Chris Gravett

So on Monday 20^th January, day 6 of our 37, we left Coromandel, ‘Coro’ I’ve been advised it is referred to, to make the journey to Hawkes Bay. We are to stay in a small place called Clive, just south of Napier. Here’s a pic of Coro as we left, why on earth leave? I hear you say.South of Coromandel Town

 

First challenge of the day is to negotiate the 55km series of ups and downs and hairpin bends between Coro and Thames, all the time trying to concentrate on the road and not the spectacular views of the ocean on the left. Thames meant filling up with gas (for the guzzler that many back home have criticised me for!) and a much needed coffee. From Thames to Napier should have been pretty straightforward. We would go south via Rotorua and lake Taupo, both popular destinations for visitors to North Island but not on our itinerary. We did Rotorua about twenty five years ago and weren’t overly impressed and as you will find as our journey unfolds we have chosen an eclectic bunch of places to visit, not all first on the average tourist’s list. We went via Rotorua because Europcar suggested we call into their office there and change our vehicle for one with a functioning sat nav. If you read earlier blogs you will know the story. So we made that diversion, and it was a diversion, to visit the Europcar office at Rotorua airport. It is a small airport and not busy. In fact so quiet Emma, the Europcar rep at their office had shut up shop and left a notice “leave return keys in box” phone Emma in case of urgency. That’s how I knew her name! I wasn’t convinced my need was urgent and I had convinced myself there was no way Emma would have a Holden Arcadia DBs of a V6 4WD ready to exchange for mine with the dodgy sat nav. Never the less I called her, in fact I called all three numbers on the notice to no avail. Europcar have not endeared themselves to me yet!

 

For anyone who has not visited New Zealand you will have no doubt heard it compared to the UK of the 1950s. Such comparisons are understandable I guess especially a few years ago but are a bit unfair today. There are though many aspects of life here that are strange compared with the UK in 2020. Roads trips are one. The population of NZ is below 5 million yet the land mass is 268,000 sq km (compared with 246,000 sq km for the UK). So here there is a lot of space and not many people. Not many roads and they are not very busy (except around Auckland). This all means that for a 450km journey as ours was yesterday (includes Rotorua diversion) the journey is solely on single carriageway roads, no dual carriageways, no motorways. Now I guess that’s not been the case in the UK since the 1950s. The route from Taupo to Napier is about 140km through endless forest plantations between two mountain ranges. There are no towns or even villages and there are no petrol stations for 130km but every 30kms without fail there are charging points for electric vehicles, nothing else just charging points in the wilderness. I’ve not seen an electric vehicle since we’ve been here and not seen anyone using the charging points. Anyway respect to the Kiwis for getting the infrastructure in at the beginning!

 

It was not until the very last leg of the journey when the absence of a sat nav became an issue. A new expressway had been built between Napier and Hastings but was not on our map. (expressway is just a straighter single carriageway road). It was signed as R2 which is the same number as the road on our map, R2 which goes straight through our destination Clive. The express way doesn’t so we overshot by about 10km before we realised. Tired after the long journey I invested in a days data on my phone and arrived here in a flash.

 

Clive is a very small town with a pub, a Thai restaurant and a chip shop all a short walk from our little cottage (they are called bachs here). There’s no way we were cooking last night so after being greeted by our hosts and unpacking we made for the pub. As we arrived, about 6:30pm, it was just closing but they said we could get something at the Thai. Arriving there it was also closed as was the chippy. It would appear that Clive closes on Mondays. On a positive note they are all open for the rest of the week and on Thursday nights there is Texas Holdem poker in the pub – home from home!

Other than Mondays being come down day it is lovely here. From the rear of our property is a river along which a short walk takes you to the Pacific Ocean and there are cycle routes to Napier, Havelock North and Hastings and most important an array of wineries.

The Pacific Ocean and black beaches just a short walk from where we are staying in Clive.

 

Our five day stay in Coromandel Town ends this weekend which in some ways is sad as it’s a gem of a place. We stayed here for a couple of days in a camper van about four years ago so it was not all new and of course on our first stay we visited  the famous Driving Creek Railway built by the eccentric Barry Bricknell who has unfortunately now passed away. We didn't go back this time even though it is just a few hundred metres from our cottage but if you ever do venture here it is a must Driving Creek Railway

