World in Pictures: Armenian Churches

Armenia was the first country in the world to adopt Christianity as its state religion more than 1,700 years ago. As a result the country is scattered with stunning churches and ancient, atmospheric monasteries on every hilltop, grassy plain and city street.

Despite the Soviet Union’s determined efforts to suppress Christianity in the country (closing all but one church for the best part of seven decades ), the Armenian’s devotion appears to have bounced back stronger than ever.

The priests, dressed in grand black robes, chant and pray in the old Armenian language during Sunday services, leaving many of the congregation in tbe dark.

“Often we wonder if they make up stories,” our guide joked, adding that most people can not understand everything.

But nevertheless, the church is a special place to most Armenians and as we stepped into the old, sparsely decorated buildings, often lit by just a single shaft of light from the sky, I could understand why. Armenia is also home to the world’s oldest state built church, which was constructed from 301-303, and remains in surprisingly good condition today.

So without any further chatter, I shall let you enjoy our church pics. I have thrown them all into black and white and played around with the contrast on this occasion, to emphasise the dark, antique-like atmoshphere of Armenian churches.

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A man prays at Khor Virap Church

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Sevanavank Monastery besides Lake Sevan, Armenia

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Me gazing into the ray of light inside Sevanavank Monastery, on Lake Sevan.

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Two ladies sit outside St Gayane Church, built in 630 AD and home to Armenia's only two nuns.

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Inside St Hripsimeh Church, where a nun by the same name lies after being killed by an Armenian king because she would not marry him.

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A girl looks into a tray of candles, sitting in water, lit in memory of loved ones

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The roof top of Haghartsin Monastery through the 'lucky' tree stump beside it.

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Inside the county's oldest church, the 'mother cathedral', at Echmiadzin, Armenia

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One of rmenia's beautiful, old battered cars, in front of Hayravank Monastery near Lake Sevan

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A priest walks through the entrance to one of the cave churches at Geghard Monastery

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The beautifully located Noravank Monastery

Travel Tips

Churches and monasteries can be seen all over Armenia, but one of the best ways to see a good selection if you don’t have much time is to take day tours from Yerevan. We stayed at the Envoy Hostel in Yerevan, which runs fantastic trips from the city, taking in all of the highlights above. The tours are led by the hostel’s manager Arpine Yesayan, who is excellent and gave us a fantastic insight into Armenian culture and spirit as well as the fascinating history of the churches pictured here. It was so good that we signed up to a second tour there.

World In Pictures: Paris, Munich and Salzburg in 48 hours

For me travel is about immersing yourself into another world, exploring new cultures and embracing different ways of thinking. But right now we’re not really doing that… We’re just a-hoppin’, skippin’ and runnin’ across Europe before starting a four month journey across the Silk Road from Turkey to China.

So, since leaving the UK on Tuesday we’ve travelled from London to Paris, to Munich and Salzburg – and tonight we shall be dining in Budapest. Of course I say that in the loosest sense of the word as we have rediscovered our old travelling ways and have been frequenting curry shacks and markets for ‘supper’. I even refused to use the loo at Munich Station because it cost a €1 – I don’t mind spending a penny… But a Euro?! Outraged.

Anyway, in keeping with our fleeting pace across Europe I thought a ‘World in Pictures’ post would be most appropriate (where I write less and let the pictures give an overview). We can’t pretend to have got under the skin of these cities but my, we’ve had great fun surfing the surface.

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Our time in Paris totalled just 3 hours… We decided to spend it on the Montmartre, picnicking outside the Sancrecerre. This guy turned up with a football.

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He was impressive.

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So was the picnic. Matty wore stripes especially for the occasion.

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Then it was off to Munich on this sexy sleeper train.

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We threw ourselves right in the deep end with this wonderful lederhosen-adorned tour guide.

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And concluded dat bratwurst ist gut.

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The handsome Feldherrnnhalle in the Odeonsplatz square, Munich.

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Lovely old state building with huge glass extensions, Munich.

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The Englischer Garten, in the heart of Munich is the biggest public garden in Europe. People also sunbathe naked. I went there to gaze at the colourful fauna. Obviously.

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When in Rome… We drank beer in Munich. We finished beer in Munich. Here’s me through Matty’s beer goggles.

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And we’re in Salzburg! No, I don’t really get this either.

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Donagh looking pretty with the flowers in Salzburg.

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Salzburg Cathedral is a baroque beauty.

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Inside the cathedral…

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The beef goulash with dumpling was mighty fine indeed.

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A view of Salzburg from the impenetrable fortress of Hohensalzburg Castle, Salzburg.

