tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43734580705213705512024-03-14T03:41:48.096+00:00ryanchapman.netHere's my blog. Expect film project updates, some travel writing and a sprinkle of this and that.Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.comBlogger59125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-29255287212248549542023-12-30T19:39:00.000+00:002023-12-30T19:39:35.330+00:00Earthquakes and muscle aches<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);">Kathmandu was just as I expected: a filthy, chaotic clusterfuck of a place. All-encompassingly captivating and unrelentingly exhausting.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">Temples and shrines sit curb-side on pollution-choked roads where porters, hawkers and street dogs jostle for position. Entire streets look like they could collapse at any second, but somehow they stay standing, and somehow Kathmandu’s tired, exhaust-blackened heart keeps beating.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8bpx58-11jzwPaRhyphenhyphenFClg7Wm1zk6z4XdY33Y8WwaUIUrwhCzl0xX1zbV7AoUZqIw1uFYVRmGywn0h4uCNNvIrb9Gr_uYUrTZooG9MYGO9Uma7yq3w3Y7_53v-M1FTKrzPZ62P_uph8Yr9tLlUTblixMvrOpcFnrgIuLftwAgQ83RDT0dOa6HCe88qS3F/s4730/7E8A8052.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3153" data-original-width="4730" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8bpx58-11jzwPaRhyphenhyphenFClg7Wm1zk6z4XdY33Y8WwaUIUrwhCzl0xX1zbV7AoUZqIw1uFYVRmGywn0h4uCNNvIrb9Gr_uYUrTZooG9MYGO9Uma7yq3w3Y7_53v-M1FTKrzPZ62P_uph8Yr9tLlUTblixMvrOpcFnrgIuLftwAgQ83RDT0dOa6HCe88qS3F/w640-h426/7E8A8052.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);">The Nepali capital had been on my radar since I was about eight, thanks to Cotton-Eyed Joe - the 90’s hit that took school discos by storm. Where had he come from? Where did he go? Well, for reasons that remain a mystery, I thought the answer was Kathmandu.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">This misheard lyric had marked Kathmandu on my conscience indelibly, and it wasn’t until I’d booked my flights nearly 30 years later that I googled the words and noticed my mistake. Oh well, too late now. Luckily in the proceeding three decades I’d developed other motivations for visiting Nepal. Namely, to trek in the Himalayas and eat as many momos as humanly possible.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxPfmGBnRSLtaPDnl0_OSOaBcfhnWQpjpJ7sLmVUI1NWlin_p5IddF8je-jgj0dTASsIat6o7KHYBrmv1zV4ufBSd7mHTjiiEN44H1OL2VFyTU4vveCwkt1oOyW0F5xpOGfwj-boaLhub0AXeSgURhKg-2MQjN058I9oSM6DAEZt5UHlYwbevLuU4VfFD/s4987/7E8A7692.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4987" data-original-width="3325" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSxPfmGBnRSLtaPDnl0_OSOaBcfhnWQpjpJ7sLmVUI1NWlin_p5IddF8je-jgj0dTASsIat6o7KHYBrmv1zV4ufBSd7mHTjiiEN44H1OL2VFyTU4vveCwkt1oOyW0F5xpOGfwj-boaLhub0AXeSgURhKg-2MQjN058I9oSM6DAEZt5UHlYwbevLuU4VfFD/w266-h400/7E8A7692.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);">I had a week to mooch about before the trek so I swung by Chitwan National Park for a couple of days of reasonably successful rhino and elephant spotting, before heading to the lakeside city of Pokhara. People raved about this place but I wasn’t a huge fan. I found it to be just as dirty as Kathmandu with none of the charm (stick that in the brochure!). Sure, lakes are nice, but perhaps try fishing out the plastic bottles before attempting to coax me onto a pleasure boat.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">One evening in Pokhara I was sat in the only bar I’d found that made a passable whiskey sour, daydreaming about effective waste management in the developing world, and considering a midnight momo dash. There was a live rock band playing classic covers so loud that no one noticed the earthquake. At least I certainly didn’t, but to be fair the sours were not only passable; they were strong. </p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">The next day it was the talk of the town. At least 150 people had died in rural areas to the west. The deadliest in Nepal for nearly a decade. And so then when it was time to head into the mountains, I did so with earthquakes on my mind.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnwmhyphenhyphen19cU22LUlU1QWWhIWUv1KRJ8mZTkmgPWlmXtj9zfXNO7Iea9b8zxKosdVh-Uzw4BeswvEQI0J0BQQ2_5plCvOgOo-EN1gEd33BdJivILMWCKlcsZgN1ja_PgGIIiMSq4iaMWBt3lDVkKSjiDMtrUQQBW7J5srkFEWi-pev_M1hxl9b6KUcP93AAq/s5472/7E8A7930.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnwmhyphenhyphen19cU22LUlU1QWWhIWUv1KRJ8mZTkmgPWlmXtj9zfXNO7Iea9b8zxKosdVh-Uzw4BeswvEQI0J0BQQ2_5plCvOgOo-EN1gEd33BdJivILMWCKlcsZgN1ja_PgGIIiMSq4iaMWBt3lDVkKSjiDMtrUQQBW7J5srkFEWi-pev_M1hxl9b6KUcP93AAq/w640-h426/7E8A7930.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);">The trek was - perhaps unsurprisingly considering the Himalayas is home to 9 of the 10 tallest mountains in the world - relentlessly <i>up</i>. Up literally thousands of stone steps, up winding forest trails, up zig-zigging hillside paths. Occasionally followed by a little bit of down, but then twice as much up again. Even the flat bits weren’t really flat. The joke amongst trekkers and mountain guides is that the flatter parts are merely ‘Nepali flat’. I politely laughed at that pithy observation more times than I can count.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">I had mostly put the earthquake to the back of my mind, but as I was checked into a my room on the first night of the trek I was suddenly all too aware. I couldn’t help but wonder how well this flimsy looking guesthouse, clinging to the side of the mountain, would hold up. Well, I was quite literally about to find out.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBphvH4tRV5Dfus54AxzpPaz4KBfW_Qd-BHaro0BwpqPf1lwrDoS7MB6yhlTCdrjZJ-cW4RInEkmWxbHiWgGwFD0dVg9jF9GEShXCBnohZkOttSyO_J-Ru9DC7NQq8Gw-vuopVGngNgNdihpezuK3D_uKVBrJcTr7Fp78nPC7VTSPqz3nPlbwroiLnEG0N/s2048/IMG_7563.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBphvH4tRV5Dfus54AxzpPaz4KBfW_Qd-BHaro0BwpqPf1lwrDoS7MB6yhlTCdrjZJ-cW4RInEkmWxbHiWgGwFD0dVg9jF9GEShXCBnohZkOttSyO_J-Ru9DC7NQq8Gw-vuopVGngNgNdihpezuK3D_uKVBrJcTr7Fp78nPC7VTSPqz3nPlbwroiLnEG0N/w300-h400/IMG_7563.jpeg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);">I’d barely put down my trekking poles when the room began to shake. And it was then I realised I didn’t really know what to do. I’d heard something about door frames being a safer place if there were no tables to get under, and there were definitely no tables in my tiny concrete and ply wood cell. I ignored the door frame thing and swiftly left the way I’d just come in. For a split second I considered running, but I didn’t want to cause a scene.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">No obvious damage had been done - apart from to my already fragile confidence of not dying in an earthquake - but the next day I read an article with a warning from scientists that the two tremors of the previous three days could be a sign that a “massive earthquake is imminent”. I really didn’t like the sound of that so I drank some local ‘wine’ to take my mind off it. It tasted like barely diluted methylated spirit, but sure, we’ll call it wine.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzq8J8m5nnOrLWNwf9NJBJCvzKu-awztQt_doAA5feffsx67MENn1Nt3d5NMu2zyFF_Y6dM2bhLmq3SIlg_oS0WpdS1QTdFgMf0sXXqrOUTajO0EWNeg11UW7ppD0mU3afMDsMd1cOBPtUz3oZTYfkMgsz3A2HO0XgvIh4ki5jh7VwGwLigfxFnG1CEv5/s4183/7E8A7844.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4183" data-original-width="2789" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilzq8J8m5nnOrLWNwf9NJBJCvzKu-awztQt_doAA5feffsx67MENn1Nt3d5NMu2zyFF_Y6dM2bhLmq3SIlg_oS0WpdS1QTdFgMf0sXXqrOUTajO0EWNeg11UW7ppD0mU3afMDsMd1cOBPtUz3oZTYfkMgsz3A2HO0XgvIh4ki5jh7VwGwLigfxFnG1CEv5/w266-h400/7E8A7844.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);">I had originally set off with just a backpack and a mountain guide called Chandra, but bonds with other trekkers formed quickly on the trail. I bonded with an old German couple as we bitched about the huge group of obnoxious Chinese trekkers barging and yelling their way along the trail, then bonded with a family from the Czech Republic as we drank beer and played cards. I bonded with some Brits over something about the weather and then told one of the Chinese blokes that if I saw him kicking a dog again I’d kick him back twice as fucking hard. Relationships that I’ll treasure forever.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">With each night of the trek, as we got deeper into the Himalayas, the accommodation got more rustic and by the last night I was checked into a rabbit hutch with a wooden plank for a bed, dirty quilts, and gaps around the window that my finger could fit through, let alone the chilly mountain air.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">But every single moment of discomfort was worth it for the sunrises. Words could never do them justice, so I won’t bother trying. One morning, after an especially early rise, I stood in stunned silence for over an hour watching the sunlight slowly creep across the mountain range, completely ignoring how cold I was. I was well and truly hypnotised and<span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);"> officially under the Himalayan spell.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);"><br /></span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_abLYNXHcXZOm6WgoUMFAUrQNTnPkdBiDz7PqF9mK8Nbb5pKM-ivpHgDBCHd_zUFRnM4s4ywwC1ClwJbfzkxtn_1rDpYvAyjSFD3__MN2okp9bEULpDwdqF5g5S2R2eDX62BoqwLahxVmkN8DlFCM6-tSwXfH7by7MOH9YEt1BmkETgFVbIQLOEZmgbgZ/s4831/7E8A7959.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3221" data-original-width="4831" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_abLYNXHcXZOm6WgoUMFAUrQNTnPkdBiDz7PqF9mK8Nbb5pKM-ivpHgDBCHd_zUFRnM4s4ywwC1ClwJbfzkxtn_1rDpYvAyjSFD3__MN2okp9bEULpDwdqF5g5S2R2eDX62BoqwLahxVmkN8DlFCM6-tSwXfH7by7MOH9YEt1BmkETgFVbIQLOEZmgbgZ/w640-h426/7E8A7959.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);"><br /></span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);">After the trek, against my better judgement, I boarded a local bus back to Pokhara rather than the more tourist-friendly jeep option. Sure, the winding pot-holed mountain roads with sheer drops at every turn looked like a death trap, but how bad could it really be? Turns out very, very bad.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">I could just about handle being squeezed in to a bus at least three times over capacity with people practically sat on my lap and others with elbows pressed against my head. I could just about handle the heat. And the dust billowing through the open windows. And I could just about handle being violently thrown around, clattering against a metal pole, and involuntarily shoulder-barging old ladies as we bounced along the mountain track.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">But then, two hours into the ordeal - I guessed about half way - as I grimaced through the discomfort, there was an explosion right beneath me, followed immediately by a gushing hiss. For a few seconds I thought we were about to careen off the road into the valley below as the bus swerved side-to-side, the driver battling to regain control with only three of the four back wheels intact.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">We didn’t immediately grind to a halt but when we did I wondered how long we’d be stuck there while they replaced the tyre, or even if they had a spare at all. To my horror, however, the bus had only stopped to let more people on and was apparently going to limp on regardless. Well, this was the final straw. I looked behind me and through the dirt of the back window I could just about make out my saviour: a man standing by his taxi waiting for a fare. I was off that bus quicker than you can say Cotton-Eyed Joe.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">The following day, with my calf muscles screaming and barely able to function, I boarded another bus back to Kathmandu. Depending on the source it was going to take anything from 8-14 hours due to a miserable cocktail of holiday traffic, landslides and road works. I sat there wondering why I find any of this fun.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijRh1qAp1ioEyHxtr8kH9_NAuuFrR0rk2zU8uv9e9UFz60YdqagATSiB-ehGcuef30qGyuJaMao9Q-bE_Rq-kukcKCNtrEPvUgFcpZIke01Soydg0YmxQ69o8CZfO4pbnCQ-Nsyhyr9ziFHraZQ7vORzxyLFQdzpdirUewuQmV2Wy8BVfDCp0fF6Nsc3fN/s4362/7E8A8181.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4362" data-original-width="3490" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijRh1qAp1ioEyHxtr8kH9_NAuuFrR0rk2zU8uv9e9UFz60YdqagATSiB-ehGcuef30qGyuJaMao9Q-bE_Rq-kukcKCNtrEPvUgFcpZIke01Soydg0YmxQ69o8CZfO4pbnCQ-Nsyhyr9ziFHraZQ7vORzxyLFQdzpdirUewuQmV2Wy8BVfDCp0fF6Nsc3fN/w320-h400/7E8A8181.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);">Back in Kathmandu it was festival time. Shopkeepers were decorating their storefronts with strings of marigolds and everyone else hung garish fairy lights stuck in strobe mode. Kids set off fireworks whenever the mood struck them, which often coincided with when you were least expecting them. As if Kathmandu needed a reason to be more chaotic.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">The second day of the annual five-day long festival is dedicated to dogs, who luckily didn't seem to mind the fireworks. They were all glammed up with garlands and tilaka markings and plied with biscuits all day to thank them for their loyalty. At least, most of them were. I began feeling sad for the dogs I saw getting no attention, so I went to a Hindu temple to witness an open air human cremation ceremony to lighten my mood.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcSx-jQb1QlB1lk3s7MJWQMt2F3zAQKw4MDE-gT7xz1dpZ2hTmsaEdq838jRi7LNnTTqFU_CAZ1sj3omlgvfVRlau24TxyhA8wyxq0Ixzey0wZvaYUhUYn1hqz-9c8FtoW4LEfkVFulO0pmndmKd6d1r5sID77_KzKmEX5PePyoU3SgEOej4ksAZHE6xi/s4908/7E8A8071.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3272" data-original-width="4908" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzcSx-jQb1QlB1lk3s7MJWQMt2F3zAQKw4MDE-gT7xz1dpZ2hTmsaEdq838jRi7LNnTTqFU_CAZ1sj3omlgvfVRlau24TxyhA8wyxq0Ixzey0wZvaYUhUYn1hqz-9c8FtoW4LEfkVFulO0pmndmKd6d1r5sID77_KzKmEX5PePyoU3SgEOej4ksAZHE6xi/w640-h426/7E8A8071.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);">All festival-ed out - and having seen one too many human corpses being ceremoniously set alight for one day, thank you very much - it was time to leave the clamour of Kathmandu behind. As my plane took off I </span><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);">surveyed the Himalayas from my window seat wondering which peak was Everest, reflecting about life and earthquakes. But mostly earthquakes. There’s nothing like a hefty registering on the Richter scale to bring the power of </span><span style="font-size: var(--font-size-small);">Mother Nature front of mind.</span></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">A month later and 40,000 people who survived the earthquake are still living under sheets of tarpaulin. This, in places where the temperature at night is basically zero. People - including mothers and their newborn babies - are dying in the cold. Simply put, Nepal is too poor to rebuild. The earthquake may have been deadly enough to get a Wikipedia page, but not quite deadly enough to garner sufficient international sympathy. I’m not judging - there’s enough going on.</p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;"><br style="box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px; padding-bottom: 5px;" /></p><p style="box-sizing: border-box; counter-reset: list-1 0 list-2 0 list-3 0 list-4 0 list-5 0 list-6 0 list-7 0 list-8 0 list-9 0; cursor: text; font-size: var(--font-size-small) !important; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; text-align: justify;">So, um, give if you can..? I didn’t plan to end like this, but it’d be remiss of me not to share <a href="https://www.redcross.org.uk/about-us/what-we-do/international/nepal?c_code=175151&c_source=google&c_name=&adg=about%20us%20|%20catchall&c_creative=dsa&c_medium=cpc&gad_source=1&gclid=CjwKCAiA-bmsBhAGEiwAoaQNmpFWk64l3J3XnyzZkvDZUiXHcCJ5kdKKziymPpKFE44dCsYINke0pRoCn4EQAvD_BwE" target="_blank">this link</a> where you can support the ongoing relief effort. And then I guess the other thing you could do is give Nepal your tourism. Sure, for the food and for the culture, but mainly for those sunrises.</p>Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-27045153688791458732023-03-17T13:48:00.000+00:002023-03-17T13:48:57.693+00:00Cocaine, no gain<p style="text-align: justify;">There’s so much more to Colombia than drugs and violent gang warfare, despite what concerned relatives might think. It boasts an abundance of natural beauty, vibrant cities and some of the warmest people you’ll ever meet. And I really wish I could say good coffee, but most of that is exported.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTgSLR5pGRUt-C-p809vx9nT9sKZHcUYO_ubIq5K9gaSIsKH29UCgP7tOGsumY4IytjuM2E3KEVqIMqP-rSanRyGLi1T5WdabG9_Mttr_jWqk_eOIsiCrDXx8JDP19jk4BfqdAbDYpUN0GV9RQvnuNGu1nBV4VB-3zyqURZxc8D1Z7UwTWU8gPKdrHQ/s5033/7E8A2894.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3355" data-original-width="5033" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPTgSLR5pGRUt-C-p809vx9nT9sKZHcUYO_ubIq5K9gaSIsKH29UCgP7tOGsumY4IytjuM2E3KEVqIMqP-rSanRyGLi1T5WdabG9_Mttr_jWqk_eOIsiCrDXx8JDP19jk4BfqdAbDYpUN0GV9RQvnuNGu1nBV4VB-3zyqURZxc8D1Z7UwTWU8gPKdrHQ/w640-h427/7E8A2894.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Cocora Valley, Colombia © Ryan Chapman</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">As for the drugs, Colombia maybe synonymous with cocaine, but the majority of Colombians are desperate to shake free from the narco state connotations.</div><p style="text-align: justify;">And as for the violence, Colombia currently enjoys a fragile peace. A fragility that was emphasised by a divisive referendum in 2016 in which Colombians voted marginally against a peace agreement between the government and the armed revolutionary group, FARC.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">It wasn’t rejected because people would rather live in a war zone, but because the terms of the deal compromised too heavily with the rebels, letting many of them off the hook. And the prevailing attitude was ‘hell no, farc them’.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">As the New York Times put it, “the peace deal was always a tug of war between peace and justice. And the demand for justice won.”