Yesterday we took a short, and again windy, drive east along R25 heading first of all to Kuaotunu. A natural bay with endless sandy beaches, nearly deserted, apart from an area where people come to launch their fishing boats. We of course arrived after most had sailed, well powered, off across the horizon for some sport or to catch their supper. The only evidence that they were here were numerous boat trailers hooked up to a variety of 4x4's and tractors. However they were lost in the vastness of the bay so did not spoil the experience. Facing the bay are a lot of well tasty houses with panoramic windows. They are built into the cliffs or on stilts. Pricey no doubt. There is a kind of grading with at the north end of the beach more modest chalets and holiday homes, even a campsite. The quality and size of the accommodation improves as you go south. This all culminates at Kuaotunu Village the centre piece of which is Luke’s Kitchen. A great eatery just across from the beach, staff are brilliant and pizzas to die for. There's nothing at Kuaotunu like plastic seaside attractions, fast food outlets, slots etc. just the natural world on the beaches where anyone and everyone can have adventures to their hearts desire. However if something a little more commercial is what you require Whitianga is just sixteen kilometres further South. Whitianga is a town, has a little port, a little ferry that takes you across the peninsular to some hilly walks and of course a wide array of restaurants, even an Irish pub. Our landlady describes Whitianga as 'upmarket European with real shops', make what you will of that. I think it suffice to say that it is a less rural community than Coromandel Town and light years away from Colville. The 'plastic' seaside attractions for kids are predominantly wood in structure, look fun and good exercise its all a tad better than we have at home. I guess Whitianga may be one of the tourist highlights of the Coromandel Peninsular.Kuaotunu Beach

This morning after the obligatory stop for coffee we drove to Long Bay on the west side of Coromandel. We set off to do the fairly short Kauri Tree walk which starts at the Long Bay campsite. The Kauri tree, a magnificent tree that grows to a massive size and lives forever is under threat from disease and protected wherever you walk (tramp) in New Zealand. So before setting out you walk over a grid that sprays disinfectant on the soles of your shoes. About halfway round the circular walk through enchanting native bush you come across an unbelievably giant Kauri tree. It's like Jack’s giant beanstalk only much bigger. You can look up and see mini Kew gardens of parasites growing out of where the branches sprout. It is impossible to take the whole thing in with just one look and as this monster grows out of dense bush there is little point of trying to photograph it. The tree is thought to be over 1200 years old. It’s not difficult to see why the Kiwis wish to protect it. We walked on to complete the Kauri tree walk. The end is signified by another disinfectant dip. At this point you may turn left and a five minute walk back to Long Bay or turn right and take a twenty minute route via Tucks Bay.

We visited Tucks Bay four years ago, we cycled there on a route not designed for bicycles I seem to remember so we went that way. On arrival at Tucks Bay we made for the only picnic table and benches in the little bay. Tucks Bay is a beach full of mussel colonies at one end. Behind the beach is a freedom camping area. i.e. a large area of mown grass divided into plots, each plot having a number and nothing else, no camping facilities. A few of the plots were populated by families, tents, boats, children etc. People were frolicking in the sea, fishing and playing, and the campers were going about the tasks of camping. There were not many there so lots of room for all. We sat at our table at the less populated end of the bay, looking out at the islands and generally enjoying our selves. Behind our table were two plots, unoccupied, except in the middle of one was a pile of discarded camping equipment. Fairly neatly piled and covered with two large towels but the contents spilled out, although neat the pile looked more dumped than placed. On closer inspection there were two large mattresses, a flat rubber dingy, cooking utensils, poly bags full of rags or maybe clothes, a polystyrene cool box and a set of lights from a trailer. There was no evidence of a tent. The pile looked abandoned. My mind wandered as to what the story was. It was past midday on Sunday. I decided that a group of youngsters, probably just teenagers had come to Tucks Bay for a few days for a party. After endless hours of fun they couldn’t be arsed to pack up their debris so had just piled it up and returned to Auckland or wherever. I thought, I bet the families here weren’t happy with this mini rave going on night and day and I doubted the authorities would be pleased about the fly tipping. There might even be a letter to the Coromandel Reporter!! Still we’ve all been there, haven’t we?

I was snapped out of my wandering thoughts when a beaten up old pick up truck towing a sizeable boat came roaring out of the bush and proceeded to do a circuit of Tucks Bay freedom campsite at some speed. In the boat being thrown from side to side were two children, a girl of about eleven years old and a boy of about seven. There was a massive gas BBQ strapped in the back of the pick up. The truck and boat screeched to a halt at the top of the plots where we were sitting. A woman got out, walked towards us, nodded and smiled, and began to direct the truck to reverse alongside the plots. It did so at some pace, grounding the tow bar as it crossed a small ridge. To my amazement it parked alongside the camping equipment pile missing it by just an inch or two. Impressive! The lady signalled to the children to get out of the boat and said to the kids, “right, bugger off you two’. At which point they both obediently ran across the beach and into the sea. We complemented her on her parenting skills. Dad got out of the truck, climbed into the boat and hung up wet towels the children had left. Mum rescued another sleepy five year old girl from the rear of the pick up and encouraged her to join the others in the sea. Dad commented how the kids had been swimming all morning and hopefully they would all be knackered later on.The Camper Family

Mum and Dad between them loaded the camping debris pile into the boat in an impressive organised fashion. They worked like it was a well drilled practice. The towels then laid over the boat contents like a tarp. The family was summoned and with the kids on board our new camper friends bid us farewell and drove back into the bush, more sedately than they had arrived.