I am still coming to terms with the fact I have visited Salzburg without doing the Sound of Music tour… Tragic combination of travelling with two boys and having only an afternoon in the city. Somebody pass me a schnaps.

World in Pictures: Hyson Green, Nottingham

What is it about leaving a place that makes you fall in love with it all over again? As we prepare for our big journey across Central Asia I find myself looking around at all the little things I have on my doorstep, and appreciating them more than ever.

The things that make me smile, things that hold so many memories, and things I will miss…

I want to make it clear that curry is not the ONLY thing I will miss. I’m sure my body will get used to eating fatty morsels of meat on kebab sticks as we travel over the ‘stans, I’m sure it will be fine. There will be no tears – or waking in the middle of the night, interrupted from dreams where I was about to tuck into a spicy melt-in-your mouth lamb curry with a freshly baked, soft naan bread to my side – none of that.

The problem is, I live in Hyson Green – home to some of Nottingham’s finest curry houses. If you are reading this and have not yet sampled such delights then can I suggest you grab your purse and go straight away. Now. My personal favourites are Kabul (where Mantu, steamed dumplings of chopped lamb, onions and herbs topped with yoghurt, is an absolute must) and Desi Express, which has an array of delicious curries and the amazing takka-tak dishes, where the meat is chopped up as it cooks on a large metal grill. It literally makes the sound ‘takka-tak takka-tak takka-tak’ as the chef chops away, which incidentally is a beautiful sound. A curry and a naan bread in both establishments will set you back £5.

So, yes I am a bit worried there might be some curry-starved-tantrums on the Silk Road. But just to prove that is not all I will miss about this lovely ‘hood, here are a few pics I’ve taken in recent weeks of my other favourite things…

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The Forest Recreation Ground… thank you for the wine-fuelled summer evenings and crisp, snowy walks

 

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Oh Gregory Boulevard, we’ve had some times, haven’t we? You look prettier in the snow.

 

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Thank you tram for stopping at the end of my road and sometimes making me a little bit less late to things.

 

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Asda, we’ve had a love-hate relationship, but thank you for always serving me wine at 21:59.

 

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You’re one of my favourite doors in Nottingham (and no, I have not been behind it)

 

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Hyson Green, you have buildings of all shapes and sizes. I like your eclectic style.

 

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And I love your rows of red-brick terraces with big bay windows

 

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Errrrm… you have some nice trees?!

 

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The fabulous New Art Exchange: For art, music, craft and FOOD.

 

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Hello My Name is… Hyson Green

 

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Art on every corner.

And yes, there probably will be another post yet on the colourful vegetable stalls, Indian-sweet stores and ahem, curry houses of Hyson Green. Talking of which, I’m getting peckish… time to “make the most” of what’s down the road, eh?

What have I missed? Feel free to share your favourite haunts.

World in Pictures: Beating the January Blues

Oh bugger, it’s almost January.

Poor old January, he really has the worst deal of the year doesn’t he? All the other months must feel so smug when they look at his blue, bitter ways with his short, frost-bitten days.

April’s running around crying, ‘I might bloody shower on you but summmmmer’s ahead!’, August is all ‘I’ll bring you sunshine [In the pouring rain]’, September seduces us with, ‘I know August was a two-second wonder – he always is, but I’ll bring you an Indian summer’, while December just sits on her gold encrusted, red throne with Santa on her side and elves rubbing her feet. But even February, with his dark, gloomy days, just pulls up a seat, orders a gin and tonic, and says: ‘Hey I’m only 28 days long,’ and we all swoon a little. ‘And I’m not January,’ he adds, with a mischievous wink.

Bless January, he tries his best to impress us. ‘I’ll make you fit and healthy – let’s start using that gym membership,’ he promises desperately. ‘Let’s give your liver a rest – walk away from the wine, in fact I will transform you into a new person this year… Just make a list, lets do it together.’

But he just always ends up disappointing us, doesn’t he? He’s all talk… and throwing down hail, sleet and snow, while sending us back into work with a belly full of turkey does not help. And let’s not mention the stinking hangover he always insists on starting the year with. The bastard.

In a bid to combat the somewhat aggressive January blues that I can already feel coming on, I have searched high and low for my favourite blue pictures that Matty and I have taken in recent years. Because really, if you stop to think about it, blue is a rather beautiful colour. Maybe January should start using that as his chat up line instead…

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The wonderful Tyne Bridge in Newcastle. Especially wonderful in March 2011 as it marked the end of our west to east coast bike ride of England. Thank God for Star Bursts.

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Some arty, blue plastic bottles at the Musee d’art Moderne et d’art Contemporain in Nice (which I am reliably informed is French for modern art museum).