</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVYQWgsdO3BygCpM_Pwc6Z4IbQW3vFST4LpeCsva5UPbW2zpTVWbxUvQHM0kSnL5cU4pgwFS2-7OrVR4RcF7OyXsL9RK-arbKwsHi8NcHvURGpy18KKpfmt44VUNsuMo5NlmSTHvi0wI_bVnDKhUCTiy69ugjQEYHRptph8jmThDwI6kd7IqNAzUwMgw/s2278/7E8A2840.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1518" data-original-width="2278" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVYQWgsdO3BygCpM_Pwc6Z4IbQW3vFST4LpeCsva5UPbW2zpTVWbxUvQHM0kSnL5cU4pgwFS2-7OrVR4RcF7OyXsL9RK-arbKwsHi8NcHvURGpy18KKpfmt44VUNsuMo5NlmSTHvi0wI_bVnDKhUCTiy69ugjQEYHRptph8jmThDwI6kd7IqNAzUwMgw/w640-h426/7E8A2840.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: small;">Hummingbird © Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Justice may have won the battle but it was at the cost of compromise, without which peace will seldom win a war. And no where is that more evident than in the city of Medellin and its once notorious district Commune 13. </div><p style="text-align: justify;">Until recently Commune 13 was a no-go zone. Not just considered one of the most dangerous neighbourhoods in Colombia, but the world. Ruled by Pablo Escobar’s Medellin Cartel, it was trapped in a seemingly endless cycle of gang wars, military interventions and corruption.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghF9615Ep53sBkbAXMK5W6y9h8sm8GI_cQi3FovXKTM342e-bwEVX3-HueC0ZGWJml_1UXXIHy_i7INHoDZniljgLWINUFWjN6NrDUzOue8indldOConub55f1ywTFz07sYDC02HjJr1Cw5LEmIDv9kVVwoIR7KWRFTVje9sJOPM8VgPX1nyCN44ce0Q/s4160/7E8A3192.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2773" data-original-width="4160" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghF9615Ep53sBkbAXMK5W6y9h8sm8GI_cQi3FovXKTM342e-bwEVX3-HueC0ZGWJml_1UXXIHy_i7INHoDZniljgLWINUFWjN6NrDUzOue8indldOConub55f1ywTFz07sYDC02HjJr1Cw5LEmIDv9kVVwoIR7KWRFTVje9sJOPM8VgPX1nyCN44ce0Q/w640-h426/7E8A3192.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: small;">Commune 13, Colombia © Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: justify;">Today, thanks in large part to art, music and dance, it’s a vibrant forward-looking community hellbent on social transformation. It’s the sound of hip-hop beats not gunfire echoing around the labyrinth of streets, and the once bullet hole-ridden walls are awash with colourful street art.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">According to our guide for the afternoon however, despite its new look, Commune 13 never completely ridded itself of gang influence. “If we have a problem we don’t call the police, we call the gang” she admitted, before hinting this service doesn’t come cheap. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">That’s the compromise that residents of Commune 13 have settled on in exchange for peace. I asked her if the aim was to one day rid the community of gang culture altogether and her response wasn’t exactly filled with optimism.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEionNHU4luXeuKQ3ut4ISi6i7t_VoriCK1A_TavHnW2BQM5d_HlvGXDe3erAD1IH9TvzQgEFg-eIUwomtqoQLMAGKb4XVTHDdsw1l0h4MZ2EO4zBrE7f3WsfnQ-DnfhyjinnuE-CuhwKMLvHSvPru9kQDZGFZqvwNLeI9fUe1tqzMIwfr9rhe9vOz9kvw/s3768/7E8A3142.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3768" data-original-width="3014" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEionNHU4luXeuKQ3ut4ISi6i7t_VoriCK1A_TavHnW2BQM5d_HlvGXDe3erAD1IH9TvzQgEFg-eIUwomtqoQLMAGKb4XVTHDdsw1l0h4MZ2EO4zBrE7f3WsfnQ-DnfhyjinnuE-CuhwKMLvHSvPru9kQDZGFZqvwNLeI9fUe1tqzMIwfr9rhe9vOz9kvw/w512-h640/7E8A3142.JPG" width="512" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: small;">Commune 13, Colombia © Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: justify;">In Medellin this yearning for peace and regeneration - at any cost - is tangible, and a trip to Commune 13 sets it in stone. In urban areas like this memories of a brutal past do still lurk in the shadows, but exploring the rest of Colombia the violence seems like it’s from another era. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">After all, what can be more peaceful than trotting through the verdant Andean foot-hills on horseback and stopping for a red wine picnic; or relaxing in thermal spas under naturally heated waterfalls; or sipping cocktails while the waves of the Caribbean splash onto surrounding palm trees. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmYhkXh4lHoLX5bAxGm7tG1F2D-HKWKgYsOCY7zcZq5TTeKb_qpNsYUvw0FwPEZPMsjJbiBFvT64a5DBBNj-dj6EYu2tAYV5AtnK3oS2fWaKZyCW_wlLm54Kp-xpIBMo6FPJ2aQ7K9xDoyuP_qIGlarnoN4vV16JXqy7YYUjy2oMokCo8O6Ixaphg_6w/s5093/7E8A3834.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3395" data-original-width="5093" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmYhkXh4lHoLX5bAxGm7tG1F2D-HKWKgYsOCY7zcZq5TTeKb_qpNsYUvw0FwPEZPMsjJbiBFvT64a5DBBNj-dj6EYu2tAYV5AtnK3oS2fWaKZyCW_wlLm54Kp-xpIBMo6FPJ2aQ7K9xDoyuP_qIGlarnoN4vV16JXqy7YYUjy2oMokCo8O6Ixaphg_6w/w640-h426/7E8A3834.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: small;">Palomino, Colombia © Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: justify;">Most peaceful of all, though, is the warmth and hospitality of the people. Perhaps in a conscious effort to counter the country’s negative stereotypes, but I suspect simply because they’re just really nice. Always welcoming, always polite, always going out of their way to help.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Any attempt to glorify Pablo Escobar is likely to be met with a frosty reception, but avoid the narco tourism and Colombians will warm to you like you've already warmed to them.</p>Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-10223813251665443372023-02-24T09:51:00.002+00:002023-02-24T09:54:10.395+00:00[Film] Vitae Shelter: From the Ashes<p style="text-align: justify;"><b>In a past life Vitae Shelter was a notoriously wild party hostel — now it’s on the frontline of humanitarian aid.</b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9YXMLvRSCQ3aeq-cHCAdqMQsoZqVlZt13n4z21PdSu0rJFR87hA5XETM7zlLLI5fEcMzMWwORTRkaCj5I3VrCsUo5I44sVpha-ftVj_kRb31rympL0p4OiPP1Q9gA4apkLp45z7kfOfqgBs6diKpKsrAYqedr10ux_0dJqryeThyHmffZ4e32W4uE_Q/s1920/poster1.png" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9YXMLvRSCQ3aeq-cHCAdqMQsoZqVlZt13n4z21PdSu0rJFR87hA5XETM7zlLLI5fEcMzMWwORTRkaCj5I3VrCsUo5I44sVpha-ftVj_kRb31rympL0p4OiPP1Q9gA4apkLp45z7kfOfqgBs6diKpKsrAYqedr10ux_0dJqryeThyHmffZ4e32W4uE_Q/w640-h360/poster1.png" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">I first met Ian as a fresh-faced backpacker in the summer of 2009, when he checked me in to his hostel Carpe Noctem. He made me a cup of tea and spent 15 minutes telling me about Budapest, including all the ways we were going to ‘seize the night’.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Carpe Noctem was well on its way to winning Hostel World’s ‘Most Fun Hostel in the World’ award, so I knew to expect a party. But it wasn’t until I arrived that I realised what the name actually meant. I hadn’t learnt any Hungarian before visiting Budapest, and I sure as hell hadn’t learnt any Latin.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Over the next decade I checked in to that hostel about 20 times, seizing in excess of a hundred nights. It wasn’t long before I felt part of the furniture and I’d often book my next trip before I’d even finished the last. As the sign warns above the door: you can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Carpe Noctem soon gained siblings and Budapest Party Hostels was born, growing to an empire of six hostels, comprising of over 500 beds. And although Ian is far too humble to admit it, there’s no doubt the hostels he co-owned helped propel the city of Budapest to one of Europe’s top backpacking destinations.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">But then along came Covid to ruin just about everything. And a couple of years later along came Putin to ruin it some more.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">In February 2022, when Russia invaded Ukraine and refugees began pouring over the Hungarian border, Ian wanted to do something to help. “People wanted to go and fight Russians” he told me, with the hint that by ‘people’ he really meant himself, “but I think everyone realised they’d just get shot in the first week”.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Ultimately, Ian decided that his talents lay elsewhere. “Making beds and filling them with people - that’s probably the only thing I’m actually qualified to do which is any use at all.” So he decided to use one of the empty hostels that had been a casualty of Covid and turn it into a refugee shelter.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">My film <i>Vitae Shelter: From the Ashes</i> not only tells the story of the shelter itself and some of the people who found refuge there, but also of its previous life as a hostel, and draws an unlikely parallel between the two.</p><div style="text-align: justify;"><i>Vitae Shelter: From the Ashes</i> is online here:</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/g4aGfxPbN6Q" width="480" youtube-src-id="g4aGfxPbN6Q"></iframe></div><br /><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div>If you'd like to donate the shelter’s <a href="https://gofund.me/0fb6d015" target="_blank">GoFundMe</a> page is still live. Alternatively, there’s the <a href="https://donate.redcross.org.uk/ukraine/donate">Red Cross Ukraine Crisis Appeal</a>. </div><div><br /></div></div>Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-69910678593604380312022-09-30T18:00:00.002+01:002022-09-30T18:00:56.573+01:00The Liechtenstein Trail<p>Liechtenstein has that small town feel: everyone in their twenties has left and it’s completely dead after 6pm. Those remaining all want a chat at the bus stop and the bus driver isn’t content with a mere hello and goodbye - they want to know how your day is going and what you’re up to at the weekend (which really stretched my German).</p><p>As a result of being surrounded by all that geniality I caught myself assuming all 38,000 Liechtensteiners must know each other. Which is a wild assumption to make considering I live in a village of 5,000 people myself and know significantly more dogs by name than humans.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9UMkkGCvpI2LASTdUVqEW_5JCCDV0RawEmtrrplAfF0buICNZpjSUygI1LDwSne4rhl4uZsSrHtvggbrVra_lAXZLRHKKLdtpmttlbZQuT08QVjltCSZOqH2avrDghLlIJTXHrUQgSfpnWeKwHfTsM9yWzq-Rsg96Jk6nRAgtwSV9YPiXlvRT-IPCSA/s5066/7E8A7919edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3377" data-original-width="5066" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9UMkkGCvpI2LASTdUVqEW_5JCCDV0RawEmtrrplAfF0buICNZpjSUygI1LDwSne4rhl4uZsSrHtvggbrVra_lAXZLRHKKLdtpmttlbZQuT08QVjltCSZOqH2avrDghLlIJTXHrUQgSfpnWeKwHfTsM9yWzq-Rsg96Jk6nRAgtwSV9YPiXlvRT-IPCSA/w640-h426/7E8A7919edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Ryan Chapman</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Anyway, I had little time for small talk. I was there to hike the 50-mile Liechtenstein Trail that snakes its way through the tiny Alpine nation from the Swiss border in the south to the Austrian border in the north. </p><p>You could walk the entire length of Liechtenstein in less than a few hours - the furthest points are only 15 miles apart, after all - but it’s fair to say the trail takes a more scenic route. In fact it barely leaves any stone unturned as it twists and turns through farms, forests and villages, annoyingly skipping anything else I can think of beginning with f.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9195-WoNBzC2Q2N9N8YwjSI0zN_0UNpK6_p6l_bppXuz14MuOTpi0bXY5SqVjBlztgY5vCfhIxD50ucqZ0ZiWXR0b_oDqfE8w__gFm1O6W2A5bpKIuogc0-sLWjGjvy4eqXr49zCepaSjHAmpbscEQwK6u3PRWcT8y64N8o43PYVDtDpqwDERyyxqaQ/s4558/7E8A7943edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3039" data-original-width="4558" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9195-WoNBzC2Q2N9N8YwjSI0zN_0UNpK6_p6l_bppXuz14MuOTpi0bXY5SqVjBlztgY5vCfhIxD50ucqZ0ZiWXR0b_oDqfE8w__gFm1O6W2A5bpKIuogc0-sLWjGjvy4eqXr49zCepaSjHAmpbscEQwK6u3PRWcT8y64N8o43PYVDtDpqwDERyyxqaQ/w640-h426/7E8A7943edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Ryan Chapman</td></tr></tbody></table><p>The official guide recommends you take five days. I did it in four. But even three would be doable at a stretch. If you have some unexplained desire, as I did, to visit Liechtenstein and see it literally all in one go, then I would recommend it. Here are five things to consider:</p><p><b>1. Liechtenstein is expensive.</b></p><p>Even more so than the most London-y places in London. One evening I paid £16 for a chicken doner from a kebab van because the only restaurant I could see nearby wanted over thirty quid for some Bolognese. And I have a limit.</p><p>To save those precious Swiss francs each morning I smuggled a picnic out of my hotel's breakfast buffet to have later. Fortunately, cheese and tomato rolls washed down with fresh ice-cold Alpine water direct from the source is exactly what I fancied for lunch each day anyway.</p><p><b>2. Stay in one place</b></p><p>Every section of the trail is well connected by bus, so you can easily stay in the same hotel for the whole trip and just bus your way back to where you finished the previous day.</p><p>I stayed in Trisenburg, which turned out to be ideal.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKido_YiVfGkMelLsT9HA_Lh8Z6JWByOpvGEFZzdTVGjeVi4BVm11aT2FAXmLkm4ulrHZaMBFGndXwVtNgMnjvU4EgID80240lPZAJtQ5yHMl8Zh2KrTwM3y-hf_Pb36PgOmb2JaWykc1raNb0_tC4klZAHpoq9vwc9Pa7pmeYjEmPFOt1-Txl_gPWVQ/s5227/7E8A7985edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3485" data-original-width="5227" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKido_YiVfGkMelLsT9HA_Lh8Z6JWByOpvGEFZzdTVGjeVi4BVm11aT2FAXmLkm4ulrHZaMBFGndXwVtNgMnjvU4EgID80240lPZAJtQ5yHMl8Zh2KrTwM3y-hf_Pb36PgOmb2JaWykc1raNb0_tC4klZAHpoq9vwc9Pa7pmeYjEmPFOt1-Txl_gPWVQ/w640-h426/7E8A7985edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Ryan Chapman</td></tr></tbody></table><p><b>3. Don't be tempted to cut corners</b></p><p>Due to the meandering nature of the trail you will be tempted to cut some corners. And, to be honest, some of the more suburban parts are fairly dull. But the scenery often changes quite abruptly, so you never know what you might miss around the next corner. So don’t!</p><p>Plus, if you haven't slogged around every single inch of the trail yourself, how would you ever look at yourself in the mirror ever again?</p><p><b>4. The Liechtenstein Trail is a gateway drug to Alpine hiking</b></p><p>By Alpine standards, the trail sticks to relatively low ground, and below the level of any lingering springtime snow. So it might leave you wanting more. Luckily, Liechtenstein can provide it.</p><p>On my last day, with several hours until my flight, I took the bus up the mountain to Malbon and Steg which were absolutely jaw-droppingly stunning, and I had them entirely to myself.</p><p>I find it odd that more people don’t come to these places out of skiing season. For one, you don’t have to pretend to enjoy hurtling down a mountainside to your almost certain death. It was just me and a family of marmots frolicking in the spring sunshine.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigrzSHs3FqiKQshFAAqvU2C_FrpU0MNhyvxEPP6af0gsuekLZOj1WV3YSxcepH6DtjcMdMcZ2wxt71mPlLIMOIlo7JuA-Kq98o4VD3K0R_gC9QHVx1qpNA-Cgsv8Ldnl_GMxKgYNo1HIb245x5g2Epjg3p-7UKJLL35wZGW-pCR3NwKEXZZT7rDGGpZQ/s5472/7E8A8159edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigrzSHs3FqiKQshFAAqvU2C_FrpU0MNhyvxEPP6af0gsuekLZOj1WV3YSxcepH6DtjcMdMcZ2wxt71mPlLIMOIlo7JuA-Kq98o4VD3K0R_gC9QHVx1qpNA-Cgsv8Ldnl_GMxKgYNo1HIb245x5g2Epjg3p-7UKJLL35wZGW-pCR3NwKEXZZT7rDGGpZQ/w640-h426/7E8A8159edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">© Ryan Chapman</td></tr></tbody></table><p><b>5. The end is an anti-climax</b></p><p>On the final day of the trail itself, as a glorious afternoon turned thundery, I entered the final mile with a hint of a skip in my step.</p><p>When I approached the Austrian border I looked around for something that marked the end of the trail. I wasn’t expecting a welcome party but at least a fucking plaque. There was nothing. Just a couple of border guards glaring at me suspiciously and a few flags blowing enthusiastically in the increasingly stormy breeze.</p><p>I had 6 minutes until the next bus back into Liechtenstein. Just enough time for the anti-climatical feeling to wash away before going to find somewhere to get a celebratory beer or five. Well, actually just the three when I saw the price of them.</p><div><br /></div>Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-15613382773983621022022-04-12T11:36:00.004+01:002022-04-12T12:01:48.634+01:00[Film] Priced out of existence <p style="text-align: justify;">Here’s a short film I made for Kidney Care UK’s 'Priced out of existence' campaign:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" class="BLOG_video_class" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ekhIDaNdYDk" width="480" youtube-src-id="ekhIDaNdYDk"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><p style="text-align: justify;">I visited Phoenix at his home in Coventry and shot this film in his living room, which doubles up as his dialysis treatment room. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Phoenix has kidney disease and is required to perform home dialysis five times a week to stay alive. For each session the dialysis machine runs for nine hours, which has a significant impact on his electricity bills. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">The cost of living crisis is taking its toll on families up and down the country and many people are being forced to choose between heating and eating. But for some, the situation is even worse. With the cost of energy soaring, and having already turned off his heating, Phoenix is left wondering where the extra money is going to come from to keep running his dialysis machine.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">He feels like he, and others like him, are being priced out of existence.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDN8Y1e4d3xYhIUw0Z03B3kz175ObSUjXmM_beS3l1krBHOpqsvK0wsqQAh7JHpiJPOB427r7zgiR_edpCrXUKcx6j3HzdiMUtmjpTQJ0bw_s0cwMWHdE0IFyiP14JGqWstIvAHeU6eqgHh-Jn1tB_ybxJlCJC45LS7ayzoFqAs6QsWAgupzxux_neTQ/s1920/Still001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDN8Y1e4d3xYhIUw0Z03B3kz175ObSUjXmM_beS3l1krBHOpqsvK0wsqQAh7JHpiJPOB427r7zgiR_edpCrXUKcx6j3HzdiMUtmjpTQJ0bw_s0cwMWHdE0IFyiP14JGqWstIvAHeU6eqgHh-Jn1tB_ybxJlCJC45LS7ayzoFqAs6QsWAgupzxux_neTQ/w640-h360/Still001.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><p style="text-align: justify;">On the day of the shoot his wife was at work and his daughter was at school. I arrived to find him in the company of his two small dogs and the apparent leader of the pack, a cat. (All three of them colluded to remain quiet and restful until the very second I'd finished setting up for the interview and pressed record, just for a laugh.)