We made our way round the bay and up and along the non bicycle path. Impressed and a little intrigued at what we had seen. The path eventually arrives back at Long Bay. The campsite there big and formal. Large family tents with awnings under which carpet has been laid to create a home from home. Most have bought more than the kitchen sink with them. There are shower units, a camp shop, fish filleting stations for the many anglers. The whole experience is light years away from Tuck’s Bay just along the coast. So imagine our surprise as we walked along when out of the middle of the campsite came the camping family from Tucks Bay all strutting down to the beach carrying the now inflated dingy from the pile of debris. Before my mind wandered I stopped my imagination running away with a story fitting for what we had seen. You of course are welcome to try and join the dots, I was just too far off beam last time!Tuck's Bay

Back at Orchard Cottage we sit on the deck for the last time this evening, enjoying a beer and a wine or two. The Tui bird, with it’s haunting call, lands in the white flowered bush at the end of the deck to catch insects as it does every evening as the sun goes down. We’ve had five brilliant days at Coromandel Town, tomorrow we drive South 400km to Napier. We might consider sorting the sat nav out on the way. Who knows?

 

Colville is about 30km up the peninsular from Coromandel Town. A windy, hilly route with awesome views of the coast, some enchanting bays each with few dwellings, boats and some fishing gear. Dwellings become more spaced out the further North you travel, Hereford cattle become more plentiful and the scenery more dramatic. There is an occasional camp site. Colville welcomes the visitor with an array of little buildings on each side of the street. The centre piece being Coliville General Store with its red tin roof with an array of signs and blackboards proclaiming everything from who has recently passed away, thanking the fire service for dealing with recent bush fires and so on. Most importantly proclaiming that this is the last stop for provisions and they sell everything.

An eclectic mix of people populates the area around Colville, and beyond.

 

There are numerous alternative lifestyle communes, all spiritual in some way or other but other than a Buddhist retreat most not specifically religion based. There is plenty of space for them to be able to be private but at the same time close to others in their respective communes. Artists are plentiful, self -sufficiency a goal. Coromandel General store exists to supplement the essentials required for near self-sufficiency.

Then there are three Maori tribes who do not get along with each other at all and there are the ‘red neck’ farmers who raise superb Hereford beef cattle. I guess they don’t hit if off with many of the ‘alternatives.

What I find intriguing is how teachers cope with the offspring of this diverse mix. The secondary school in Coromandel (over 60kms away for many) is the only senior education service available to the top end of the peninsular. I bet classes are fun and break times even more so.

 

Next to the general store is the post office, a quaint tin shack dominated by a mass of safety deposit looking mailboxes. It stands to reason that the postie could not possibly traipse round this massive rural, often road less area. I wonder how Amazon survive? You may laugh but we met a German lady who has lived here in a commune for over thirty years. She recently got permission from her commune buddies to take in guests through Air BnB. Is there nowhere the gig economy has not reached?

 

Outside the general store we met another German (pure coincidence I’m sure). He was a Catweasel doppelganger, wearing a kind of cloth balaclava and thermal top and sporting a heavily laden bicycle notable by the sheer weight it was carrying and the enormous bunch of wild flowers on the handlebars. Catweasel was so thin he would add little to the weight when he mounted. He told us he had been cycling around for two years and had clocked up over thirty thousand kilometres. The only giveaway that he was not straight out of the nineteenth century was his iPhone. We, not Catweasel were the ones out of place in Colville.

 

The beautiful landscape, the micro climate and the general unspoilt environment make it clear why folk like to escape the rat race and settle in a place like the top of the Coromandel peninsular. No sure they could survive without customers for their artwork, AirBnB oh and of course, their iPhones.