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One of the beautiful palm-leaf swinging trees of Bali… with oodles of offerings at their base

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One of my favourite bluesy pictures of all times, so must give credit to Matty who snapped this (while I was probably filing my nails or something) in Essaouira, Morocco in 2008

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The infamous sky-mirror at the Nottingham Playhouse on a particularly merry July evening in 2012.

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And this, folks, is my dear friend Nicki at a particularly blue-infused rave at Glastonbury in 2010. I told you blue could be brilliant.

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Well no blue collection could be complete without a cheeky little snap of the Blue Mosque in Istanbul

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A Kenyan man in a a Nairobi slum from my trip with Christian Aid in 2010.

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And we’re back in Nice, which I visited in March 2012. I love this place.

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And a funky blue head on a posh hotel in Nice.

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Hungerford Bridge in London baby! (Taken at some point in the last five years).

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From the soon to be demolished Lenton Flats in Nottingham, snapped in 2011.

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And another from the Lenton Flats complex, 2011.

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Finally, some flying shoes in Ljubljana, Slovenia… snapped in 2011.

So, ahem, please feel free to share your views on the months of the year. Don’t pretend I’m the only one to give them sexes and personalities… Which one do you fancy the most?

Oh, and Happy New Year! X

World in Pictures: Collecting Christmas Tree Decorations

Souvenir shopping is a tricky business. The vibrant, bustling markets of India and Morocco leave me mentally decorating my home in glittering mirrors and patchwork cloth… I clutch abstract wooden carvings and lavishly decorated masks, convinced that they are exactly what my inner city Victorian terrace is lacking. But for some reason they never look quite so at home again as they did on that market stall.

Don’t get me wrong I’ve had some successes. Our huge green, hand painted Moroccan fruit bowl looks like it was made for our kitchen table and our Balinese coconut shell stores sugar just as well as anything that Ikea churns out… but, you get what I mean, it doesn’t always work.

However, have you ever noticed that EVERYTHING looks good on a Christmas tree? If it’s bright and colourful and a little bit garish, the chances are it will work just beautifully on the festive tree, if its a bit dark, sinister or just plain odd, it will probably work too – just like my Kenyan mask here.

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I think this bright blue silk butterfly, which I picked up in Malaysia, more than confirms my point.

So ever since my first big travelling trip in 2006, I have collected Christmas tree decorations from around the world.

And next year I will go on my biggest Crimbo decoration shop yet… in fact I will be giving up my job in a bid to collect tree ornaments from France, Austria, Hungary, Romania, Turkey, Georgia, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, China and Vietnam.

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This little lady at the top of my tree comes from a previous trip to ‘nam

Admittedly, we are not just going to buy Christmas decorations, it is a trip we have wanted to do for years – and finally the time is right. But if truth be told, this Christmas feels a little strange… It’s going to be our last Crimbo in the UK for some time and perhaps the last ever in this little house.

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Our trip from Hyson Green to Ho Chi Minh City (aka Nottingham to ‘nam) will begin in April and take about four to five months and we shall be doing it all overland… from tram, to train to tuk-tuk. We’ll rent out our house and find some new digs in Vietnam, or at least that’s the plan.

So there will be plenty more tales to come on this blog in the next year, but for now let me leave you with some souvenirs of beautiful trips gone by. And if I don’t write again before Christmas itself… Have a bloody good one.

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The latest addition to the collection – the Bali ball… 2012

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This little angel was the only thing not corrupted on the football tour to Riga, Latvia… 2009

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From London with love… 2007

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All the way to Scotland… 2012

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My Indian elephant. The country I loved enough to get inked… 2006

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My Deutsche fairy from Hamburg on my very first press trip… 2008

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As if climbing his way to the top, this furry Koala is a Crimbo tree must… 2007

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And who says you can’t decorate your tree in shells? Fiji… 2007

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I heart Laos… 2006

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A Moroccan slipper and a Thai delight… 2008 and 2006

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And an angelic gift from Matty. Ljubljana, Slovenia… 2010

Merry Christmas and safe travels for 2013 x

World in Pictures: Istanbul – The Accidental Holiday

Travel is never without hiccups. Or at least it isn’t, when Matty and I are involved. I’ve already mentioned the time we got stranded up a Lebanese mountain, and now I’ll tell you about the time we were meant to be flying to Portugal and accidentally ended up in Turkey.

It was a cold frosty December morning when we arrived at East Midlands Airport and we were fully intending to run the Lisbon half marathon two days later. We had all our running gear packed, we’d been (kind of) training for months and we were sort of prepared and very excited about becoming “international runners”. Having been to Lisbon before, we had taken a fairly gung-ho attitude with the whole planning side of things and didn’t buy our city guide until we got to the airport, where we excitedly sat down and starting planning.

