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Close up, National Botanical Gardens

Singapore. Again.

Yes, we shopped a bit, too

Yes, we shopped a bit, too

 

Our first trip of the year – Singapore. Again.

 

This was our umpteenth visit and while we don’t have permanent residence papers, we probably qualify for them by now.

 

Not that we’d be able to live here; accommodation is scarily expensive, most apartments tiny. The climate is a problem too. In addition to the almost 100% humidity, the daily temperatures in January/February hover around a doable 31C/32C, but in a month or so, they’ll zoom up to 40C. We’ve been here in March and at 39C, everything pretty much stops. There’s nowhere to hide – air conditioned shops, hotels, bars and restaurants are fine, but at some point you have to go outside to get somewhere, or you may as well say home.

 

Lunch for one

Lunch for one

 

Statue at Parkview

Statue at Parkview

 

Close up, National Botanical Gardens

Close up, National Botanical Gardens

 

Close up, National Botanical Gardens

Close up, National Botanical Gardens

 

No, these visits are to do and re-do the things we’ve discovered over the years. We wander the streets, malls and parks, eat in just about every flavour of restaurant imaginable, drink ice cold Tiger beer and generally lap up the easy going, almost crime-free environment, where politeness and courtesy rank alongside service end efficiency.

 

After several false starts, we’ve made our home from home at a hotel on Robertson Quay, just metres from the clamour of Clarke Quay and thousands of drinking, partying tourists eighteen hours a day. There’s nothing fancy about it, including the room rates, but the beds are clean, there’s abundant hot water, air conditioning and free wi-fi. There’s even a unique Euro-Asian buffet breakfast included – good if you enjoy fried eggs, baked beans, fried rice and toast!

 

Fortunately, it’s not obligatory.

 

Close up, National Botanical Gardens

Close up, National Botanical Gardens

 

Close up, National Botanical Gardens

Close up, National Botanical Gardens

 

Night time lighting, Robertson Quay

Night time lighting, Robertson Quay

 

Saunders Road, just off Emerald Hill

Saunders Road, just off Emerald Hill

 

Anyway, it’s peaceful, there are restaurants aplenty, an MRT station (subway) next door, bus routes to pretty much anywhere and if all else fails, lots and lots of the city state’s surprisingly affordable taxis.

 

There’s also walks along the Singapore River, towards the CBD, Parliament, downtown and just about anywhere else you might wish to wander.

 

What’s not to like?

 

Our normal stays in the city are four or five days, but in the hope that we could tempt Laura and Julian (and Zach and Amy) to join us, this trip was set down for ten nights. It wasn’t to be – as friends had wedding plans in Jozi for February and understandably our invite got binned.

 

We did wonder what we’d do with all that time, but as it turned out, we could have used at least two more days to (re)do the things we wanted. Late January is definitely the time of year to visit, despite the daily rain. And, with less emphasis on walking across town from place to place, public transport is definitely the way. It also ensures that we both arrive in a relatively dry condition that doesn’t require sitting under a cool air outlet, or fan for half an hour, to get us back to some kind of social presentability.

 

Anyway, I won’t bore you with a list of dids and didn’ts; you can see some of them in the photographs. Comments at the bottom, please.

 

Emerald Hill, just steps from shopping-central, Orchard Road

Emerald Hill, just steps from shopping-central, Orchard Road

 

The lounge at Parkview

The lounge at Parkview

 

The lounge at Parkview

The lounge at Parkview

 

Fort Canning MRT station - our nearest

Fort Canning MRT station – our nearest

 

Haji Lane – one of Singapore’s best known tourist spots

Ottering in Oslo

 

As I mentioned in last week’s post, we were supposed to be flown from London to Oslo by Ryanair last Saturday. Needless to say that was €300 down the toilet and I won’t be making that mistake again.

 

The vile Irishman might have chosen to indirectly punish us even further, as our self-funded replacement flight on Norwegian was rammed with Northern Ireland football supporters flying to the World Cup qualifier (I think that’s what it was). Charming they might be, but Irish footie supporters are noisy, boisterous and seemingly roaring drunk their every waking moment.

 

The game was on Sunday evening, with Ireland losing 1-0.