 

The Ibis Budget Hotel at Auckland airport is everything it says on the can. A budget hotel, very reasonably priced, no frills. The only problem is that as it is at an airport they would expect the customers to be travellers and travellers have baggage. In a budget room there is space for two no where near obese humans in a budget double room and little space for anything else – certainly not two suitcases, two hand carry bags and a ‘stealth reporter’ camera bag stuffed with a Nikon D810 and the whole range of Nikon glass from 14mm – 200mm along with a drone! So as mentioned previously sleeping in these conditions whilst suffering from a heavy cold was nigh on impossible. Hence I was up and shaving and showering in the cubicle that passes as a budget bathroom at 6am.

 

The hire car was booked for pick up at the airport for 0930 but I knew it would be ready if I arrived a little early. After a 15 minute walk to the terminal I discovered I was wrong. “your vehicle is booked for 0930 sir and right now it is 0730! I can have it here by nine’. I had no real argument but I guess my expression said otherwise. ‘ I can give you an upgrade to a premier vehicle that you can take right away sir if you wish” “How much extra?” I enquired. Just $20 per day sir but as the premier has on board sat nav you have no need to pay for the sat nav on your original order. So they cancel each other out ……nearly”. I went for the deal, not exactly a bargain but it saved 2 hours hanging around. The Europcar lady explained that the sat nav would kick in once I had exited the airport car park but I could input my destination before exiting. I didn’t bother, I knew my way back to the budget rooms where Marilyn was waiting for me, in fact we knew our way to our first destination, Coromandel. It would be about two and a half hours away.

 

So off we set in our brand new ‘premier vehicle’ a big black 4WD Chelsea Tractor, it made me feel as though I was David Beckham in a new Hummer. I’ve never been in a Hummer but as the first letter is the same as the Holden we had hired I could dream. Which is more than was possible in the budget hotel

 

The Holden

Coromandel Town is a fair way up the Coromandel peninsular which sort of turns back on itself having gone south from Auckland to reach back up to be parallel with Auckland but separated by a few miles of ocean. About 60 kilometres south of Coromandel Town is a place called Thames. Prices for everything, especially fuel, are much cheaper in Thames than in Coromandel and beyond which gives you an idea of how rural it becomes the further up the peninsular you travel. The roads are windy and hilly, in fact they eventually become just gravel once you are 40km or so north of Coromandel. The beauty is that the further up you travel the more laid back everything becomes. I guess it is like some parts of Wales but on a grander scale, with less rain and significantly less Welsh folk. There are sheep though.

 

So we stocked up with provisions in Thames, didn’t really need fuel at this point and just for fun I thought I would try out the sat nav. For some reason the sat nav insisted we were about 200km south of where we actually were and it would not budge. Marilyn suggested it was irrelevant as we knew where we were and we had a map which we both are skilled in reading. To me this was not the point I had been sold on the idea that an in car sat nav meant my upgrade to a premier vehicle was cost neutral (a little white lie from Europcar lady) so I was damm well going to use it. Well I wasn’t as it did not work. I had spotted a Holden dealer in Thames high street so popped in. Although Mr Holden and his manager were very helpful and interested and full of Kiwi ironic humour neither had much more of a clue as to what was wrong than I did. So after much head scratching, button pushing and chatting about which of their relatives were currently doing time in the UK we departed for Coromandel.

 

After an hour or so we arrived at our base for the next five days, Orchard Cottage. A lovely little cottage set, as the name implies, in an enchanting orchard full of every fruit imaginable from apples and plums to oranges, lemons and even bananas. Once settled in my thoughts returned to the sat nav. I did a very non blokey thing and referred to the manual. I pretty soon eliminated all obvious problems and resigned myself to the probability that the SDcard containing the maps was probably corrupt. Beyond that it would require attention of a Holden specialist. So I needed to call Europcar at Auckland airport which I did. After a few menu options etc I got to talk to a human. I proceeded to explain the problem, my analysis and to enquire how we could proceed. “Can you return to the airport?” said Europcar man. No I said I am in Coromandel Town and won’t be near Auckland for four weeks or more. Europcar man did not appear to understand. I said “you are at Auckland airport aren’t you?” No said Europcar man I am in the Phillipines!!!” I thought it odd I had hired a car in New Zealand from a company called Europcar but this now beggared belief. Europcar man explained if Auckland Airport do not answer the phone it diverts to the Phillipines, “ so how may I help you?’ As he obviously couldn’t I hung up. Today I called the airport again and actually got connected. They suggested I could call in at other Europcar offices, both in towns that we have no intention of visiting and simply change the vehicle. I’ll keep that option open for when we move on, in the meantime I’ll keep my eyes open for a similar Holden to our Hummer and see if I can borrow their SDcard for diagnostic purposes. In my experience Kiwis are generally up for that sort of thing so long as you don’t mention Ben Stokes.