Sipping water (like athletes) we kept an eye on the flight board, which continued to show no information about our flight. Eventually we got up and asked someone.

“No, your flight has been cancelled,” we were told.
“All flights to Spain and Portugal are cancelled due to air traffic control strikes.”

Got to love the continentals with all their strikes. Scratching our heads and realising we would not be running in the Lisbon half marathon after all, we wandered over to the bar and sank a couple of large glasses of Sauvignon Blanc. Then we tackled the Easyjet desk.

It was like something out of a reality TV show – people doing their best angry faces, lots of loud phone calls being made in a variety of languages, there were even tears. Not from us mind you, we were just hoping they would fly us somewhere – anywhere a little bit warmer – plus I love airports, and felt like I was already on holiday (the Savvy B helped).

When we got to the front the woman looked up wearily and apologised for the cancelled flight.

“No worries,” we said cheerfully. “Where can you send us instead?”

She looked surprised, smiled and tapped away on her computer.

“Istanbul? Flight leaves in two hours,” she suggested.

Result. We were now flying twice the distance for the same price. So, clutching our freshly printed flight tickets, we headed back to WH Smiths to swap our unneeded Lisbon book with a much needed Istanbul one (much to the check-out girl’s amusement).

And that is why we ended up in Istanbul with nothing but the clothes on our backs and our running kits. And no, we didn’t run once.

Enjoy the pics x

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Mmmm…. Turkish coffee should be adored by all

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The markets are a dazzling array of colours

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The super impressive Sultanahmet Camii (aka the Blue Mosque)

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As if oblivious to the dozens of tourists in the Blue Mosque

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The antique tram that runs down the main shopping throughfare Istikal Caddesi (and me)

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Matty doing his research

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The stunning interior of the Byzantine church Aya Sofya, which was the largest enclosed space in the world for almost 1,000 years (anyone know what is now?!)

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Tee hee, this bird which was happily perched on a boulder at the top of the Gelata Tower, which offers superb views across the Golden Horn to the Old City, flew off after taking this picture… and landed on Matty’s head. Priceless.

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City centre fishing: Dozens of fishermen line the Galata Bridge in Istanbul

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The city has som fab street art…

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Wicked arcitecture to be found at every turn

We fell in love with Istanbul, aside from its spectacular mosques and rich culture, it’s riddled with superb shops, bars, restaurants and cafes. The only city in the world to straddle two continents, perched across the Bosphorus that divides Asia from Europe, it really does feel like a wonderful mixing pot of many different worlds.

World in Pictures: Lenton Flats, Nottingham

The Lenton Flats in Nottingham are like the Eiffel Tower to Paris, the Shard to London, or the Empire State Building to New York.

Of course I’m exaggerating, they never quite made it as a tourist destination, but nevertheless the five 1960s tower blocks dominate Nottingham’s skyline, well if you live in that part of town anyway.

But not for much longer. Nottingham City Council is pulling the whole lot of them down… They are going the way of the dodo.

In my job as a reporter I went out there for resident reaction (yes I was the person ringing all the buzzers until someone let me in), which gave me the opportunity to explore a place that will soon become a little piece of history that separates generations. And contrary to the popular belief that no one would want to live in these ‘eyesores’, I found people in spacious, well looked after flats with tenants who were sad to leave. Yes, they said it was cold in the winter but they had raised their children here, their grand-children lived round the corner, Mavis upstairs is their best friend.

But the council says they are not financially viable and I’m sure they’re not. They are building new, warmer homes in their place. But as I walked around the estate that has been a landmark for so long, and a home to so many, I found myself singing ‘The Way of the Dodo’ by The Streets. And here are my pictures… to the lyrics.

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I’m right behind you but don’t expect me to ride like it’s a race

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Conspiracy theories – we all see these

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Just another brother trying to love my son and mother

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Scramble for the top, for the bottom of the ceiling

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For the kids let’s make the rules

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It’s not that I don’t care, just that I’m way too caught up with breathing air to grieve the trees

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I can’t imagine the day when things have actually faded away

World in Pictures: The People of Bali

The people in Bali are a beautiful bunch. Blessed with big, bright smiles, glossy hair and romantically chiselled faces, many are undeniably good looking. But it is the beauty I found underneath all of that – their warmth, their friendliness, their sheer delight when you attempt to speak their language, that really sets them apart.

