

 

Slider; functionality in a Web site template that literally slides one item of content over another – photographs for example. It’s an excellent way of displaying several images in a space where only a single image might otherwise be shown. Great idea.

 

Great idea? Not.

 

Best of all worlds? Not.

 

Ulcer inducing? Yup.

 

Overberg sunrise

Overberg sunrise

 

The shiny new Web template had arrived almost as quickly as my US$50-odd tinkled into the developer’s pocket. Unpacked, it looked pretty straightforward, but from the get-go, I was aware that the things I wanted to achieve weren’t just a matter of selecting an option, clicking the check box to confirm my choice and leaning back to marvel at my astonishing technological prowess.

 

Nope.

 

I started this project late last year, intending to move my two sites; psukhe (the blog) and paulperton.com (my photography galleries) into a single environment.

 

Thinking that up was the easy bit. Making it work has taken almost a year. A year of frustration, irritation and such resulting apathy that it became necessary to give myself a stern talking-to in order to get anywhere near finished.

 

Looking towards Glenelg

Looking towards Glenelg

 

So, a couple of weeks ago, I called in the specialists. It’s shite to discover that you’ve run out of ability in this or that and have to call in extra hands. Still, if I wanted a Web site…

 

Long story short, I bought a different template – hopefully one that is significantly less arcane – and have had it’s initial pages populated for me. Now, I have a model to follow and should be able to cope.

 

This post is accompanied by some images I hope you haven’t seen before and will be followed by a couple of recent items that I originally posted on DearSusan and you may have missed. Having been off-air for a while, I find myself with a great deal of other topics I want to explore; those will have to wait a few days.

 

Anyway, I’ve finally got this far and I hope not to have lost many of the regular visitors to either site. Take a look around, try the links and load the pages. They should all work. While you do that, I’ll carry on wrangling with the technology.

 

Do let me know if you like it. Or don’t as the case may be.

 

And, while all that has been going on, I have to ‘fess up that I also took a bit of a sabbatical. Late in 2013, I wrote to Pascal Jappy, the main blogger/owner at DearSusan* to ponder whether he might be interested in me writing for the site – new face, new ideas etc.

 

I’d attached an article about my passion for steam trains and a few accompanying photographs and was delighted to be welcomed on board. Since then, I’ve been posting on DS, intending to re-start my own blog just as soon as I’d managed to wrangle the damned thing into submission.

 

Rooisand sunrise

Rooisand sunrise

 

That day has arrived. Please explore and if you’ve some time, have a wander around the DearSusan site too (link above).

 

There’s always a bit more here – I’m finishing this post listening to Pink Floyd’s two decade awaited final recording(s), called The Endless River. Essentially a collection of outtakes from the Division Bell sessions, it’s vintage Floyd and definitely pinned in that late ‘90s period. I’m not certain they shouldn’t have left it there and our memories intact. Maybe it’ll grow on me.

 

* Named as a response to Susan Sontag and her remarks about the proliferation of sub-optimal photography.

 

Looking south east

Looking south east