Orchard Cottage

Thirty Seven Days On North Island

 

Marilyn and I have returned to New Zealand for a fourth time (over the last 25 years or so). This time we are not living in a motorhome as usual but are travelling around North Island staying at eight different places in an eclectic mix of rented accommodations – all booked through Book A Bach. Hopefully at the fourth attempt I will record a detailed journal of our adventure.

 

We flew from London Heathrow on Monday 13^th January 2020, economy class booked through New Zealand Airlines but flying with codeshare partners Singapore airlines. The first flight was due to take off at 10:55 so being all too aware of the poor reliability of our rail network these days and the car park that is otherwise known as the M25 we splashed out on an overnight stay at Heathrow the night before. We stayed at the Hilton Garden Inn at Terminal Two, a brand new hotel that is ideally situated if you are flying from Terminal Two.

 

In my opinion breaking up the 23 hour journey to Auckland by staying for a night or two in Singapore (or HK or KL depending on your airline) is a waste and totally counter productive especially if you have visited said cities before. It is a waste because it is an unnecessary expense and when all is said and done you’ll still be knackered on your first day in NZ. So my idea is to bite the bullet and get to the final destination ASAP. To that end we booked flights with just a 55 minute changeover at Singapore. The first flight of about 13 hours duration was uneventful. I took in three films. Rocket Man a film that is saved by the absolutely awesome music of Elton John and Yesterday an awesome film that also has some pretty good music (and hands down was the winner of the two). Along with a sweet little 90 minute film called Denmark which stars Rafe Spall, I loved it and don’t think that was totally due to the consumption of three gin and tonics along with endless red wine (although nowhere near as much as the lady sitting next to me, the other side to Marilyn). When I did manage forty winks on this first leg I woke with the uncomfortable and upsetting feeling of a cold coming on. I’ve not had a cold in ages!! We landed at Singapore and as the minutes passed by during landing it became clear that 55 minutes between flights may have been a risk. When finally the hundred or so travellers in front of us had got their acts together, remembered which overhead locker their bags were in, checked their mobile phones, scratched, farted, collected kids and finally moved along the aircraft towards the exit we embarked into the metropolis that is Changi Airport. I looked around in a semi panic for a local lass with a board saying. “ Mr Gravett connecting to flight SQ281 to Auckland follow me” but alas this is a service no longer offered. Instead we were spewed out into the endless concourse of bright lights, shops, food outlets and people who dawdle. We will miss our connexion I thought along with all the associated anxieties of the various scenarios that would follow. Gate B10 was our gate, there was no sign saying that it was “five miles away and the extra hand baggage you sneaked in will get heavier every step of the way” but that is what it felt like! Puffing and panting we arrived at the gate with just minutes to spare to find and endless queue of people waiting to go through security to actually enter and as time passed we were more front than end of queue. Why do I always panic like this?? On the second flight which was just nine hours in duration I managed to watch all 8 episodes of series one of a TV drama called Mr Mercedees. I say all eight I actually saw seven one hour episodes plus 50 minutes of episode eight so I have to wait six weeks find out how/if they actually caught him. Good drama though that I had never heard of before.

 

As we arrived in Auckland at midnight we had arranged to stay at a ‘budget hotel’ near the airport before picking up our hire car next morning. I borrowed a trolley from arrivals to ease the twenty minute walk to the hotel (I couldn’t be arsed to wait for a courtesy bus that may or may not have arrived at that time of night). As we made our way through the darkness it became clear that my cold was now full blown. That coupled with 23 hours of liberal alcohol intake and an eight hour marathon of a somewhat disturbing, well manically disturbing, TV drama series compacted into a single sitting would mean even if the budget hotel room was bigger than about four square metres I still would probably not have slept very well.

After nearly a year without a blog post I have finally made my website mobile/tablet friendly. I hear you sigh, I know it is inexcusable. I've sort of been concentrating on my Project 28 website and have neglected this my main site. So be it and here I am with a new mobile friendly site and a new blog posy.

You are probably aware that I seem to spend most of my time using my photography skills for one charity or another. That has not changed. Last weekend a friend roped me into shooting a colour run fundraising event for Letchworth Garden City Hospice. I jumped at the chance as a few days before I had attended a funeral where the deceased family could not praise the people at Garden City Hospice enough. I won't go into detail but it left me in awe of how a charity can have so mch of a positive lasting effect on a family in crisis.

So I duly turned up and chose to man the 'pink station'.

This is the objective of the fundraisers running a 2km circuit twice and subjecting themselves to colour and foam stations on the way round. They make a donation for the privilege!

Some have an alternative objective to avoid as much colour as possible - this competitor emerges from the pink station unscathed.