</p><p style="text-align: justify;">My visit was during the first warm spell of the year - that week in early March when everybody including the daffodils were fooled into thinking spring had arrived. But during dialysis Phoenix is never warm. As blood leaves his body to be cleaned it is cooled by the pipes of the machine, which means he is always on the edge of being cold. No matter how many layers he piles on and how many blankets he huddles under. </p><p style="text-align: justify;">Kidney Care UK's 'Priced out of existence' campaign aims to raise money to help plug the financial gap for those performing dialysis at home.</p><p style="text-align: justify;">Read more here: <a href="https://www.kidneycareuk.org/get-support/cost-living-hub/priced-out-of-existence/">https://www.kidneycareuk.org/get-support/cost-living-hub/priced-out-of-existence/</a></p>Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-25112704616374364902021-11-17T14:45:00.016+00:002021-11-17T14:54:09.297+00:00Being a cheese tourist in CyprusI had a week free to disappear somewhere. And while Cyprus was a contender for its shit-hot November weather and lax Covid entry requirements, I chose it primarily for the halloumi.<br /><br />A sign from the halloumi Gods affirmed my choice just prior to the trip as a Tesco order at home arrived with 21 packs of the stuff - 19 more than we thought we’d ordered. It turned out we’d changed our minds on quantity mid-order, but hadn’t deleted the ‘1’ before adding the ‘2’. Hence unintentionally ordering 21 (it was a boozy Sunday afternoon, what can I say).<br /><br />2021 had just happened to be a big year for halloumi with the EU awarding Cyprus and its famous cheese a PDO (Protected Designation of Origin). This basically means halloumi must be made on the island otherwise it can’t be called halloumi. Just like roquefort must come from Roquefort, gouda must come from Gouda, and Diarylea triangles must come from the Dairylea Triangle (like the Bermuda Triangle but cheesier).<br /><br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GYQGvEN4lw4/YZUTBzUQPNI/AAAAAAAAC2o/xvro9Q6LVBoB7L5XdbdKtQW9ru-BNr6TACPcBGAYYCw/w640-h426/7E8A5217edit.jpg" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Cape Greco National Park</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>So, Cyprus.<br /><br />I wanted to experience Cyprus like I imagined Cypriots do: eating so much halloumi it starts oozing out of their ears. (Note to self: that’s a pretty disgusting image, although interestingly it hasn’t put me off in the slightest).<br /><br />I began in Larnaca which can appear tired and tacky if you stick to the sea-front, but literally only one block in-land there’s some really nice places to eat and drink. One day I managed to squeeze in seven different halloumi dishes, washed down with about twice as many Keos. That was quite a day, I can tell you. The seven dishes included classic grilled halloumi, halloumi bread, halloumi and fig salad, chicken breast stuffed with halloumi, halloumi and smoked pork calzone… I could go on.<br /><br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-L2QvYwjr3Ss/YZUTBUf2O9I/AAAAAAAAC2o/PqhJb9Fn9ZwdnX5aLfq4NK7ERTcB1lf1wCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h426/7E8A5166edit%2B2.jpg" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Larnaca</i></div><br />Seven in one day turned out to be a record for the trip, but to be honest I didn’t attempt to break it. Let’s face it, three would have been enough to make my point.<br /><br />After a few days in Larnaca I then headed in-land to the divided capital city of Nicosia. Street maps on the Greek side don’t even name the streets on the Turkish side and roads are barricaded off with oil barrels, barbed wire and armed soldiers.<br /><br />If you stick to the coast and don’t come to Nicosia you’d be forgiven for forgetting that Cyprus is a proper country with such things as traffic jams, an Ikea, and deep-rooted political division.<br /><br />I’d had a confused image of Nicosia in my mind since seeing Arsenal play Omonoia Nicosia at Highbury in 1994 (3-0 with two goals from Ian Wright if you're wondering). I remember thinking ‘right, so it’s not in Greece, but they’re kind of Greek, but also half Turkish?’. It was way too convoluted for my eight year-old brain to process and I hadn’t thought about Nicosia much since.<br /><br />After a halloumi pie for breakfast - which was delicious but left unfinished because it was huge and saltier than a Himalayan salt lamp - I passed border control into the Turkish zone and had an afternoon off halloumi - instead filling my face with baklava. I decided there and then that baklava tourism was my next thing.<br /><br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jAPZkDiJJss/YZUStOyZSaI/AAAAAAAAC2I/xaWPlRJqf0cXFUDjvwF0Yg1pSQU1hz5jQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/7E8A5305editwm.jpg" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Nicosia</i></div><br />After Nicosia I spent a couple of nights in Paphos which I didn’t particularly like but at least I could rack up a few more halloumi dishes. Although you’re more likely to find Cathedral City grated over ham, egg and chips than anything authentic (fucking hell, cheese snob alert - I actually like Cathedral City!).<br /><br />In a week I ate a total of 19 halloumi-based snacks and dishes, 13 of which were unique. I think that's pretty good going. And am I sick of halloumi now? Well, yes actually, a little bit. But do I regret eating all that halloumi? Well, now I mention it, it probably was a bit excessive. <br /><br />‘So what was the best halloumi then?!' I hear you cry through watering mouths. <br /><br />The best snackable halloumi was probably fried halloumi covered in sesame seeds and dipped in honey, served as a starter from a restaurant called Stoano Kato in Larcana.<br /><br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gfoCOwn6KNY/YZUUCe9ohpI/AAAAAAAAC3A/DHdZ7zgYbAwnBFYYylenPBhqeYCXWX0jQCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h490/IMG_2527.jpeg" /></a><br /><br />The most interesting was probably the bacon and egg pancakes dripping in a halloumi sauce from a hipster brunch cafe called Onar, also in Larnana.<br /><br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NPh6AcXu9uc/YZUT_-t4lgI/AAAAAAAAC3M/1sY6PVlj05wVKiQ6pkfIzEkL3FZ0_UpsgCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h480/IMG_2423%2B2.jpeg" /></a><br /><br />And the best overall halloumi experience probably has to be the wrapped gyros stuffed with grilled halloumi and chips with an extra serving of grilled halloumi on the side, from a ‘quick eats’ kind of place called Souflavki. Which was again, in Larnaca (a Larnaca hat-trick).<br /><br /><a href="https://www.blogger.com/#"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1HJP-TSMCcc/YZUUATxs6iI/AAAAAAAAC3Y/c8OM32FuckoFnx0i3mvKFASRYTMq_fbjgCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h480/IMG_2439%2B2.jpeg" /></a><br /><br />I’m saying ‘probably’ a lot above because it was all great. It turns out halloumi is just brilliant in all its forms (with a special shout out to halloumi bread).<br /><br />Anyway, I hope you’ve found this halloumi-nating. A nice little pun there to reward you for getting to the end.Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-84123939680087065882021-01-05T19:30:00.003+00:002021-01-05T19:30:42.776+00:00Happy New Year!<p>I rebranded as an octopus at the end of last year. Happy New Year from Videoctopus! 🐙🎥</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zB9Y9lNRzh0/X_S91KOzofI/AAAAAAAACtE/Q2lT5-DcbX82KdRvIhw1VPUr4T0cSCdkgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/Instagram%2BProfile%2BPicture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-zB9Y9lNRzh0/X_S91KOzofI/AAAAAAAACtE/Q2lT5-DcbX82KdRvIhw1VPUr4T0cSCdkgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Instagram%2BProfile%2BPicture.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div>Like an octopus, Videoctopus has three hearts: producing, shooting and editing. <p></p><p>Also like an octopus, Videoctopus has eight arms. From documentary to branded content. You can read more at <a href="http://www.videoctopus.co.uk">www.videoctopus.co.uk</a>.</p><p>Until we can meet again, stay safe, sane and healthy 😘</p>Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-44178644599136838052020-09-18T15:35:00.002+01:002020-09-18T15:36:28.022+01:00Norfolk seals - in pictures<p>Think of Norfolk and you might think of Sunny Hunny, Cromer crab, or windmills on the Broads. Personally, my mind jumps immediately to seals (although a delicious dressed crab comes a close second).</p><p>Thousands of grey and common seals call the Norfolk coast their home, and they make excellent subjects for some low effort wildlife photography. They can't fly away, they're too lazy to be fussed by your presence and they tend to strike a variety of poses.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nUPpxd4FSaQ/X1izye1Es3I/AAAAAAAACqE/eUqFw0qDL00dDDO8ex7bUgybdCA5H2PCACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/UW5A5188editwmA.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nUPpxd4FSaQ/X1izye1Es3I/AAAAAAAACqE/eUqFw0qDL00dDDO8ex7bUgybdCA5H2PCACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/UW5A5188editwmA.jpg" width="640" /></i></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_rTJAcDEwm0/X1izl9nx05I/AAAAAAAACqM/hAtT84FMpQoFI7YHV558dynM-5UDGFp3wCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/UW5A4762editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_rTJAcDEwm0/X1izl9nx05I/AAAAAAAACqM/hAtT84FMpQoFI7YHV558dynM-5UDGFp3wCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h426/UW5A4762editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p>When they're not fishing for cod they're either sunbathing or settling territorial disputes, but whatever they're doing, they're usually pretty happy to be photographed from a distance.</p><p>If you stay low and move slowly you'll probably be able to get within six or seven meters before any seal will relieve themselves of your company. So you don't need a <i>massive</i> telephoto lens. All of these photos are shot on my 70-200mm.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XHm-LMV7c_Q/X1izj2AchJI/AAAAAAAACqI/77dgg6h37dUzbftSYcHFafSaTxqjDBZTQCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/UW5A4531editwmA.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XHm-LMV7c_Q/X1izj2AchJI/AAAAAAAACqI/77dgg6h37dUzbftSYcHFafSaTxqjDBZTQCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h426/UW5A4531editwmA.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3EtssSFW_Ck/X1izxrIM6qI/AAAAAAAACqU/5UA2F3O4D0g3dKDP1i3Wvse_8JM_gQQcgCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/UW5A5485editwmB.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3EtssSFW_Ck/X1izxrIM6qI/AAAAAAAACqU/5UA2F3O4D0g3dKDP1i3Wvse_8JM_gQQcgCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h426/UW5A5485editwmB.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p><br />There are two key locations to see Norfolk's seals:</p><p><b>Blakeney Point</b></p><p>There's plenty of information online that suggests you can only see the seal colony at Blakeney Point if you go on a boat trip, but I beg to differ. If you park up at Cley Beach you can walk the few miles west along the shingle beach. </p><p>Just keep walking. And just when you're about to give up - after the third or forth time you mistake a distant piece of driftwood for a seal - you'll reach them.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ujW8zIboIYc/X1izYBFwY0I/AAAAAAAACp0/0LP3_iHpzRAxN9HAYmkd2EV-mJpJg2s-ACPcBGAYYCw/s2048/3C9A2121wm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ujW8zIboIYc/X1izYBFwY0I/AAAAAAAACp0/0LP3_iHpzRAxN9HAYmkd2EV-mJpJg2s-ACPcBGAYYCw/w640-h426/3C9A2121wm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NOgwC-x8ATA/X2TBiVn5pCI/AAAAAAAACrU/peeRPem0ZHoFoeYwFNES_zKZbtSvf4T5gCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h426/3C9A2198.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><p><b>Horsey Gap</b></p><p>The colonies at Horsey Gap are much easier to access on foot. The seals here are far more considerate to their human admirers and tend to hang out within ten minutes walk of the car park. </p><p>I came in July when the whole area is free to roam, but the beach is closed for birthing season in the winter and you're asked to stick to the viewing platforms.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1IbetK1axxA/X1izvqDEr1I/AAAAAAAACqU/ZpcHuyXfJ3Iq6JgU_nDlYW840UVFsDiNACPcBGAYYCw/s2048/UW5A4888editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1IbetK1axxA/X1izvqDEr1I/AAAAAAAACqU/ZpcHuyXfJ3Iq6JgU_nDlYW840UVFsDiNACPcBGAYYCw/w640-h426/UW5A4888editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-olYkfZVCC2U/X1izW2z2LKI/AAAAAAAACpw/7Rf3JUj0GlkfWk0JGFC-58ThtMbcsPO4QCPcBGAYYCw/s2048/UW5A4466editWM.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-olYkfZVCC2U/X1izW2z2LKI/AAAAAAAACpw/7Rf3JUj0GlkfWk0JGFC-58ThtMbcsPO4QCPcBGAYYCw/w640-h426/UW5A4466editWM.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>© Ryan Chapman</i></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Happy sealing.</div></div><br /><br />Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-78268056601072750912020-06-30T15:23:00.008+01:002020-06-30T18:34:34.306+01:00Vietnam Part 2: Here today, Saigon tomorrow<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Continued from <a href="https://ryanchapman.blogspot.com/2020/04/vietnam-part-1.html" target="_blank">Part 1: Mopeds and pig heads</a>.<br />
<br />
Call it Western bias but when I first came across the Vietnam War being referred to as the American War it took me a moment to recalibrate. But, I know, obviously they wouldn't call it the Vietnam War in Vietnam. It was a bit like when I first discovered they don't call it the English Channel in France. (I mean, how dare they! It's the <i>English</i> Channel for <i>English</i> fish!)<br /><br />Here though, I'll just call it 'the war'. And the memories of it became ever more tangible as we continued south from Phong Nha through Quang Tri province. Today, this area is mostly typified by lazy water buffalo bathing in muddy rivers, but scratch the surface - even just a little - and you may wish you hadn't.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">The US dropped more explosives during the war than were used by all sides in World War II. Quang Tri province bore the brunt of it and a huge proportion - some estimates say up to 30% - didn't detonate.<br /><br />As a consequence, since the war 'ended' - in inverted commas for good reason - over 100,000 Vietnamese people have been killed or maimed by explosives that didn't get the memo. Efforts to clear the country of unexploded ordinance is still very much a work in progress: a mission around 300 years away from completion, at the current rate. Ah, the legacy of war.<br />
<br />
To avoid US airstrikes entire communities took their lives underground in hastily built tunnel complexes, with hollowed out maternity wards, classrooms and everything else a village needs to function. We crouched our way through one of these subterranean ghost towns, blown away by the sheer desire of the Vietnamese people not to be murdered by imperialist invaders.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xIsTJmZL_6Q/XvoZr1MWY9I/AAAAAAAACjo/04UrsugfhdAo34eD7GIiEU0ksfEbPy28ACK4BGAsYHg/s1350/UW5A1121editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xIsTJmZL_6Q/XvoZr1MWY9I/AAAAAAAACjo/04UrsugfhdAo34eD7GIiEU0ksfEbPy28ACK4BGAsYHg/w400-h500/UW5A1121editwm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><font size="2">Hue © Ryan Chapman</font></i></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Leaving Quang Tri behind we crossed the bridge from what was North Vietnam to what was South Vietnam, stopped for a night in Hue, before hopping back on the Reunification Express for the coast-hugging train to Hoi An. The first part of the trip had been pretty hectic, but in Hoi An our hotel had a pool and we had the best part of a week with very little planned. A cooking class here, a cocktail there. A quick dip in the pool there, a cocktail here.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
It is said that Vietnamese people can be straight-talking and abrupt. Not in a shock-jock, rabble-rousing, Nigel Farage way, but in a sweet, endearing way. I experienced this first hand when I went to do what every male tourist does in Hoi An: have a suit tailored.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aZE5Ny5tDuo/XvoZh_N5N9I/AAAAAAAACjY/mlxvVOljs2M9RKnbJehDE0U-oXyH4liMwCK4BGAsYHg/s5060/UW5A1634editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3373" data-original-width="5060" height="416" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aZE5Ny5tDuo/XvoZh_N5N9I/AAAAAAAACjY/mlxvVOljs2M9RKnbJehDE0U-oXyH4liMwCK4BGAsYHg/w625-h416/UW5A1634editwm.jpg" width="625" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><font size="2">Hoi An © Ryan Chapman</font></i></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">On the first measuring appointment a friendly, well-presented lady took me to one side and unravelled her tape. I clocked the cheeky glint in her eye. "Ah, I see you have no arse" she said, looking me up and down, before wrapping her tape around my waist and commenting on my "little flabby side bits". If it's a sales technique, it worked. And the suit fits like a glove. Even around my little flabby side bits.<br />
<br />