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This beautiful man works at the Monkey Temple in Ubud and while hundreds of tourists coo and scream at the scavenging monkeys he just goes about his job, sweeping leaves and tidying the place up. He seemed quite bemused when I stopped him to ask if he’d mind being in my picture, he laughed and pointed at the monkeys as if to say ‘they’re the bloody attraction, not me!’ But nevertheless he obliged.

Fortunately, people in Bali always seemed quite happy for me to take their picture, I’d make that international sign of an over-exaggerated shutter push and they’d smile and nod and pause for a minute to allow me to capture a split second of their world.

I guess they’re used to it. But while hundreds of thousands of tourists descend on their tiny little island every year, most Balinese have never left. One of the nicest people I met in Bali was our lovely taxi driver Ketut, which literally means fourth son, who drove us from Kuta to Denpasar. Unbelievably they only have four names in Bali, each one represents the birth order and if a fifth child is born the cycle just starts again.

Anyhow it was on this journey that Ketut explained to us that the Balinese don’t have enough money to travel. Not just because their wages, which may allow them to live comfortably in their local villages, don’t translate into international air tickets, but more because of what they choose to spend their money on.

‘Ceremonies,’ he explained.
‘Our Hindu faith means we spend years and years saving for our ceremonies. Weddings, funerals, cremations are very, very expensive. We spend it all on ceremonies.’

So there you have it, while I am busy saving for a holiday for me, a new camera lens for me, some clothes for me, another holiday for… yep me, many Balinese spend their whole lives saving for ceremonies for their families. And I guess when you look at it like that, posing for a picture is an easy thing to give.

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A taxi rank in Ubud.

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A stall owner in Ubud… his stall must have one of the best backdrops in the world.

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The children in Denpasar who put flowers in my hair…

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A woman blesses her offerings for the day in Ubud.

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Setting the scene for a traditional dance performance at Ubud Palace.

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Jimbaran’s rambling beach band

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And of course, my favourite man of all, Gung Bawa, who I will be eternally grateful to.

World in Pictures: Goose Fair, Nottingham

In Nottingham autumn is not marked by the change in the colour of leaves, nor the need for a scarf. No, no, it is marked purely by the arrival of a goose. When the goose lands on the Mansfield Road roundabout you know the season has officially changed and its time to crack open the winter wardrobe.

The Goose Fair, one of Europe’s largest travelling fairs, rocks up at the Forest Recreation Ground every October. This weekend it’s the fair’s 718th visit and to celebrate the milestone I’ve put together a few of our pics from the past couple of years (and drunk a bottle of Chianti). Add hundreds and hundreds of people, the smell of sweet, sticky candy floss in the air and five different booming songs playing from rides all around you, and then, and only then, will you get a true picture of the infamous Goose Fair.

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What came first – the goose or the mushy peas?

World in Pictures: The Colours of Bali

If I had to choose one word to describe Bali it would be colourful. Every day vibrant colours drew me in like a magpie to diamonds… The dazzling shades of pinks, reds and yellows in its flowers, the ripe, rich greens of its rice paddies and its brilliant blue skies. To put it simply, I fell in love with its colours.

Even the greyest of pavements are lit up by dozens of colourful offerings for the Hindu Gods. Seemingly discarded on the floor, they are found everywhere from shops and restaurants to outside hotel doors. We found them at the top of Bali’s highest mountain Gunung Agung, lying on the sandy beaches (which Matty accidentally trampled on, burning his foot on the incense – but no one seemed to mind) and precariously balanced on taxi meters.

Varying in shapes and sizes, the offerings can be as small as a few grains of rice on a banana leaf, or as lavish as a full size meal, decorated in orchids with sweet, floral scented incense burning. Some had brightly packaged biscuits, most were made with rice and flowers, but all were beautifully colourful, decorating miles of pavements across the island.

It was quite magical to watch women, carrying trays of burning incense and brightly coloured flowers, bless each offering as they laid it down. Silent and transfixed, their mouths moved as their fingers sprinkled water over the small presentation, as if they were casting a beautiful, enchanting spell.

Here’s a few of our favourite picture that I hope convey some of the colours of Bali…

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And these beautiful structures, which I think must be made from palm leaves, lined many of the streets and were found outside homes, shops and restaurants. Most had small platforms at eye level that were laden with offerings.

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It is an island blessed with vibrant natural beauty…

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And the sunsets, which paint the sky with colours at dusk, are second to none.

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We found dazzling displays of colour when we least expected it… Like this golden shrine at the top of Gunung Agung.

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And perhaps unsurprisingly, the Balinese traditional dress is also colourful.

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As is everything else from their dogs to their graveyards…

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Whatever the spell, I’ve fallen under it.