 

Before the start some of the youngsters take the warm up seriously - others remain as stiff as a board.

An action shot of entering the pink station.

Perhaps my favourite image from the day.

Volunteers returning from the blue station.

The day could not run without numerous volunteers and a hell of a lot of organisation. It was a family fun day and most importantly raised funds for an unbelievable charity.

Garden City Hospice

 

As of 31st July I have travelled to (and photographed) a town in each of 25 of the 28 EU states. By 20th August I will have completed all 28 and will have achieved that in just 12 months. I wonder if any UK citizen has actually visited all 28 countries previously? If they have I seriously doubt it was in a period of just 12 months. I would be interested to hear from anyone who has.

After a fairly quiet period in the first three months of the year in late April I made up for it by travelling to nine countries in just 17 days. Since then I have added four further countries.

Varna Bulgaria

 

Suceava Romania

 

Kranj Slovenia

 

Pula Coatia

 

Komarno Slovakia

 

Gyor Hungary

 

Ebensee Austria

 

Krapuly Nad Vitavou Czech Republic

 

Sosnowiec Poland

 

Following the whistle stop tour by train of the above countries I took a short break.

 

Coimbra Portugal

 

Prato Italy

 

Hennigsdorf Germany

 

Groningen Netherlands

 

 

 

So now just three countries to travel to in order to complete stage one of my project, Finland, Sweden and Denmark. 

Short days and inclement weather in the early weeks of 2017 resulted in a slow down in Project 28 activity. I did however fit in trips to France, Spain and Ireland. The towns chosen for Project 28 in those countries were Laval, Salamanca and Galway.

I chose Laval on the basis it is twinned with Boston, Lincolnshire. Other than being similar sized market towns in rural locations there are few similarities between Boston and Laval. Least of all is their attitudes towards the EU. Boston had the biggest percentage leave vote in the whole of the UK influenced very much by immigration levels. Laval on the other hand, seeing its population fall as its traditional linen industry declined, used EU funds for a technology park to attract new industries to the town offering the people an alternative to moving to major cities.

Mussee de Vieux - Chateau and Pont Vieux

This is the iconic image of Laval, the Mayenne, the chateaux and the Pont Vieux.

Laval to me was all about the river, La Mayenne.

Basilique Notre Dame d'Avesnieres

The weather during my stay was bitterly cold, the river turned to ice for much of each day. The clean cold air and winter light made for some nice images though.

Pont de l'Europe

Le Viaduct de Laval

Pont Vieux

The old bridge with the chateau on the right and the Basilique  Notre Dame d'Avesnieres in the distance.

 

 

I left Laval and headed by train to Salamanca, Spain

City Hall reflection in Plaza Mayor

Salamanca in January proved to also be bitterly cold (more so than is usual I was told) and quite wet (it is on the plain I guess). Not what one expects when visiting Spain but on the positive side I had far less tourists to wrestle with than would have been the case for most of the year.

Plaza Mayor

A friend had mentioned to me Lazarillo de Tormes so I sought out the sculpture in memory of Salamanca's most famous son.

Lazarillo de Tormes

Salamanca from Scala Coeli

If you have been following Project 28's progress you will be aware that since the outset if there is a ariel view available in the town I am visiting I take advantage of it. In Salamanca it was Scala Coeli. The climb there differed from any to date as the staircase was wooden, the stairs are narrow towards the top and finish with a tight spiral to the bell tower. There are two towers de Clerecia joined at the top by a walkway. There is a 360 degree view of Salamanca. My first ascent was met by a squally storm as I reached the top, I didn't venture out, in fact it was difficult to maintain a footing inside the tower. The following day the weather a lttle calmer enabled me to get some shots.

Catedral Nueva

The break in the weather enabled me to take a walk across the Roman bridge to the far side of the Tormes and look back at old Salamanca.

My return journey by rail involved a border crossing just South of Perpignan, on my journey to Spain I had crossed into Spain North of Irun on the Atlantic side. The crossing that way was, as one would imagine between Shengen countries, unnoticeable. The only difference I noticed when changing trains at Irun was on board the Spanish train the staff totally ignored the no smoking rule. However on my return my train, travelling from Barcelona to Lyon, stopped at Perpignan for an age. The train was boarded by numerous police and the ID of every passenger was thoroughly checked before the train moved on (40 mintes late putting connections at risk). This was my first experience of border control (other than at airports) during the project so far. I assumed it was prompted by terrorist concerns.

Next on my 'winter schedule' was Ireland, Galway in particular.

The Long Walk

I guess the colourful houses of the Long Walk are the most photographed in Galway.