This encounter with the seamstress reminded me that I'd promised myself I'd do some exercise while away. Which was hilarious to me. I'd even gone as far as to pack some running shorts. It's honestly as if pre-holiday me and on-holiday me inhabit entirely different universes. I pondered the absurdity of running in the tropical heat, before ordering another drink.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-34pgTACOd-k/XvoYqybUkGI/AAAAAAAACiM/wlCpPOL7pCoH2kSmq0Onn5_D3v6lYg42wCK4BGAsYHg/s1350/UW5A1548editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-34pgTACOd-k/XvoYqybUkGI/AAAAAAAACiM/wlCpPOL7pCoH2kSmq0Onn5_D3v6lYg42wCK4BGAsYHg/w400-h500/UW5A1548editwm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><font size="2">Hoi An © Ryan Chapman<br /></font></i></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">Hoi An seemed a lot more on the beaten path than we'd expected. Mostly on account of the hoards of cruise shippers coming into town to sit in Western style bars with other cruise shippers. In contrast, the path to our next location - another several hours down the train line - was so <i>un-</i>beaten there literally wasn't one. A short traipse across a sandy beach being the only way to access the only accommodation in the village.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />Nhon Hai is <i>real</i> Vietnam. Unfortunately, in real Vietnam there aren't hotels employing people to clean the beach. So, in reality - although the people are super friendly and the papaya salads are out of this world - real Vietnam is somewhat tainted by rubbish washed up by the South China Sea. To counterbalance this though, the papaya salads really were that good. So good that every time I got a bit depressed about ocean plastic (because, you see, I'm a massive snowflake who cares about things like that), I just ordered another papaya salad and let the spicy, peanutty goodness wash my woes away.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iUhxHeSlkhA/XvoY-C4EYBI/AAAAAAAACig/Z5Pt7fRckUw4wCO88QCJyEJeKm955aHFQCK4BGAsYHg/s3375/UW5A1841editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3375" data-original-width="3375" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iUhxHeSlkhA/XvoY-C4EYBI/AAAAAAAACig/Z5Pt7fRckUw4wCO88QCJyEJeKm955aHFQCK4BGAsYHg/w400-h400/UW5A1841editwm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><font size="2">Nhon Hai © Ryan Chapman<br /></font></i></td></tr></tbody></table></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AhinRZ87Mxc/XvoZHtFSZ9I/AAAAAAAACis/iQVNaJO0pIkRdWWP5LaIgT1weiCi-uLtgCK4BGAsYHg/s3375/UW5A1721wm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3375" data-original-width="3375" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AhinRZ87Mxc/XvoZHtFSZ9I/AAAAAAAACis/iQVNaJO0pIkRdWWP5LaIgT1weiCi-uLtgCK4BGAsYHg/w400-h400/UW5A1721wm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Nhon Hai © Ryan Chapman</span><br style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;" /></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">After a couple of days tip-toeing around a fucking exhibition of plastic packaging it was back on the Reunification Express for the final sixteen hours to Ho Chi Minh City. Or, as I - and most locals, apparently - prefer to call it: Saigon. (I mean no disrespect to Uncle Ho, but naming cities after revolutionaries is just a bit too Commie. Even for me. Besides, the name Saigon evokes exotic images of rickshaws and fiery sunsets. All the name Ho Chi Minh City evokes are images of some old geezer with a beard.)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Saigon is a surprisingly contemporary and cosmopolitan city. Surprising to me, at least, because I was expecting it to be like Hanoi on steroids. But, although they have an identical soundtrack of horns and mopeds, they're very different. For a start, I've never seen so many roof top bars in one place. And I can assure you, I'm not complaining. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YoAz_9sP8DI/XvocnHZCdiI/AAAAAAAACk0/E2nhaGfLklQdSjFzGiZX6Ot0YqSN2KtnwCK4BGAsYHg/s5060/UW5A2530editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3373" data-original-width="5060" height="416" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YoAz_9sP8DI/XvocnHZCdiI/AAAAAAAACk0/E2nhaGfLklQdSjFzGiZX6Ot0YqSN2KtnwCK4BGAsYHg/w625-h416/UW5A2530editwm.jpg" width="625" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Saigon © Ryan Chapman</span><br style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;" /></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">We had four days in Saigon, which were mostly taken up by eating. However, we also found the time to spend an afternoon at the War Remnants Museum (a must do); explore the city's club scene (thus significantly increasing the average age); and even partake in a spot of karaoke, Vietnam's national sport (Yes, there are videos. No, you can't see them).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">No wonder Saigon is home to so many expats, with its plethora of hipster hang-outs and its incredible and diverse food scene. It's a city I would certainly spend a lot more time in, if only RyanAir would find a way to make it a couple of hours away from Stansted.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br />And so, with a global pandemic just getting into the swing of things it was almost time to come home. But not before five more days in full-on holiday mode on the island of Pho Quoc: Vietnam's answer to Ko Samui. Pho Quoc is exploding in popularity, for good reason. And, judging by the sheer number of construction sites, is trying its damnedest to keep up.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tniW5AYJ1tU/XvocbuKuk3I/AAAAAAAACkk/0QtFg2ydmekeJPplluwHecPTGh9OYMH2QCK4BGAsYHg/s3375/UW5A2871editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3375" data-original-width="3375" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tniW5AYJ1tU/XvocbuKuk3I/AAAAAAAACkk/0QtFg2ydmekeJPplluwHecPTGh9OYMH2QCK4BGAsYHg/w400-h400/UW5A2871editwm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Pho Quoc © Ryan Chapman</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: justify;">By the end of the trip coronavirus anxiety had hit fever pitch. We were sat in the back of a taxi and, I swear, I didn't even cough. I merely cleared my throat. But the driver - eye-balling me in the rear view mirror - simultaneously opened all four windows, gave his steering wheel a rub with a wet-wipe, and insisted on driving us to a pharmacy to buy some face masks. I managed to convince him we were leaving Vietnam later that day, but I don't think he believed me.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And then, on our internal flight back to Hanoi, a woman took her seat next to me on the plane wearing a full-body hazmat suit. She had the lot: gloves, goggles, mask. PPE quite literally from head to toe. She took a small bottle of disinfectant from her handbag and sprayed herself like it was perfume. Then she sprayed her tray table, and then proceeded to spray me. It was time to come home.<br /><br />--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------<br /><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Hoi An tips: </b>climb aboard Uncle Dai's boat bar for pre-dinner drinks, dinner and/or post-dinner drinks with friendly cats, dogs and humans (it's not entirely clear who owns who). The Hoianian for something a little less rustic. Kimmy for tailoring. </div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><b>Saigon tips: </b>pay-as-you-go karaoke at iCOOL. Incredible tapas at Octo. Saigon Cocktails or The Gin House for afters.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><b>Pho Quoc tips: </b>we stayed in Ong Lang which seemed the best of all worlds. Eat and be merry at the Bittersweet Bistro. Mango Bay for something special.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-29629707058578801012020-06-12T13:02:00.000+01:002020-06-12T13:16:51.152+01:00[Film] Evicted: The Story of Favela do Metro<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Ten years ago Brazilian authorities began evicting favela residents from their homes in preparation for the 2014 FIFA World Cup. At best, they prioritised the whims of a one-off sporting mega-event over the lives of poor people. At worst, it was social cleansing.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-twYNuymVwkQ/XuNuOT9PrUI/AAAAAAAAChE/O44OEyXaOf0MN56TXO7XMO5UjG2p22GcACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Thumbnail%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-twYNuymVwkQ/XuNuOT9PrUI/AAAAAAAAChE/O44OEyXaOf0MN56TXO7XMO5UjG2p22GcACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Thumbnail%2B2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span id="goog_1080641695"></span><span id="goog_1080641696"></span><br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Entire communities were flattened, often with very little warning, and sometimes even without a clear plan. In one case a row of favela dwellings were torn down so a hedge could be planted alongside a main road, to shield the rest of the favela from the view of passing cars. Just in case visitors mentioned poverty in their postcards home.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
One favela community - a little too close to the party for comfort - was particularly hard hit by this wave of destruction. Almost 700 families living a stone's throw from Rio's iconic Maracanã Stadium felt the full impact of Brazil's shameful forced evictions.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I shot this footage in 2014 in a very noisy (!) corner of Rio de Janeiro, as part of a series of vlogs about the World Cup. Six years after the World Cup kicked off, this is the full story of Favela do Metro:</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Epixg_aHCnc/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Epixg_aHCnc?feature=player_embedded" width="480"></iframe></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-87174551954137508602020-04-29T17:43:00.005+01:002021-11-17T16:31:39.162+00:00Vietnam Part 1: Mopeds and pig heads<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
"Hanoi's like fucking Beirut" warned the classic Brit Abroad we met towards the end of our trip, whose worldly references seemed to be limited to a Middle Eastern civil war that ended 30 years ago. That's assuming he was comparing Hanoi to the once war-torn streets of the Lebanese capital and not emphasising an abundance of hummus. "Oh, we quite liked it actually" we admitted, before conceding that it's exhaustingly chaotic. And, come to think of it, a bit of baba ghanoush wouldn't go amiss.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6_DZ-ZNeack/XqmzgEdbOXI/AAAAAAAACe4/stCUZwnkVNsm2JtY9ukhemH82Zh7KIseACEwYBhgL/s1600/UW5A0278edit.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6_DZ-ZNeack/XqmzgEdbOXI/AAAAAAAACe4/stCUZwnkVNsm2JtY9ukhemH82Zh7KIseACEwYBhgL/s640/UW5A0278edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span><font size="2">Hanoi © Ryan Chapman<br /><br /></font></span></i></td></tr></tbody></table></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-73S8V1h0mRY/Xqcp0I0FeQI/AAAAAAAACeM/JsgxID1_dsUw3oi7WMeNtxku-d4uI-4owCEwYBhgL/s1600/UW5A0167editwm.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-73S8V1h0mRY/Xqcp0I0FeQI/AAAAAAAACeM/JsgxID1_dsUw3oi7WMeNtxku-d4uI-4owCEwYBhgL/s640/UW5A0167editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span><font size="2">Hanoi © Ryan Chapman</font></span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">Hanoi owes its chaos to the sheer volume of motorbikes, mopeds and scooters. And the alarming enthusiasm with which they're ridden. On the morning of Day 1, simply crossing the road is a dauntingly treacherous prospect. By the afternoon of Day 2 you've nailed the technique: stick to a straight line, maintain a consistent pace, and hope for the best. By Day 3 you're playing Spot the New Arrivals as panic-stricken Western faces stare wide-eyed at the constant stream of traffic wondering how on earth they're going to make it to dinner on time. Or indeed, alive.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Even down the narrowest of side streets, lined with market stalls and their bouquets of fresh herbs, mountains of fruit and all the parts of a pig you can think of. Even here, Hanoians on mopeds will come speeding down the alleyway behind you, assuming you'll step aside just in time. The two-wheeler is king and you just have to be okay with that.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rO5aylrP-oA/Xqcp0v_XqUI/AAAAAAAACeY/2lK4bJS_WC0obCA5cEWL2vBwfKu_VmSIgCEwYBhgL/s1600/UW5A0210editwm.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rO5aylrP-oA/Xqcp0v_XqUI/AAAAAAAACeY/2lK4bJS_WC0obCA5cEWL2vBwfKu_VmSIgCEwYBhgL/s640/UW5A0210editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span><font size="2">Hanoi © Ryan Chapman</font></span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">There are, of course, plenty of places to escape the relentless buzz of the city. Such as incense-infused temples with their alters bearing offerings to Buddist deities from bottled water to multi-packs of custard cupcakes; restful gardens alive with birdsong; and cafes where you can sample the Hanoian specialty of egg coffee. Now, cracking an egg into your coffee may not sound appealing, and the idea was born out of desperation during a wartime milk shortage, but it's nicer than it sounds. I promise.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gfum_1Q1cbs/XqcqD1HXJPI/AAAAAAAACes/Hr3UqWUt_DEjgyGc1sxfp0jDfxnYAfXxgCEwYBhgL/s1600/UW5A9503editwm.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Gfum_1Q1cbs/XqcqD1HXJPI/AAAAAAAACes/Hr3UqWUt_DEjgyGc1sxfp0jDfxnYAfXxgCEwYBhgL/s640/UW5A9503editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span><font size="2">Hanoi © Ryan Chapman</font></span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">Hanoi's centre-piece is Hoan Kiem: a tranquil lake in a sea of mayhem. People of all ages gather on its shores to practice Thi Chi or play friendly games of badminton that quickly turn competitive. Another local past-time, enjoyed mostly by pairs of middle-aged men, is đá cầu (also known as jianzi). Essentially it's football with a shuttlecock. I watched for a while, willing a miss-kick to fall my way but they were all too good to lose control (which is probably for the best, to be honest).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1EgxFBguwqA/XqcqDU_eqVI/AAAAAAAACew/lSgVmVbA6KQ1EcFLY7pGzj48MN92XzukACEwYBhgL/s1600/UW5A9550editwm.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1350" data-original-width="1080" height="500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1EgxFBguwqA/XqcqDU_eqVI/AAAAAAAACew/lSgVmVbA6KQ1EcFLY7pGzj48MN92XzukACEwYBhgL/w400-h500/UW5A9550editwm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span><font size="2">Hanoi © Ryan Chapman</font></span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">
It had been over a decade since I'd done any significant traveling in this corner of the world, so I was more than ready for the unique assault of the senses that only South East Asia can provide. And Hanoi, with its myriad of frantic sights and pungent smells, satisfied the craving. But after a long weekend in the capital it was time to hit the tracks and explore more of Vietnam.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The Reunification Express railway links Hanoi in the north to Ho Chi Minh City a thousand miles to the south. The railway was mostly destroyed during the American War but rebuilt following Vietnam's reunification in 1975. Hence the name. The full journey takes around thirty-four hours, but broken up into five or six legs is perfectly manageable. Especially if you book sleeper cabins for the overnight sections. And stock up on the requisite snacks, obviously.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">Our first leg from Hanoi to Ninh Binh was the shortest of all with barely enough time for a quick nap and a packet of crisps. The city of Ninh Binh is nothing special, but the surrounding countryside is spectacularly dotted with dramatic karst rock formations towering over lush rice fields and winding waterways. A stunning landscape to explore by boat, bike and boot.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VLVgVfWJFi8/Xqcp8A8EaOI/AAAAAAAACeY/3peXS1vISbww60VrMaHmoW1CG81NFxNPQCEwYBhgL/s1600/UW5A0839editwm.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VLVgVfWJFi8/Xqcp8A8EaOI/AAAAAAAACeY/3peXS1vISbww60VrMaHmoW1CG81NFxNPQCEwYBhgL/s640/UW5A0839editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span><font size="2">Ninh Binh © Ryan Chapman</font></span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">It's here in the rural backwaters that we first experienced the general friendliness of the Vietnamese people. That's not to say they were particularly rude in Hanoi, but it's hard to be polite when you're constantly chasing people down on motorbikes. Children in the countryside around Ninh Binh would hurry out of their houses to shout 'hello' as we passed. And the braver kids with slightly more English would ask for our names, before giggling at the response and hiding behind a tree.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In fact, there seemed to be kids everywhere. Even our homestay was run by children. When we couldn't get the shower to work the only person around to ask was a girl of about thirteen. And then her younger sister served us fresh mango for breakfast that she'd grown in the garden. It was then I realised that this abundance of youth was no doubt linked to the coronavirus-related school closures. All the kids in the village were probably bored out of their minds and just saying hello to Westerners for something to do. But at least they did it with a smile.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sONS2_CTXBs/Xqcp2sFEpoI/AAAAAAAACeg/ltSoajvd_NQYWCq_ztZesFcrENjHrb9IgCEwYBhgL/s1600/UW5A0696editwm.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sONS2_CTXBs/Xqcp2sFEpoI/AAAAAAAACeg/ltSoajvd_NQYWCq_ztZesFcrENjHrb9IgCEwYBhgL/s640/UW5A0696editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><font size="2"><span>Ninh Binh </span><span><span>© Ryan Chapman</span></span></font></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">A further eight or so hours south on the Reunification Express - the perfect amount of time for a good sleep, we had naively calculated - is Phong Nha National Park. The area is best known for caves (including the biggest in the world, no less) but as impressive as they are, let's be honest, when you've seen one cave that's kind of enough. Luckily, there's plenty more to do that doesn't involve trying to recall your Year 8 geography class that covered stalagmites and stalactites during which you were distracted by scrawling flirtatious graffiti in the exercise books of mostly disinterested girls sat next to you.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U911m7DUeXs/Xqcp6M90qeI/AAAAAAAACec/eu9wsoV9gF4XATNT_ltM95ue08xdTCg2QCEwYBhgL/s1600/UW5A0983editwm.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-U911m7DUeXs/Xqcp6M90qeI/AAAAAAAACec/eu9wsoV9gF4XATNT_ltM95ue08xdTCg2QCEwYBhgL/s400/UW5A0983editwm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span><font size="2">Phong Nha © Ryan Chapman</font></span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">