 

I was dimly aware – our first floor hotel room window over the hotel’s reception area actually opened – of loud conversations, chants of “Who are you?” and endless billows of cigarette smoke wafting into our room right through the night. At around 08:00 on Monday morning, I went down to buy coffee and found myself in the queue behind the archetypical red-headed Irishman who was attempting to buy beer from the deli/snack bar counter in the hotel. Meeting with an incredulous “But it’s only eight o’clock,” he responded with a tremulous “…it’s a national emergency,” but still he couldn’t thaw the heart of the Nordic lass on the till.

 

Things around here have quieted a lot since they took their hangovers off to the airport.

 

 

 

 

 

So, Oslo. As a friend pointed out recently, Lisbon is a great city to photograph. In my opinion, so are Paris, Tokyo and to a lesser extent, Singapore and Copenhagen.

 

Oslo does not make the easy/fun/good list. It is (Nordic) beautiful, serene, stylish after a fashion, clean and populated by the most helpful locals, but photogenic it doesn’t appear to be. Then, I expected one of the Viking, Kon Tiki or Munch museums to offer some photo opportunities, but that wasn’t to be either.

 

Oslo’s foodie market at Mathallen offered a few photo opportunities, but no more than similar markets in Madrid, Sydney’s fish market, or Venice to name a very few.

 

The city is basking in late autumn light and clearly prepping for winter. Rain threatens and I wonder whether a visit in (maybe) July or even January might have been a better option.

 

 

 

 

 

Still, it’s a really interesting city. Vigeland’s sculptures, Munch’s works, Ibsen’s plays and the work of the Nobel Institute make a fine backdrop to this modern and hugely relaxed society. I’ve enjoyed it, although rushing back doesn’t seem to be on the agenda.

 

Early on Thursday, we decamped for a concessional (on my part, as I hate them) guided tour* from Oslo to Myrdal, on to the Flåm (inelegantly pronounced Flom) railway to descend 866m to sea level in just 20 kilometres, at gradients as steep as 1:18 – tough for a road, but amazing for a regular rail line, with no funicular assistance.

 

From Flåm, we enjoyed a launch ride along two spectacular fjords to Gudvangen and from there, a bus (complete with singing driver) to Voss and finally another train ride into Bergen, arriving on time, moments before 20:00.

 

 

 

It had been drizzing most of the day, but was pishing down by then and a taxi seemed like an excellent idea. Having attempted to walk the route this morning (Friday), I’d have to say that last evening’s decision was beyond perfect as even with the help of Mr Google’s maps, we got took wrong turnings aplenty and would doubtless have found our hotel, but not before some terminal matrimonial damage had been done…

 

* Guided tour? Actually not. Norway in a Nutshell was brilliantly organised, but no guide and in truth, one was not needed.

 

And so, Friday dawned in Bergen. The weather forecast is predicting at least another week of this downpour and our foray to see whether we should attempt a walk to the station tomorrow for our train back to Oslo got us so wet that we’ve spent the last couple of hours back in our hotel room, drying out.

 

 

 

 

As we were returning to Oslo, we’d packed little more than an overnight change of clothes and stored our suitcases in our hotel’s storeroom. Given the number, variety and busy schedules of the transport we used, that turned out to be an excellent plan. Dragging luggage over that obstacle course could doubtless have done either one or both of us some serious damage.

 

Next week; Sweden.

Travelling – the London Leg

 

Photo giant, Pete Turner’s death a couple of weeks ago both reminded and encouraged me to look at what I was/am shooting a bit differently. I’m no lover of super saturated colours, but a little tweaking never hurt anyone. Right?

 

Plus, I find the Fuji cameras I prefer when travelling produce spectacular colour, especially when pushed a little.

 

So, a week in London en famille, celebrating a milestone birthday with little else in the way of social commitments beyond a daily family lunch or evening meal, I got lots of time to wander, explore and play.

 

For the photographically minded, all these images were shot with either the tiny Fuji X100F or X-Pro2 and 56mm f1.2. I can’t possibly imagine why I told myself I needed to pack and carry four other lenses 🙁

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Tokyo colour

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Hotel-bound. Crocked.

 

I’m not feeling too sharp today, so I’m contenting myself with a feet-up (literally) day off, some editing and watching South Africa and Australia battle it out in Perth, via Cricinfo’s ball-by-ball coverage.

 

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I’ve been shooting lots of Tokyo-ites in black and white since arriving, but this morning, with time on my hands, started experimenting with colour too – some serious colour hacking.

 

I don’t think they’re meant to be taken too seriously. Or are they?

 

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Any thoughts? Use the comments section at the bottom of the page please.

 

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…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.