The Long walk with the sun out

Friends have told me I was lucky to see them in the sun and I must admit it was brief. The term 'wild Atlantic coast' is not inappropriate.

Eyre Square

The central landmark of Galway with the Browne Doorway and the Galway Hookers. A man I met told me Galway is 'all about the Craic and the Hookers', thankfully he explained that Hookers are traditional fishing vessels before I got the wrong impression. Eyre Square is also know as Kennedy Square and there is a bust and a plaque to JFK commemorating his visit in 1963. JFK is revered in Galway more than I could ever have imagined. In fact..

JFK Mosaic

...there is even a mosaic of him in the Cathedral. I've met many from Galway who didn't know that. Rumour has it that JFK's family funded the completion of the Cathedral which was finally finished two years after his visit - progress had previously stalled due to lack of funds.

The Fourteen Tribes of Galway

Galway from Mutton Island

Nora Barnacle's House

 

As the days now lengthen and Article 50 is served I will ramp up my travels to the 28 EU states. In April I plan a whistle stop tour of nine countries in 15 days which will bring my total to 20 so there will be just 8 to go.

 

Cyprus the eigth country I visited for Project 28. My chosen town is Paphos. This would be my final visit in 2016. With days now short and in general the weather getting grim I would take a few weeks off shooting after Paphos.

Paphos Town Centre

Pafos town centre resembles a bomb site. Apart from a small area around the little bus station every street and square is in a state of refurbishment. This all in preparation for Pafos becoming the European City of Culture 2017 which kicks off in February.

Paphos Town Centre

I can't see the town being ready by then.

European City of Culture 2017

It's difficult to envisage Paphos as the European City of Culture and impossible to envisage any sort of culinary culture. The restaurants, bars and cafes both in the town and the currently somewhat more presentable port area pander to the taste of both tourist and the massive ex pat community. Both are predominantly but not exclusively British. the attraction of Cyprus to the Brits is not only the climate and relatively low cost of living but seems to also stem from the UK's military bases historic and current in Cyprus. I was in Paphos in December so not the tourist high season but I met many Brits who have either emigrated to Cyprus or at least spend the majority of the year there. Many of these had served in the military stationed in Cyprus at some point in their lives. The majority of ex pats I met hailed from Northern towns in Lancashire and Yorkshire and also the Midlands. In my brief encounters with them they gave me the impression of stereotypical 'leave' supporters, middle aged or elderly, white and from 'working class' areas. I must say most also appeared stereotypes you would expect to offer you some moody merchandise or worse. It is wrong to 'judge a book by the cover' of course. I was struck by the irony of probable Brexit supporters currently enjoying the benefits of freedom of movement and the right to reside and work anywhere in the EU. In discussing my project and their situation none volunteered any concerns about their way of life changing. Many had opinions on migrants and migration not appearing to grasp the irony of their comments.

So in the City of Culture it was not easy to grasp what the culture of Pafos or indeed Cyprus is. It looked more and more as though the town had sold its soul. Nowhere was this more apparent than in Kings Avenue.

Kings Avenue Mall

Between the port and the town is Kings Avenue Mall. The mall appears to be the pride and joy of the town. A grey metal and concrete monstrosity photographed here from one of the 'archaeological sites of special interest'. I never ventured into the mall but from seeing the signage it contains the usual raft of global corporations from Costa Coffee and Waggamama to Zara, M&S, Mango et al, I'm sure you get the picture. There is nothing particularly Cypriot or Greek about the content or the architecture. For me that's a shame.

There are in and around some examples more typical of the local culture and history. There are many archaeological sites.

Archaeological Site of Kato Pafos

Saranta Kolones Castle

To the North of the harbour lies the site of Kato Pafos. To the left of the road is a large area with many ancient building remains, catacombes, amphitheatres etc. For a small admission fee you can enjoy walking around the large archaeologocal site.

 Basilica of Chrysopolitissa

On the other side of the road are Ottoman and Medieval baths and the Basilica of Chrysopolitissa. The Basilica site for me typifies what I found to be the chaotic management, direction and planning in Pafos. Whereas in the main site one can wander amongst the ruins without restriction, which is nice from a freedom perspective but not good for preservation. Across the way at the Basilica an elevated walkway, wide enough to be able to accommodate two wheelchairs alongside each other, over the site and alongside and in front of the church. This grey metal and wooden structure has really destroyed the aesthetics of the building, it is on top of many ancient stones, foundations and pillars. One gets the impression that the construction of this platform no doubt displaced and moved many of the ruins, add to that the installation of floodlight boxes at ground level. It is difficult to imagine that this site is as it was discovered or that archaeologists had a great deal of say in its current presentation.