Locals have got creative with their offerings to tourists in these parts. Whether you want to eat Chicken Bombs in a bomb-themed bar beside a crater formed during an American airstrike, have a flock of ducks peck seeds from in-between your toes, or ride a massive water buffalo named Donald Trump: Phong Nha has you covered.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And from there, we headed to the ancient capital of Hue. But for that you'll have to wait for Part 2...<br /><br />--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Hanoi tips:</b> drink egg coffee at Dinh Cafe before and/or after a walk around the lake. Eat bánh mì at Bánh Mì 25 (bánh mì is essentially a savoury filled baguette, but Vietnamese bread is lighter with a satisfyingly crackly crust). Drink excellent cocktails at The Alchemist.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3YMQyyo_9pA/XqcqEmvHtII/AAAAAAAACew/Dxd2GQ0cgagqH6sCnCm_STJr89l2mrlYQCEwYBhgL/s1600/UW5A9944edit-3wm.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3YMQyyo_9pA/XqcqEmvHtII/AAAAAAAACew/Dxd2GQ0cgagqH6sCnCm_STJr89l2mrlYQCEwYBhgL/s400/UW5A9944edit-3wm.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span><font size="2">Hanoi © Ryan Chapman</font></span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;"><b><br /></b></div><div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Ninh Binh tips:</b> stay at Hang Mua Nature Homestay (run by a very welcoming family with two rooms overlooking a tropical fruit garden). Do a boat trip from Trang An and explore the Tam Coc area by bike (we hired bikes from Tam Coc Happy Home). Download the Grab app for taxis to cover the longer distances.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ul0byG-9ikQ/Xqcp69eXDyI/AAAAAAAACec/v3rE-pOB36ECxU-c9DX8WG6CgEhuuJM3QCEwYBhgL/s1600/UW5A0820editwm.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ul0byG-9ikQ/Xqcp69eXDyI/AAAAAAAACec/v3rE-pOB36ECxU-c9DX8WG6CgEhuuJM3QCEwYBhgL/s640/UW5A0820editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><font size="2">Ninh Binh <span><span>© Ryan Chapman</span></span></font></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Phong Nha tips:</b> cycle out to The Pub with Cold Beer and reward your efforts with their flagship product (beware of the copycat establishment The Knockoff Pub With Cold Beer just around the corner. According to reviews their beer isn't even cold). On the way back swing by the aforementioned Bomb Crater Bar for further refreshment.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-71362003139664670322020-01-17T16:08:00.000+00:002020-05-12T00:11:36.958+01:00Making Ice Cream [music video]<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Towards the end of last summer I was part of a small camera crew to squeeze into an even smaller wooden cabin for a shoot on a slice of Hertfordshire farmland. We were there to make the music video for Ice Cream, a single from Irish singer-songwriter Tod Doyle (arguably the best thing to come out of Ireland since Father Ted).<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r4xCdGShu1c/XiCLXzGw1UI/AAAAAAAACZo/wM9caZNkbIce6j8hL8dfwHOfWXu6znmFwCEwYBhgL/s1600/_58A9206.jpeg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-r4xCdGShu1c/XiCLXzGw1UI/AAAAAAAACZo/wM9caZNkbIce6j8hL8dfwHOfWXu6znmFwCEwYBhgL/s400/_58A9206.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="text-align: start;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Tod on set.</span></i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AvKcPljwXck/XiCSYV2TKsI/AAAAAAAACaI/AAiQGGf2vnINGcTUmjQ_FHddYNySi15wQCEwYBhgL/s1600/_58A9195edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AvKcPljwXck/XiCSYV2TKsI/AAAAAAAACaI/AAiQGGf2vnINGcTUmjQ_FHddYNySi15wQCEwYBhgL/s400/_58A9195edit.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Me on set.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
We shot the video over two days, fuelled by copious amounts of pastries and flapjacks like all good shoots are. However, considering the name of the song there was a disappointing lack of ice cream due to the freezer's close proximity to the cabin's log burner. Melted Cornetto anyone?</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6MTyQzo3X-0/XiYYIPQ5PnI/AAAAAAAACaQ/dfOXzRzlLTgVWM4XAGdvakzZI5pAM4t0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/C705409E-C081-4419-8ECF-E0702969BF7A.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6MTyQzo3X-0/XiYYIPQ5PnI/AAAAAAAACaQ/dfOXzRzlLTgVWM4XAGdvakzZI5pAM4t0wCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/C705409E-C081-4419-8ECF-E0702969BF7A.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Camera porn.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Tod and I had first met in Budapest more moons ago than either of us could reliably remember and we had similarly hazy memories of loose backpacker shenanigans and raucous guitar-led singalongs. He had emerged from the chaos with his Irish folk songs which became anthems of a good few Hungarian summers.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-weight: 400; letter-spacing: normal; orphans: 2; text-align: justify; text-decoration-color: initial; text-decoration-style: initial; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: 2; word-spacing: 0px;">
</div>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-78jNqrJXask/XiCRQ9lX7uI/AAAAAAAACZ4/NdBtCPrwZzY7gSdpzyaDMN6ZhLHEtc6ygCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/272654_10151030414640849_1987075666_o.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-78jNqrJXask/XiCRQ9lX7uI/AAAAAAAACZ4/NdBtCPrwZzY7gSdpzyaDMN6ZhLHEtc6ygCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/272654_10151030414640849_1987075666_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Tod back in the day (Budapest, 2012)</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
I've since edited the video and it's now live for all to see:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/UskP0NMlLQ4/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="342" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/UskP0NMlLQ4?feature=player_embedded" width="608"></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Tod has more new music coming soon so look out for it on your favourite music streaming service (and by that I mean Spotify, obviously). I've been privy to a couple of tracks in the pipeline and I can assure you they're worth the wait.</div>
</div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-79117077494811899532019-11-15T16:57:00.000+00:002019-11-15T16:57:18.984+00:00Noodle in a Haystack<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I’ve been asked for Japanese restaurant tips a few times recently. There's so much variety in Japan you could say finding the right restaurant is like trying to find a noodle in a... never mind, here's the list.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><u>TOKYO</u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d0c60rH96mY/Xc6-NcP9nGI/AAAAAAAACXU/TlkJPS-f8rovAd_AQKljTVpOHopgSFbKgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_1143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1545" data-original-width="1600" height="309" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-d0c60rH96mY/Xc6-NcP9nGI/AAAAAAAACXU/TlkJPS-f8rovAd_AQKljTVpOHopgSFbKgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_1143.JPG" width="320" /></a><b>Nakiryu - 創作麺工房 鳴龍 (for Michelin Star Ramen)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There are three times as many Ramen houses in Tokyo as there are pubs in London, so picking one is basically impossible. Luckily, the Michelin Man devised a restaurant rating system and has awarded his coveted star to only a select couple. One of them is Nakiryu. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Nakiryu only holds a handful of people and doesn’t take reservations, so queuing is inevitable. We arrived well before opening and still queued for over an hour on the street. It’s about 25% more expensive than the average Ramen house but the slurp-tastic noodles and broth are well worth the price (and the wait).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /><b>Tsukiji Market - 築地市場 (for sea food)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There’s a bit of confusion because the fish market famous for its wholesale auctions has moved somewhere else. But you’re probably not hungry enough for 100 kilos of tuna anyway. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The open-air market is still there and is a great place to wander around, eat sushi and get freaked out by weird-looking things on sticks (this is a common occurrence in Japan actually - they love weird things on sticks).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DwKYJEAmJMU/W_58hKyOGUI/AAAAAAAACIc/7ZxzbHMaUg8l87FZIfwMIaUkvIyjQgTtgCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/DAY01-25-UW5A2143editwm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DwKYJEAmJMU/W_58hKyOGUI/AAAAAAAACIc/7ZxzbHMaUg8l87FZIfwMIaUkvIyjQgTtgCPcBGAYYCw/s320/DAY01-25-UW5A2143editwm.jpg" width="320" /></a><b>Omoide Yokocho - 思い出横丁 (for more weird things on sticks) </b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This narrow aroma-filled alleyway is the epicentre of eating weird things on sticks. If you’ve ever wanted to try pig testicals, chicken innards or pickled wasp then this is the spot.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><u>KYOTO</u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Nikomiya Rokken - にこみ屋六軒 (for Japanese tapas)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All of our absolute favourite restaurants in Japan were izakayas. These are basically Japanese pubs that serve tapas. Some just offer drinks and snacks, but others concentrate more on the food, and some of those ones are incredible.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Nikomiya Rokken was our favourite in Kyoto. It’s slightly off the beaten track, but well worth the detour. Look out for the white lantern and good luck trying to pick a sensible amount of things to order.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Kaiseki (for tradition, innit)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A47F8oIyz0I/W_58vaV3axI/AAAAAAAACIw/L18_hTEuB0YWnzS8XS8UoVe9o3yU6l1PwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/DAY14-07-UW5A5044edit-5wm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="212" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A47F8oIyz0I/W_58vaV3axI/AAAAAAAACIw/L18_hTEuB0YWnzS8XS8UoVe9o3yU6l1PwCPcBGAYYCw/s320/DAY14-07-UW5A5044edit-5wm.jpg" width="320" /></a>Kyoto is the place to experience kaiseki: a multi-course set menu (up to 15 courses!) served by impeccably presented kimono-clad waitresses in traditional Japanese surroundings. There are several kaiseki places and they’re all eye-wateringly expensive, but some offer cheaper afternoon sittings. I can’t whole-heartedly recommend the one we went to (Gion-Nanba) but that might be because I’m still scarred by the sixth course (turns out I’m not a massive fan of leaves dripping in cod semen).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><u>HIROSHIMA</u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Onegiya Fukuromachi - おねぎや 袋町店 (for Japanese tapas)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
You have to duck through a tiny doorway and then find a cubbyhole for your shoes, but once you’re over the excruciating cultural awkwardness you’re in for a real treat. Especially if you like leeks, because this izakaya specialises in them.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CvIv4dyiQLw/Xc69APtKiZI/AAAAAAAACXA/UzoIiLAbRIAKIyGOFu3RAW_uBEe2tIDWQCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1550.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CvIv4dyiQLw/Xc69APtKiZI/AAAAAAAACXA/UzoIiLAbRIAKIyGOFu3RAW_uBEe2tIDWQCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_1550.JPG" width="320" /></a><b>Akamaru - 大手町酒場赤まる (for drinks)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This izakaya is more raucous dive bar than tapas restaurant, but they do serve food if you want a snack. Go for a few pre-dinner drinks, soak up the atmosphere and then go back again later for a night cap or three.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In this and all izakayas across Japan make sure you tuck into the bowls of salty edamame beans. They're great for chopstick practice too.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><u><br /></u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><u>OTHER</u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>High Spirits, Fujikawaguchiko-machi </b><b>(for Japanese tapas)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If you happen to be in this part of Japan then this izakaya is well worth a visit. It's the definition of a fusion restaurant. Try and reserve a table though because it gets busy. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And I’ve saved the best until last… <b>Kobe beef!</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Holy cow. A medium-rare Kobe beef steak washed down with a glass of red is utterly life-changing. You don’t<i> have </i>to go to Kobe for legit Kobe beef, but why not? If you have a rail pass it’s pretty easy to get to.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mXW1NogTya0/Xc68_OQ5__I/AAAAAAAACW4/JpPMFSLCZXA7HsDnICPMhQ8uJdXYCiHhwCEwYBhgL/s1600/IMG_1497.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="1600" height="207" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mXW1NogTya0/Xc68_OQ5__I/AAAAAAAACW4/JpPMFSLCZXA7HsDnICPMhQ8uJdXYCiHhwCEwYBhgL/s320/IMG_1497.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There’s a strict Kobe beef grading system from C1 to A5. Make sure you choose a place that does A5 (if budget allows). </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After a lot of research we went to a steak house called Sai-Dining, which was excellent (although they’re probably all excellent in Kobe). We couldn’t quite bring ourselves to drop over £100 each on an A5 fillet, but were more than delighted with our A5 sirloin at almost half the price.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Enjoy!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-48217259801252966932019-04-24T12:34:00.001+01:002019-04-24T22:17:53.498+01:00The Battle of Waterloo Bridge - in pictures<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tOXWkglfLzk/XL9AhZqBTbI/AAAAAAAACOw/b41u1TZI7qk_grCUfyCYxwhS9-IYH24IQCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7235edit.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tOXWkglfLzk/XL9AhZqBTbI/AAAAAAAACOw/b41u1TZI7qk_grCUfyCYxwhS9-IYH24IQCPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7235edit.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It was Day 7 of Extinction Rebellion’s occupation of Waterloo Bridge - one of several London sites targeted by the climate change protest group. The sun was shining, the atmosphere was radiant, but the authorities’ patience was wearing thin.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SWaHWJh0DAc/XL9Am4p7_fI/AAAAAAAACOw/N12WNPPeR74YFatHMlX4KRM5uZv5b5BigCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7340edit.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SWaHWJh0DAc/XL9Am4p7_fI/AAAAAAAACOw/N12WNPPeR74YFatHMlX4KRM5uZv5b5BigCPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7340edit.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
While the media can’t settle on whether to deride XR protesters as soap-dodging hippies or middle class do-gooders, the fact is they include both and everything in-between. They are teachers and children; nurses and lawyers. A diverse bunch. United by desperation and motivated by the undeniable urgent need for action.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-el6aoXyPAzI/XL9Alad65JI/AAAAAAAACO0/bUk4njbNRjwTywAXpU5FDZxbOhmrH3VhwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7279edit.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-el6aoXyPAzI/XL9Alad65JI/AAAAAAAACO0/bUk4njbNRjwTywAXpU5FDZxbOhmrH3VhwCPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7279edit.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Somewhat ironically it was the hottest Easter on record. TV weathermen could barely contain their excitement as they relayed news of soaring Bank Holiday temperatures. And what kind of twisted psychopath doesn’t love a long weekend in the sun? For the literal future of life on earth however, yet another temperature record being broken isn’t exactly news worth celebrating.</div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BRICSIyJEro/XL9A0wTJURI/AAAAAAAACO0/imPO1ppW7QYouqLITQsAhTU8vZQYqukHwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7528edit.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BRICSIyJEro/XL9A0wTJURI/AAAAAAAACO0/imPO1ppW7QYouqLITQsAhTU8vZQYqukHwCPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7528edit.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Several hundred people were congregated at the Waterloo-end of the bridge. Slogans were written on the asphalt with multi-coloured chalk and a mini seminar was underway, advising the gathered crowd on what to do in the event of arrest.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uCbMPE0QfR0/XL9AxLuuasI/AAAAAAAACOs/H69YMU5nOXg3QsmRrOV2dcuAYDIaN1wDgCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7491edit.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uCbMPE0QfR0/XL9AxLuuasI/AAAAAAAACOs/H69YMU5nOXg3QsmRrOV2dcuAYDIaN1wDgCPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7491edit.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The sounds of acoustic guitars and bongos drifted across the bridge, as various protesters staged singalongs and trays of homemade chocolate cake were passed around and greeted with the kind of smiles only homemade chocolate cake can muster. </div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mt68hY-1ELQ/XL9AkHa1YYI/AAAAAAAACO0/8O4IjuzzYBYNreRrC7gcG6len8GhtYcOgCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7260edit-2.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Mt68hY-1ELQ/XL9AkHa1YYI/AAAAAAAACO0/8O4IjuzzYBYNreRrC7gcG6len8GhtYcOgCPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7260edit-2.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Arrests were made once every ten or so minutes. There was no aggressive resistance but each protester went floppy like toddlers refusing to be carried, requiring a team of officers to take them away. Each arrest was met with warm applause for the dedication of the individual, and songs of support to the police. <i>“We love you, we’re doing it for your children, police”.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z4m1TXxaI44/XL9AhA79vNI/AAAAAAAACOQ/57CtF-PawDIG9gI90ItUtuw5KOHnfNh3ACPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7257edit.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z4m1TXxaI44/XL9AhA79vNI/AAAAAAAACOQ/57CtF-PawDIG9gI90ItUtuw5KOHnfNh3ACPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7257edit.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Here is Waterloo Bridge's very own recycling centre. <i>“But I thought Extinction Rebellion left places in a mess”</i> I hear you grumble. Well, as they say, a lie gets half-way around the world before the truth has even brushed its teeth, or something. And guess what: that photo circulating online of Hyde Park strewn with litter was actually taken after a completely unrelated event and has nothing to do with climate change protesters. Fake news! Big shock!</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CzK8x5oqvU4/XL9AtjOQzrI/AAAAAAAACOw/k2d1iOrGlCoXulSKRINeKyx6ftRYU3gUwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7452edit.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CzK8x5oqvU4/XL9AtjOQzrI/AAAAAAAACOw/k2d1iOrGlCoXulSKRINeKyx6ftRYU3gUwCPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7452edit.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In a somewhat surreal turn of events, Chris Packham - of <i>The Really Wild Show</i> fame - was met by cheers as he clambered on top of a bus shelter to give a speech of gratitude. My 8 year old self would be very disappointed to hear that Michaela Strachan was nowhere to be seen.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6469L3IrFsM/XL9AvNShzbI/AAAAAAAACOs/3blTiIAFMjgjU5WjIsWkxplZTVQEIyrGgCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7466edit.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6469L3IrFsM/XL9AvNShzbI/AAAAAAAACOs/3blTiIAFMjgjU5WjIsWkxplZTVQEIyrGgCPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7466edit.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Chris Packham’s injection of renewed positivity signalled the start of the police’s fight-back. In their first move to clear the bridge they began the task of removing the jumbled array of pop-up tents and pot plants.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWNnCVBfVFo/XL9A2ThT2JI/AAAAAAAACO8/3YbOfpp6JTwsz6UyG2hU0ybzR0h-4HjcACPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7541edit.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWNnCVBfVFo/XL9A2ThT2JI/AAAAAAAACO8/3YbOfpp6JTwsz6UyG2hU0ybzR0h-4HjcACPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7541edit.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The police dismantled gazebos to complaints from those sheltering beneath that they would be exposed to direct sunlight. “You shouldn’t have glued yourself to the bloody bridge then” one policewoman snapped back, in the first hint of animosity I’d witnessed from either side all afternoon.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s4IACFgoxQ4/XL9Ax44UkZI/AAAAAAAACOw/GhO9ytiQNgsFQj6jW-hYavFjxp2JyIHgQCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7498edit.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s4IACFgoxQ4/XL9Ax44UkZI/AAAAAAAACOw/GhO9ytiQNgsFQj6jW-hYavFjxp2JyIHgQCPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7498edit.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As more police moved in and it became clear that XR’s week-long occupation of Waterloo Bridge was coming to an end, some protesters swapped placards for brooms to begin the clear-up.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gKkVAmhimy8/XL9AzMLSrKI/AAAAAAAACO0/fzMDHNR7uMouKuCkqdU-HcsDPvRjEbkBgCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/UW5A7515edit.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gKkVAmhimy8/XL9AzMLSrKI/AAAAAAAACO0/fzMDHNR7uMouKuCkqdU-HcsDPvRjEbkBgCPcBGAYYCw/s640/UW5A7515edit.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>© Ryan Chapman</i></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Whatever Extinction Rebellion’s next move, there are some certainties. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The lazy, disingenuous and cynical attacks will continue from people with their heads in the sand. You know, the ones that try and claim you can’t possibly care about the future of humankind <i>and</i> go on an airplane.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The other certainty is that the problem will continue getting worse if nothing is done. And while certain lifestyle changes are important, the radical change has to come from the top. And fast.</div>
<div>
<style type="text/css">
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000}
span.s1 {font-kerning: none}
</style></div>
<style type="text/css">
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000}
p.p2 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000; min-height: 12.0px}
span.s1 {font-kerning: none}
</style><style type="text/css">
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000}
span.s1 {font-kerning: none}
</style><style type="text/css">
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000}
span.s1 {font-kerning: none}
</style><style type="text/css">
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000}
span.s1 {font-kerning: none}
</style><style type="text/css">
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000}
span.s1 {font-kerning: none}
</style><style type="text/css">
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 11.0px 'Helvetica Neue'; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000}
span.s1 {font-kerning: none}
</style></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-87320034295572518032019-03-19T19:39:00.001+00:002019-03-19T19:43:03.470+00:00The 12 ironies of Brexit<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When Alanis Morissette wrote her song about irony she clearly didn’t have much to draw on. If only she’d waited a couple of decades for the gluttony of ironies that have accompanied the Brexit debacle (Some are even more despairing than rain on your wedding day).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JzJniON1vRw/XJFE5jel87I/AAAAAAAACLo/prLHKTEAxN4vpC3udoiti_oTR7uME7BoACEwYBhgL/s1600/26809-5c6ojg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="227" data-original-width="460" height="314" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JzJniON1vRw/XJFE5jel87I/AAAAAAAACLo/prLHKTEAxN4vpC3udoiti_oTR7uME7BoACEwYBhgL/s640/26809-5c6ojg.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b><br /></b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b><br /></b></b></div>
<b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b></b><br />
<div style="display: inline !important;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 1 </b></b></div>
<b>
</b></div>
</b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The <i>very same people</i> who recoil at the idea of Europeans meddling in our affairs are calling on Italy and Poland to veto any attempt UK Parliament makes to delay Brexit. You either want us in control of our own destiny, or you don't.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 2 </b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Londoners, who wanted it the least, would likely suffer the least. Northerners, who wanted it the most, would likely suffer the most. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 3 </b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Slogans don’t come much more meaningless than ‘Brexit means Brexit’. It’s still in common use, even though Gove and Johnson - the two key figureheads of the official leave campaign - don’t even agree on what Brexit means, let alone voters.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
What do you want for breakfast? <i>Breakfast! </i>What kind of breakfast though? <i>Breakfast means breakfast!</i> </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Okaaaaay, get this guy some plastic cutlery and a bib.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 4 </b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Prominent Leave campaigner and British inventor James Dyson has moved his headquarters to Singapore. Curiously, Singapore had just signed a free trade agreement with the EU, affording Dyson all the benefits he encouraged the British electorate to ditch. What a snake. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I have no doubt that Tim Martin would follow suit and take Wetherspoons to Asia, if only there was a market for pubs that smell of sick. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 5 </b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A massive part of the Brexit campaign was about tightening up our borders, but the whole thing relies on keeping the Irish border soft. ‘We want to control our borders - but not <i>that </i>one!’ </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 6 </b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The same fervent ‘Rule, Britania!’ flavour of nationalism that fuelled the Brexit campaign has, in turn, increased the chances of the United Kingdom breaking up. Well done, ‘patriots’.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 7 </b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Brexiteers claimed that we must leave the EU because our parliament is no longer sovereign. Today, they bemoan Parliament as it continues to exercise the sovereignty it had all along.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 8</b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The infamous blue passport - one of the only tangible 'benefits' of Brexit - will be... wait for it... made in France. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 9 </b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The referendum was called by David Cameron with the primary purpose of uniting the Conservative Party. How’s that gone for you, Dave? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 10</b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Immigrants pay more into the system than they take out. Ergo, they’re literally paying the pensions of the xenophobic retirees who voted Leave hoping to kick them out. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 11 </b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And if we can’t attract as many EU immigrants we’ll have to find people from further afield to support our ageing population. In fact, to replace all the doctors lost since the referendum we may have to relax visa restrictions. How’s that for taking back control? </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><b>Brexit Irony # 12 </b></b></div>
<b>
</b>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And finally, to bring us bang up-to-date, Theresa May now wants to bring the her deal back to Parliament for a <i>third</i> meaningful vote. She’s hoping enough MPs will have changed their mind, whilst simultaneously ruling out the option of checking to see if the public have changed theirs...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<style type="text/css">
p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Times; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000}
p.p2 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; line-height: 14.0px; font: 12.0px Times; color: #000000; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000; min-height: 14.0px}
span.s1 {font-kerning: none}
</style></div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-69804274742079086302018-12-19T14:56:00.000+00:002018-12-19T14:56:19.147+00:00The Specials<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Throughout the latter half of this year I spent an unexpected amount of time in police cars. But far from being taken into custody, I was shooting a series of films for Cambridgeshire Police. All part of a recruitment drive to attract more Special Constables into the force.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The shoots required several trips across the Fens in all directions and in all weathers. From dog day care to martial arts, I spent a couple of days with each of four Special Constables from across Cambridgeshire: Eloise, Phil, Sara and Stephen. Check out the videos here:</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Eloise:</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Z9xcDri1Fqk/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Z9xcDri1Fqk?feature=player_embedded" width="480"></iframe></div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Phil:</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/obk7Vg-Pf5w/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/obk7Vg-Pf5w?feature=player_embedded" width="480"></iframe></div>
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Sara:</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/3b-xaf2TFqU/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3b-xaf2TFqU?feature=player_embedded" width="480"></iframe></div>
<b><br /></b>
<b>Stephen:</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/fd3BcoM8xUw/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/fd3BcoM8xUw?feature=player_embedded" width="480"></iframe></div>
<b><br /></b></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-86590522482854969502018-11-30T10:26:00.000+00:002018-11-30T12:45:52.298+00:00Japan: a country of contradictions<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Japan is a place where robots brush shoulders with geishas, ancient Shinto shrines stand in the shadows of skyscrapers and quaint tea ceremonies follow neon-lit shopping sprees. It's chaotic but rigorously ordered. Hyper-modern but strictly traditional.<br />
<br />
It's also a land of perfectionists, with unrivalled attention to detail. From squeaky clean streets to heated toilet seats and from trains running on time to a near absence of crime. <i>Kaizen</i> is the relentless pursuit of improvement, and it influences every aspect of Japanese life from factory assembly lines to sushi chefs.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There are a thousand reasons to visit Japan. The temples, the mountains, the food. The people, the hot springs, the history. You'll arrive eager and curious, and leave even more curious still.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vEMNdwCzqek/W_58okBB_QI/AAAAAAAACIc/SuOYJsmAbp0ANkAMdvODyf7l0cTnxJnbQCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/DAY08-01-UW5A3943editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vEMNdwCzqek/W_58okBB_QI/AAAAAAAACIc/SuOYJsmAbp0ANkAMdvODyf7l0cTnxJnbQCPcBGAYYCw/s640/DAY08-01-UW5A3943editwm.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The snow-capped peak of Mount Fuji making a brief appearance through the clouds.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6RyVJN87cPE/W_58kP0IICI/AAAAAAAACI0/cfKNCvjFMLwiOw6j0HY8LSipmNCZ1hRvwCPcBGAYYCw/s640/DAY04-28-UW5A3217editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Incense burning at a temple in Nikko.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QErW4NSgRJo/W_58qUP8k-I/AAAAAAAACI0/id8JVbuHpTERERHVVF5e0MscSC9Yr2HfQCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/DAY11-04-UW5A4270editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-QErW4NSgRJo/W_58qUP8k-I/AAAAAAAACI0/id8JVbuHpTERERHVVF5e0MscSC9Yr2HfQCPcBGAYYCw/s640/DAY11-04-UW5A4270editwm.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><i>The bamboo groves of Kyoto.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A47F8oIyz0I/W_58vaV3axI/AAAAAAAACIw/L18_hTEuB0YWnzS8XS8UoVe9o3yU6l1PwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/DAY14-07-UW5A5044edit-5wm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-A47F8oIyz0I/W_58vaV3axI/AAAAAAAACIw/L18_hTEuB0YWnzS8XS8UoVe9o3yU6l1PwCPcBGAYYCw/s640/DAY14-07-UW5A5044edit-5wm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Geisha culture is still mainstream in Kyoto.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
To be honest, when choosing a travel destination the colour of its foliage is not usually on my list of priorities. However, having now witnessed a Japanese autumn in all its fiery glory I can see what the fuss is about.<br />
<br />
Catching 'peak colour' in every location in a three week trip is logistically impossible. But it didn't stop us trying. Our route through Japan was designed to follow the gradual creep of autumn, maximising our exposure to the brilliant reds and oranges. This essentially meant we traveled from north to south, and generally visited high-altitude areas first. More or less.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-90rBW8r3CJI/W_58labKSpI/AAAAAAAACIw/Pl-OrD3ELvMv_e85FBPvX7B1wvSrf7NMwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/DAY05-29-UW5A3265editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-90rBW8r3CJI/W_58labKSpI/AAAAAAAACIw/Pl-OrD3ELvMv_e85FBPvX7B1wvSrf7NMwCPcBGAYYCw/s640/DAY05-29-UW5A3265editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><i>Autumn colours around a pond in Nikko.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MqxFYE_uAOw/W_58k2VUTAI/AAAAAAAACIs/Xmvwpb0hJxM2jotesN8fYL5WK4lmiB6LQCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/DAY05-29-UW5A3248editwm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MqxFYE_uAOw/W_58k2VUTAI/AAAAAAAACIs/Xmvwpb0hJxM2jotesN8fYL5WK4lmiB6LQCPcBGAYYCw/s640/DAY05-29-UW5A3248editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Autumn colours in a Japanese garden in Nikko.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jdcJO4-deAw/W_58nQKkruI/AAAAAAAACIU/La5kAa8zVPU5h6Z-_QBg7hnn1rWdN5fDACPcBGAYYCw/s1600/DAY06-30-UW5A3613editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jdcJO4-deAw/W_58nQKkruI/AAAAAAAACIU/La5kAa8zVPU5h6Z-_QBg7hnn1rWdN5fDACPcBGAYYCw/s640/DAY06-30-UW5A3613editwm.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Autumn colours around Lake Chuzenji.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="text-align: justify;">Before I meander off in all directions, and in a genuine attempt at being helpful, here are five practical tips for a trip to Japan:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<i>1) Invest in a Japan Rail Pass and use the HyperDia app to plan journeys.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>2) Get a Japanese sim card so you can use the internet for maps and translations on the go.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>3) If you're going in autumn use Japan Guide's online autumn colour reports to plan your itinerary.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>4) </i><i>Don't assume you can use your card everywhere. Surprisingly, lots of places are cash-only.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>5) </i><i>Practice with chopsticks before you go.</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Most important though is to be open-minded and embrace the weirdness. You'll find cultural quirks around every corner that will fascinate, bewilder and amuse. Often all at once. And nowhere is that more true than the food.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>The food</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Choosing something to eat is a daunting prospect, and the choice of vocabulary doesn't help. Thanks to overly literal translations the words 'guts' and 'innards' are scattered liberally across most menus. Squid guts and soy beans, anyone? How about some skewered chicken innards?<br />