Sol Alter

In 2014 the Pafos2017 team selected five Cypriot artists to create twelve sculptures along the coastal path at Pafos as part of and ready for the City of Culture year. This is one, Sol Alter by Yiota Ioannidou, the others are a collection of themes with little cohesion.

 Paphos Port

The port is pleasant and I imagine very lively in the season.

Banana Plantation

To my surprise there are numerous banana plantations surrounding Pafos. I was unaware that bananas even grew there, they are unique to the Pafos area.

Fishermen Pafos Port

This scene, somewhat romantically I guess, is in my mind what I would expect. Three fishermen sitting putting the world to rights under guise of fishing. There were at least a smattering of such simple living traditional Mediterranean folk to be found in Pafos but they were lost amongst the 'immigrants' from other EU states, most notably the UK but also Germany and Scandinavia. The economy, businesses and politicians appear to panda to the needs of ex pats and tourists, understandably but sadly as the traditional way of life disappears. I wondered if being a member of the EU had accentuated this change and the globalisation epitomised by Kings Avenue Mall. I also wonder if Pafos will be ready to be the European City of Culture, if the town refurbishment will be complete before the end let alone the beginning of the year. If I'm honest I am unsure that City of Culture will ever be a description applicable to Pafos.

So Cyprus is the 8th country I have visited and the last for 2016. In late January I will be off to France and Spain followed by Ireland. Thereafter I am scheduling Bulgaria, Hungary, Romania, Slovakia, Slovenia, Croatia, Austria, Czech Republic and Poland to be covered in one rail trip. By early May I will have photographed towns in 20 of the 28 EU states. I have 8 other states to fit in from Finland to Greece.

Malta is the 7th country I visited for Project 28. Valletta is my chosen town. The first seven towns I visited for Project28 I had never visited previously however I have been to Valletta twice before, both times in the early seventies, so in theory I had some knowledge of the place albeit a long time ago. Malta is also a place I grew up hearing a lot about. My Dad used to often speak of the time he spent there whilst serving in the Royal Navy, he talked of Strait Street, known as The Gut, the street the sailors headed for when their ship was in port. So imagine my surprise when I realised my AirBnB room was above a bar in Strait Street.

Malta became part of the British Empire in 1814 and remained so until independence in 1964 (although the Queen remained Head of State) and then became a republic in 1974.

Malta received the George Cross for the part it played in WW2 during the what became known as The Siege of Malta.

Malta joined the EU on May 1st 2004 and the Eurozone in January 2008.

Grand Harbour Entrance

Malta is an island (one of three I will visit for Project28), its history, economy and people are dominated by the sea, ships and sailing. Valletta's Grand Harbour is an iconic destination for generations of sailors and cruise ship passengers.

Manoel Island Yacht Marina

Look in any direct from either side of Valletta and this will be what you are likely to see.

Recumbent Figure at Siege Bell Memorial

Valletta is on a peninsular on the east coast of Malta. On the South East point of that peninsular just inside the harbour entrance is the Siege Bell Memorial and the recumbent figure facing out to see in memory of all those who perished in the Siege of Malta 1940 - 1943.

Church of St Francis of Assisi

Malta is a catholic country. Masses have large congregations throughout the week, not just on Sundays.

Valletta from Marsamxett Harbour

These wooden balconies are abundant in Valletta and indeed throughout Malta. They became fashionable in the mid eighteenth century. Green became a popular colour introduced and favoured by the British.

St Ursula Street

A typical narrow undulating street in Valletta with popular wooden balconies populating both sides of the street.

Our Lady of Mount Carmel and St Paul's Anglican Cathedral

One of Valletta's iconic views. The stone along with churches on the skyline typify Valletta.

Sliema Waterfront

Sliema, a short boat ride across Marsamxett Harbour, along with St Juliens, is today like an extension of Valletta.

Parliament Building

Freedom Square and City Gate

 Enter through the city gate and Freedom Square lays ahead and to the right is the new Parliament Building.

Fort Manoel. Manoel Island

Manoel Island lies across Masamxett harbour. The fort on the island remains the subject of a 16 year ongoing dispute regarding public access which is currently prohibited.

Malta's economy is dependent on tourism, a freight transit point and increasingly competing with Ireland and Luxembourg in cross border fund administration. There is also a growing business of film production with incentives being offered to film makers. The Maltese are still close to the British with Britons making up a high percentage of of non- Maltese. The population has tripled over the last 100 years and although the smallest population of any EU state Malta has the highest density of population in the EU in fact one of the highest in the world.