<br />
But trust me. If you can get past the initial shock (and gag reflex), you're guaranteed to find something delicious. It'll be somewhere between the pig rectum and cod semen.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DwKYJEAmJMU/W_58hKyOGUI/AAAAAAAACIc/ByJHycl-NaI7NGAREWmD7mtryWgxUkBoQCEwYBhgL/s1600/DAY01-25-UW5A2143editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DwKYJEAmJMU/W_58hKyOGUI/AAAAAAAACIc/ByJHycl-NaI7NGAREWmD7mtryWgxUkBoQCEwYBhgL/s640/DAY01-25-UW5A2143editwm.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The best place to sample skewered chicken innards is in Tokyo's Yakitori Lane - a cramped alleyway stuffed with tiny eateries - also known as Piss Alley. During prohibition it was home to many illegal drinking dens, all lacking toilet facilities. Hence the unfortunate nickname.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Japanese pubs, or Izakaya, are a great place to start. Identifiable by paper lanterns hanging at their often unassuming entryways, they are essentially Japanese tapas bars. And because they serve small portions you can be experimental without the risk of being too wasteful. Just in case some of it proves too offensive to your delicate Western palette.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
An absolute must for meat-eaters is a trip to Kobe to sample its world famous beef. A Kobe cow, whilst alive, is massaged daily and fed beer to stimulate appetite. Eye-wateringly expensive but mouth-wateringly tasty, the result is simply the finest steak in the world. And when accompanied with a bottle of red, eating Grade A5 Kobe beef is nothing short of a religious experience.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And who in their right mind would visit Japan without gorging on sushi? Or slurping up a bowl of ramen at one of Tokyo's 6,000+ ramen houses? (Just remember, the louder you slurp the higher the compliment to the chef.)</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-apKli9icVu8/W_58hD69rYI/AAAAAAAACIc/CmeYOEDiVaMnq9V0-QegWeZBoqOKwQuiwCEwYBhgL/s1600/DAY01-25-UW5A2817editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-apKli9icVu8/W_58hD69rYI/AAAAAAAACIc/CmeYOEDiVaMnq9V0-QegWeZBoqOKwQuiwCEwYBhgL/s640/DAY01-25-UW5A2817editwm.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Tsukiji Market is a good place to start if you're looking for fresh sushi.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gdMxGHyfN6o/W_58qlTElWI/AAAAAAAACI0/eCxm_pkNjgkzOwoEg2GPhzVM_ISumdzZgCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/DAY11-04-UW5A4337editwm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gdMxGHyfN6o/W_58qlTElWI/AAAAAAAACI0/eCxm_pkNjgkzOwoEg2GPhzVM_ISumdzZgCPcBGAYYCw/s640/DAY11-04-UW5A4337editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">For uncooked and living animals go and meet the troop of 170 wild Japanese macaque monkeys in Arashiyama, Kyoto.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ETBfjLSNG1Y/W_58rUsFRKI/AAAAAAAACIo/L6RIHTif4bAwiXxLzldfeZb3W8I4-4GjgCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/DAY11-04-UW5A4451editwm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ETBfjLSNG1Y/W_58rUsFRKI/AAAAAAAACIo/L6RIHTif4bAwiXxLzldfeZb3W8I4-4GjgCPcBGAYYCw/s640/DAY11-04-UW5A4451editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><i>If you're lucky there will be babies.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i><br /></i></b>
<b><i>The fun</i></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The fact Japan is the birthplace of embarrassing oneself with a microphone tells you all you need to know. Karaoke is the epitome of Japanese enjoyment. In other words, looking a little bit silly is all part of the fun. Like the couples in matching clothes carrying their favourite cuddly toy, or the fully-grown adults reading Manga comics on the train, or the businessmen in suits playing Pokemon in one of the many videogame arcades.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
This sense of silliness climaxes at Halloween. Combining a love of dressing up with a fondness of commercial hype, October 31st has become a big deal. Trick-or-treating hasn't taken off - thanks to an ingrained cultural reluctance to burden one's neighbours - but that hasn't stopped the Japanese embracing this American celebration with enthusiasm.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And nowhere is Halloween more enthusiastically embraced than the infamous street party of Shibuya, in the heart of Tokyo's downtown. Hoards of fancy-dress-clad Tokyoites gather to drink saké from paper cups and compare costumes in a sea of selfie sticks.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QCQEHinyXjE/XAEoCLDkYWI/AAAAAAAACJM/rxBMaxNc5XAkuPtcbz86yutpFtu6bOPSgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QCQEHinyXjE/XAEoCLDkYWI/AAAAAAAACJM/rxBMaxNc5XAkuPtcbz86yutpFtu6bOPSgCLcBGAs/s400/IMG_1296.JPG" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Probably my favourite.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxrOy4fy5KdUYNovg4iPYUGfN68c95rO8YFt6BSx3m-KsiFNMGxVAK0OToG-7QIEGFRqPTnfmZTeQFnjuep1Q' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><i>The feds</i></b><br />
<br />
Keeping a watchful eye on the rowdiness in Shibuya were Tokyo police, the largest metropolitan police force in the world. But their main focus seemed to be castigating revellers for playing music through portable speakers. <i>You can have fun, but no music! </i><br />
<br />
Invariably, the guilty DJs cut the music. After all, coupled with the Japanese devotion to flawlessness is an uncompromising respect for law and order. Discipline and obedience are culturally enshrined. And as a result, Japanese society not only calls for clean streets and punctual trains, it demands a zero tolerance to crime. And if that means no music, it <i>means</i> no music.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
A plethora of nanny-state rules are rigorously followed, without question and without fail. Don't cross the road unless the man is green; take your litter home with you; no smoking on the street. Japan is certainly not a place for rebels.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CSx1XpSQCBQ/W_5_4kQ1cXI/AAAAAAAACI8/-ZSOSpfS-vcYxwdHTH0HBr6N2J_C1asggCEwYBhgL/s1600/fbUW5A4706edit.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CSx1XpSQCBQ/W_5_4kQ1cXI/AAAAAAAACI8/-ZSOSpfS-vcYxwdHTH0HBr6N2J_C1asggCEwYBhgL/s640/fbUW5A4706edit.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Japan is not a place for rebels... unless you're a sacred wild deer in Nara.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6-siYXcVszI/W_58sN9_nwI/AAAAAAAACIo/mElky2ZhWvw3og8PfPldMoIAPAc0c5LlQCEwYBhgL/s1600/DAY13-06-UW5A4574editwm.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6-siYXcVszI/W_58sN9_nwI/AAAAAAAACIo/mElky2ZhWvw3og8PfPldMoIAPAc0c5LlQCEwYBhgL/s640/DAY13-06-UW5A4574editwm.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">The deer in Nara are well loved by tourists (and well fed), but some locals are not so enamoured.</span></i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Due to agricultural damage the government are planning a cull to manage numbers. To fight this decision some residents have set-up the delightfully named 'Let’s Make the Deer Population More Sustainable and Enjoy Nara Again Friendship Association'. Or the LMTDPMSAENAFA for short.</span></i></div>
</div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jRlH4uDHDXU/W_581lbLEqI/AAAAAAAACI0/UJj0aQvcooQ7mpLfuGENnZMN9QXqFU55wCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/DAY16-09-UW5A5183editwm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jRlH4uDHDXU/W_581lbLEqI/AAAAAAAACI0/UJj0aQvcooQ7mpLfuGENnZMN9QXqFU55wCPcBGAYYCw/s640/DAY16-09-UW5A5183editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Wild deer also roam the island of Miyajima, just off the coast near Hiroshima. </span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Thanks mostly to the general obedience of the population, Tokyo has the lowest crime rate of any major city in the world. Which leaves the largest police force in the world with very little to do. Not surprisingly then, petty crimes are being treated with increasing forensic rigour.<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Just ask the 71 year-old man who was arrested in Tokyo for scribbling a Hitler moustache on a poster. Or the group of friends arrested for running an illegal taxi because they shared the cost of a hire car. No wonder there are dissenting Japanese voices accusing their country of becoming a police state.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FkU71jeYrHA/W_58jAfI8MI/AAAAAAAACII/CI7nIyW15AUfOCXP0APZpD38M2EvEbuyACEwYBhgL/s1600/DAY03-27-UW5A2702editwm.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FkU71jeYrHA/W_58jAfI8MI/AAAAAAAACII/CI7nIyW15AUfOCXP0APZpD38M2EvEbuyACEwYBhgL/s640/DAY03-27-UW5A2702editwm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;">Far from crime: a Japanese garden in Tokyo.</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DzingDE9K9Y/W_58hEXDQ2I/AAAAAAAACIw/tEEXYhP7k484UVN4z_P_-etzLD3wi5WIwCEwYBhgL/s1600/DAY01-25-UW5A2097editwm.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DzingDE9K9Y/W_58hEXDQ2I/AAAAAAAACIw/tEEXYhP7k484UVN4z_P_-etzLD3wi5WIwCEwYBhgL/s640/DAY01-25-UW5A2097editwm.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"><i>Tokyo at night.</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The pursuit of perfection may have had detrimental effects on personal freedoms, but it has to be said: for the average traveler, the feeling of safety is tangible.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
So roam the backstreets at night and loosen your grip on your camera strap. Embrace all the glorious oddities of Japan safe in the knowledge there's probably a policeman around the next corner, bored out of his mind, who's got your back.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-43600300314873478982018-06-05T20:32:00.000+01:002018-06-05T20:35:57.567+01:00How not to falter in Malta<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Are you thinking of a trip to Malta the next time you manage to escape your particular version of tragic reality? Here are a few handy tips along with some photos I took with my very own index finger.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"></span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LZ0OYmEcEAc/WwxE0AZxY1I/AAAAAAAACBA/RyVpfOARzSkTHnMagq4Sxir4SKmQQSMKwCLcBGAs/s1600/UW5A0264edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-LZ0OYmEcEAc/WwxE0AZxY1I/AAAAAAAACBA/RyVpfOARzSkTHnMagq4Sxir4SKmQQSMKwCLcBGAs/s640/UW5A0264edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">San Blas Bay, Gozo © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Tip #1: </b><br />
<br />
Go <i>out-</i>out in Valletta.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We found Valletta's nightlife to be unexpectedly cool. And I mean cool in a cocktail-bars-spilling-out-onto-the-street kind of way, not in a I-think-I-might-need-a-jumper-soon kind of way (though do take a jumper with you just in case, obviously). </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Our highlight was the Cinema Bar where a pianist provided a live soundtrack to old silent films projected onto the wall, whilst I drank over-priced craft beer and chain-ate complimentary popcorn.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-io0XhY6e5WI/WwxEsPVyBNI/AAAAAAAAB_Y/uER560qX7_IomxyS4TLzT3ymGLYkXJAAQCLcBGAs/s1600/UW5A0043edit-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-io0XhY6e5WI/WwxEsPVyBNI/AAAAAAAAB_Y/uER560qX7_IomxyS4TLzT3ymGLYkXJAAQCLcBGAs/s640/UW5A0043edit-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Valletta © Ryan Chapman</i></span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Tip #2: </b><br />
<br />
Don't expect to be blown away by stunning beaches (unless you go to Gozo).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
We stayed in Mellieha because it was said to have one of the best beaches in Malta, but Mellieha itself is just a concrete jungle of ugly hotels and apartment complexes near an underwhelming stretch of sand. And don't even get me started on Bugibba. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The island of Gozo has some far prettier spots. See Tip #3.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-20kN5lPilzA/WwxEyqFWJ7I/AAAAAAAACAs/jKRMlRGPXqYXnHU05ujyCIF5pqCqreLYgCLcBGAs/s640/UW5A0179edit.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Valletta Contemporary, Valletta</i><i> © Ryan Chapman</i></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12.8px;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i style="font-size: medium;"><br /></i></span></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Tip #3: </b><br />
<br />
Gozo is prettier.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A little underwhelmed by what Malta had to offer in terms of scenery, we hired a car and got the ferry over to Gozo (20 minutes). You can drive from anywhere to anywhere on Gozo in less than half an hour on near-empty roads, and - good for us - they drive on the <i>right </i>side of the road (meaning the left side). We saw all four corners of the island in a day and wish we could have stayed longer.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Find the beautiful secluded red sand beach at San Blas and then cross the island for a seafood lunch in the stunning Xlendi Bay. Perfect.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S3i9T2zQZHU/WwxEzX_78XI/AAAAAAAACA4/g3gog8nUq18f3wChi7hmjBdCJWiQsWd2wCLcBGAs/s1600/UW5A0219edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S3i9T2zQZHU/WwxEzX_78XI/AAAAAAAACA4/g3gog8nUq18f3wChi7hmjBdCJWiQsWd2wCLcBGAs/s640/UW5A0219edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">San Blas Bay, Gozo © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eTz-fYc2fIg/WwxE1SlSGJI/AAAAAAAACBQ/eaQotILzTV4XTuXMVziZKinSbZYv31LfgCLcBGAs/s1600/UW5A0335edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eTz-fYc2fIg/WwxE1SlSGJI/AAAAAAAACBQ/eaQotILzTV4XTuXMVziZKinSbZYv31LfgCLcBGAs/s640/UW5A0335edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Xlendi Bay, Gozo © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hAPJuABtWaw/WwxE1z4C15I/AAAAAAAACBY/iFfRiD5dN4keIiSQr2pLYOKuOfxOAC0jACLcBGAs/s1600/UW5A0347edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-hAPJuABtWaw/WwxE1z4C15I/AAAAAAAACBY/iFfRiD5dN4keIiSQr2pLYOKuOfxOAC0jACLcBGAs/s640/UW5A0347edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Xlendi Bay, Gozo © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oDn8EjhyGMo/WwxE4vJ2gCI/AAAAAAAACB8/y16frEZCkmQpLT6fPqLTT6A2OoVgnDA_QCLcBGAs/s1600/UW5A0404edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oDn8EjhyGMo/WwxE4vJ2gCI/AAAAAAAACB8/y16frEZCkmQpLT6fPqLTT6A2OoVgnDA_QCLcBGAs/s640/UW5A0404edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Victoria, Gozo © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Tip #4: </b><br />
<br />
Visit the Lascaris War Rooms.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
All I knew about Malta's involvement in World War II came from a brief summary on the BBC's World War II in Colour series (which is on Netflix now by the way, and is brilliant). It turns out that the George Cross awarded to Malta for the courage of its people was well-earned, and a trip to the War Rooms in Valletta will reveal why.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The defence of Malta from wave after wave of attacks from Axis air forces was orchestrated from here, as was the Invasion of Sicily. Wait for a guided tour and have it all dramatically re-lived. Cross your fingers and hope that Stefan is your guide because he's an incredible goosebump-inducing storyteller. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Before anyone could beat him to it he finished the tour by saying "I know, I know. If only I was your history teacher". He knew everyone was thinking it.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vv8HqgT2dcw/WwxEuMtmuLI/AAAAAAAAB_0/OMOvkCT6XnM8cZEel0gGInkNt2qMC2i8wCLcBGAs/s1600/UW5A0092edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vv8HqgT2dcw/WwxEuMtmuLI/AAAAAAAAB_0/OMOvkCT6XnM8cZEel0gGInkNt2qMC2i8wCLcBGAs/s640/UW5A0092edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Lascaris War Rooms, Valletta © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Tip #5:</b><br />
<br />
The food is incredible.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
It's an over-used compliment and one I think is rarely justified when applied to entire countries,</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
however the food in Malta <i>is</i> incredible. For whatever reason, the bar is set very high. We ate at some average-looking 'this'll do' kind of places and were super impressed with almost everything. We also ate at some very highly-rated places and were never disappointed.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Our overall favourite was Rebekah's in Mellieha. This friendly little place is a Michelin Star waiting to happen. It's fairly priced for what is exceptional food and they even offer a pick-up service if you're staying near-by. Winning.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uB32yaoyaLY/WwxEy0H3iAI/AAAAAAAACAw/8raWquhMekEEeCuLCKGye3VP09wlUPFPgCLcBGAs/s1600/UW5A0191edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uB32yaoyaLY/WwxEy0H3iAI/AAAAAAAACAw/8raWquhMekEEeCuLCKGye3VP09wlUPFPgCLcBGAs/s640/UW5A0191edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Valletta © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KDL1g_dzj9E/WwxE5T0kQHI/AAAAAAAACCk/CdPuHWjylc0mQa_WsHFwO8jQCEgy8I7VQCEwYBhgL/s1600/UW5A0427edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-KDL1g_dzj9E/WwxE5T0kQHI/AAAAAAAACCk/CdPuHWjylc0mQa_WsHFwO8jQCEgy8I7VQCEwYBhgL/s640/UW5A0427edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Gozo sunset © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
To conclude, any trip to Malta should include at least a day exploring Gozo; at least a day and night in Valletta; and some budget set aside to eat really, <i>really</i> well.<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-41687713710592497592018-05-11T11:33:00.001+01:002018-05-11T21:49:54.126+01:00Merci Arsene<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
After an emotionally crushing defeat in Madrid on the Thursday it was easy to imagine the Emirates being somewhat flat for Arsene Wenger's final home match, just three days later. It was anything but.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The stars may not have aligned for Wenger to leave Arsenal on a European trophy high, but they did at least align for his farewell party. The sun, the goals, the late afternoon kick-off on a bank-holiday weekend; all combined to create a special upbeat atmosphere rather than the subdued wake-like affair I had feared.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When Wenger arrived in North London I'd already been a Gooner for a good few years, having been indoctrinated during the tail-end of George Graham's reign. I don't specifically remember the infamous '<i>Arsene Who?</i>' headline - I was even less of a keen reader of the Evening Standard as a kid than I am now - but I do remember the general feeling of intrigue surrounding his appointment. Personally I wanted Ian Wright to take over, ignoring the fact that top strikers don't tend to take on managerial positions at the peak of their playing career.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Kh9v--xx-hI/WvLRY8IyxaI/AAAAAAAAB-Q/wzz0fd1jWkE0-6ZFq0JMzCGWECOQvOVCwCLcBGAs/s1600/Wenger.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="392" data-original-width="696" height="360" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Kh9v--xx-hI/WvLRY8IyxaI/AAAAAAAAB-Q/wzz0fd1jWkE0-6ZFq0JMzCGWECOQvOVCwCLcBGAs/s640/Wenger.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Within two seasons Wenger's poster was pride of place on my bedroom wall: Premiership trophy in his left hand, FA Cup trophy in his right. The 1997/98 league and cup double was just the beginning. Fast-forward a couple of decades and Arsenal fans at the Burnley game - the final home match of this season - were clearly determined not to let recent on-field events sour this day of appreciation. And nor, it seemed, were the players.<br />
<br />
5-0 didn't even flatter Arsenal. With every goal the atmosphere grew more celebratory and at times it had the feel of a testimonial match. When Per Mertesacker entered the field of play for the last time with 10 minutes left, the game reached peak carnival. His every touch was cheered raucously. So vivid were the testimonial vibes I half-expected Wenger to sub himself on and be allowed to dance through the Burnley defence, dodging comically-timed tackles before lifting it over an already horizontal keeper to make it 6.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
But Wenger didn't need to score a goal to be the centre of attention. With just seconds of normal time remaining, 'There's Only One Arsene Wenger' reverberated around the Emirates as loudly as I've heard any chant anywhere. And as if the referee wished to make that the lasting memory of the match he blew for full-time bang on 90 minutes. With the football out of the way, the ceremony could begin.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SA8qKUESmqA/WvN_8Q2ItHI/AAAAAAAAB-g/Uv1AYFOYtDsgLahktR2AltB-_oTMvJmRgCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_6444edit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SA8qKUESmqA/WvN_8Q2ItHI/AAAAAAAAB-g/Uv1AYFOYtDsgLahktR2AltB-_oTMvJmRgCLcBGAs/s640/IMG_6444edit.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
My thoughts as Wenger soaked up the love on a lap around the pitch had little to do with football. My overwhelming feeling was respect. Respect for the dignity and decency with which he conducted himself. Respect for the integrity with which he represented the club. Respect for his balance in commenting on a range of political and societal issues over the years. Respect for his fearlessness in doing things his way, back when <i>his way</i> was completely alien.<br />
<br />
I mean, what right did this unknown Frenchman have - this unknown Frenchman who looked more like he was about to give a philosophy lecture than manage a football team - coming over here and revolutionising our national game? As a 10 year-old, in retrospect, I think that taught me a lot. It taught me not to judge a person on first impressions, their appearance, their nationality, or anything else.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
So where did it all go wrong for Arsene at Arsenal?<br />
<br />
I think Patrick Vieira summed it up perfectly, in a recent interview. Asked what Wenger's biggest strength is, Vieira answered: 'trust', describing how Wenger always trusted his players to do the right thing without direction. But when asked for Wenger's biggest weakness, Vieira answered the same. Trust. "Because sometimes as players you need to be kicked in the arse". And never has that been more true than this season.<br />
<br />
For me though, the prevailing memory can only be respect. Not only has Wenger been a fantastic manager, he's clearly an incredible human being too. So. Merci Arsene. Thank you for being you, and thank you for the memories - the doubles, the FA Cups, <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xeM28xfDw9I" target="_blank">the zipper fails compilation video</a> - and to echo your own sentiments: we will miss you.<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
</div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-57545354635593686732018-02-16T17:20:00.001+00:002018-02-16T17:20:29.962+00:00Film festival update<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My work is on show at several film festivals over the next few months. Here's what and where.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><u>A Southern Quest:</u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>US: Flagstaff Mountain Film Festival, </b><b>18th February</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>IE: Killarney Mountain Festival, 10th March</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>US: Wasatch Mountain Film Festival, 2nd - 8th April</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
A Southern Quest was a long time in the oven and is now gaining much-deserved traction at adventure film festivals. The film follows an ambitious expedition led by renowned climber Stephen Venables to conqueror unclimbed peaks on the Antarctic island of South Georgia.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My role began as editor but I've since taken on shooting and producing responsibilities and I'm delighted to see all the hard work paying off.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9-ped0ULB04/WoWeZSsQ4pI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/KkiPDWe6skImpt4EGha07wALvJ3uecy3ACLcBGAs/s1600/A%2BSouthern%2BQuest.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: justify;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9-ped0ULB04/WoWeZSsQ4pI/AAAAAAAAB8Q/KkiPDWe6skImpt4EGha07wALvJ3uecy3ACLcBGAs/s640/A%2BSouthern%2BQuest.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As an added bonus, Stephen Venables - the undisputed star of the film thanks to his effortless charm and witty one-liners - also happens to be giving a talk at the Killarney Mountain Festival about his experiences climbing Mount Everest on a famous trip in 1988.<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><u>Austerity Britain: Grenfell</u></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>GB: Shorts On Tap, tbc</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>GB: Beer Town Film Festival, 26th May</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
There's always a worry that a film about a particular event or tragedy will quickly become outdated and irrelevant. Not so with a film about the Grenfell disaster. As we learn more and more about the causes of the fire and the subsequent lacklustre response from the authorities, it's as pertinent as ever to reflect on the lessons society and government haven't yet learnt.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
This film was part of a four-part series I produced, directed and edited last year about the devastating societal effects of idealogical austerity. The fire at Grenfell happened after the first two parts had been released and was an obvious focus for the final instalment as it encapsulates the 'culture of cuts' so horrifically well.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KTuszBtA0JM/WoWluhiiz_I/AAAAAAAAB8g/4fgGGb81VvcNSn_uZBTTl4cWFlFZhmRsACLcBGAs/s1600/austerity%2Bgrenfell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="628" data-original-width="1143" height="350" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KTuszBtA0JM/WoWluhiiz_I/AAAAAAAAB8g/4fgGGb81VvcNSn_uZBTTl4cWFlFZhmRsACLcBGAs/s640/austerity%2Bgrenfell.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
When I submitted the film to the Beer Town Film Festival I thought it was being held in the quaint Cornish coastal town of Beer. However, it turns out the 'beer' in this instance is literal and the festival is in fact being hosted by a brewery in Staffordshire. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
As a perk for being involved I'm entitled to 'brewery benefits' which I'm sincerely hoping is just another way of saying 'free beer'.<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-31562356233386153562018-01-31T19:34:00.001+00:002018-01-31T19:49:47.340+00:00A Transylvanian Traverse<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
I knew they brought down a communist dictator with a revolution in 1989. I knew they beat England with late goals in 1998 and 2000. And I knew Nigel Farage said he doesn't want them living next door. But that was pretty much all I knew about Romania and its people before travelling through Transylvania.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ffnvGxroo0k/WnIdiGajPNI/AAAAAAAAB7Q/0P4Ovsppom0RX7845Hu6ykUzms1Fv6CmgCLcBGAs/s1600/3C9A1540.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ffnvGxroo0k/WnIdiGajPNI/AAAAAAAAB7Q/0P4Ovsppom0RX7845Hu6ykUzms1Fv6CmgCLcBGAs/s640/3C9A1540.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">© Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rtU0EFEUHoQ/WnID-5S0nkI/AAAAAAAAB6c/Bd0wgZexduUFaypOJmQbAneZhtP8UcvUwCLcBGAs/s1600/3C9A0775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rtU0EFEUHoQ/WnID-5S0nkI/AAAAAAAAB6c/Bd0wgZexduUFaypOJmQbAneZhtP8UcvUwCLcBGAs/s640/3C9A0775.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Timișoara © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
It turns out Farage isn't alone in his disdain for the former Soviet-bloc nation. According to a poll, Romania is overwhelmingly the EU country where Brits would least like to live. So, naturally, I was keen to find out what's so dreadful about the place and its people and I strongly suspected the answer was nothing at all.<br />
<br />
Here are some highlights of the trip, interspersed with photos and the occasional vague attempt at humour*.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b>Libearty Sanctuary (near Brasov)</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Up until fairly recently it wasn't uncommon for Romania's native brown bears to be captured by restaurant owners and kept as pets to attract customers. I don't know about you, but when I'm choosing an eatery I'm often swayed if they have a distressed caged bear at the front door.<br />
<br />
This practice was illegal, but the authorities turned a blind eye because there was nowhere to house any rescued bears. That was until 2005, when the brilliantly named Libearty Sanctuary opened its doors. Which was just in time because when Romania joined the EU new animal rights laws rendered many of the country's zoos illegal, adding to the list of bears needing a new home.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MMbcJYYjdAU/WmSJPp8cdjI/AAAAAAAAB3s/u7ogVH4kReQTXyqfA-8GX2TIqQMlnQhfQCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/3C9A1503wm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MMbcJYYjdAU/WmSJPp8cdjI/AAAAAAAAB3s/u7ogVH4kReQTXyqfA-8GX2TIqQMlnQhfQCPcBGAYYCw/s640/3C9A1503wm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">© Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7BQd_Y5D0t4/WmSJP6VBzkI/AAAAAAAAB3w/VQdLU4idrA0tph-win33ACwMK7UTEIUMwCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/3C9A1548wm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7BQd_Y5D0t4/WmSJP6VBzkI/AAAAAAAAB3w/VQdLU4idrA0tph-win33ACwMK7UTEIUMwCPcBGAYYCw/s640/3C9A1548wm.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">© Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: justify;">The sanctuary is part rehabilitation centre, part retirement home. The elders live out the rest of their days in bear paradise and the cubs are taught how to wild, before eventually being released. The sanctuary is very keen to specify it is 'not a zoo' and that its primary concern is for bears, not tourists. In other words, if you don't see any bears, tough shit.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<b><br /></b>
<b>The Museum of the Revolution, Timisoara</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Timisoara is probably the most historically significant city in Romania. As like most of history, the majority of it happened ages ago. But, as recently as 1989, the revolt against Nicolae Ceausescu's regime began here, in the far west of the country. The tidal wave of revolution spread eastward towards Bucharest and Ceausescu was toppled several days - and at least a thousand lives - later, before being sentenced to death by firing squad.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t2vFQBH3v1s/WnCfogf3e_I/AAAAAAAAB5E/7617k1ojewcXLUW0_2PtEXxvBkEWW8HtQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG-5299.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t2vFQBH3v1s/WnCfogf3e_I/AAAAAAAAB5E/7617k1ojewcXLUW0_2PtEXxvBkEWW8HtQCLcBGAs/s640/IMG-5299.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Timișoara © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
To this day, bullet scars littering building facades in Timisoara make the violence of 89 seem all the more recent. The Museum of the Revolution brings it to life further, in a very understated way, inside a dilapidated building that probably hasn't seen a paintbrush since Ceausescu was in power (though I suspect this is intentional).</div>
<b><br /></b> <b>Christmas Markets</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Sibiu was first on the Romanian Christmas Market scene, and other cities were quick to get in on the action of glühwein and sweet treats. Whilst Sibiu's is the most festively colourful, they range from the complete meat-feast in Timisoara (think hog roasts and sausages) to hosting almost-forgotten British band Smokie in Brasov (<i>Living Next Door to Alice</i> went down a storm, although some people weren't fully aware of who Alice is, judging by what they shouted during the chorus).</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FdAV8ybRhZE/WnCkO15QnbI/AAAAAAAAB5k/ieZ1Tt9bzpQhWZvD9BbNHokjYP3E5NmRgCLcBGAs/s1600/3C9A0738.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-FdAV8ybRhZE/WnCkO15QnbI/AAAAAAAAB5k/ieZ1Tt9bzpQhWZvD9BbNHokjYP3E5NmRgCLcBGAs/s640/3C9A0738.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Timișoara © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ddSNNnr3h6c/WnCkOwsE_VI/AAAAAAAAB5g/qDlIIOQVHbIBJqVN4PkvrTgboN9nXVCLwCLcBGAs/s1600/3C9A1255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="425" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ddSNNnr3h6c/WnCkOwsE_VI/AAAAAAAAB5g/qDlIIOQVHbIBJqVN4PkvrTgboN9nXVCLwCLcBGAs/s640/3C9A1255.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Sibiu © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rB5HB3sr0Zk/WnIFLEejioI/AAAAAAAAB60/PN1D79dfl9Mgs_ZOUgxSXJ0EiJwbakS2QCLcBGAs/s1600/3C9A1214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rB5HB3sr0Zk/WnIFLEejioI/AAAAAAAAB60/PN1D79dfl9Mgs_ZOUgxSXJ0EiJwbakS2QCLcBGAs/s640/3C9A1214.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Sibiu © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BKX_h-KMtZA/WnCkORfi8KI/AAAAAAAAB5c/Muxl6WC8zAQ_RAR8n__L25s7yVUUBi5eACLcBGAs/s1600/3C9A1575.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BKX_h-KMtZA/WnCkORfi8KI/AAAAAAAAB5c/Muxl6WC8zAQ_RAR8n__L25s7yVUUBi5eACLcBGAs/s640/3C9A1575.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Brasov © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<b><b><b><b>Castles</b></b></b></b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="text-align: justify;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-align: justify;">Bran Castle - also known as Dracula's Castle - is a confusing mix of gothic splendour and bullshit. The approach is laden with vampire references, as this is said to be the inspiration behind Bram Stoker's fictional castle in</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span><i style="text-align: justify;">Dracula</i><span style="text-align: justify;">. However, there's no evidence to suggest either Stoker or Vlad the Impaler - who Dracula was loosely based on - even visited the area, let alone the castle. In fact, they probably didn't even know it existed.</span><br />
<br />
Soon after entering, the vampire bubble is burst and you realise it's actually a museum of furniture once belonging to some royal family in the 1920's. So you come for 15th century Transylvanian vampires and get 20th century Ikea.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OUBptanKtIM/WnGRvR-XbGI/AAAAAAAAB6M/6LGBrkUxX2cXm5BWLGXlKxLHcMnsrv7RQCLcBGAs/s1600/3C9A1447-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OUBptanKtIM/WnGRvR-XbGI/AAAAAAAAB6M/6LGBrkUxX2cXm5BWLGXlKxLHcMnsrv7RQCLcBGAs/s640/3C9A1447-2.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Bran Castle © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
They know it's bullshit, we know it's bullshit, they know we know it's bullshit, but tenuous links aside, armed with an active imagination Bran Castle is actually worth a visit. Just don't get locked in because rumour has it you wouldn't survive the night...</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For an actual castle, with turrets and shit, there's Corvin Castle which watches over the somewhat crappy town of Hunedoara. And there's not a cartoon vampire in sight.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--LWcl5CbWNg/WnCiHEyV-nI/AAAAAAAAB5Q/3L4HfOJt6BgpLYlOgJ7NJL9uqzA_6pQewCLcBGAs/s1600/3C9A1002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="424" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--LWcl5CbWNg/WnCiHEyV-nI/AAAAAAAAB5Q/3L4HfOJt6BgpLYlOgJ7NJL9uqzA_6pQewCLcBGAs/s640/3C9A1002.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Corvin Castle © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>In summary:</b></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
If myth-busting borderline xenophobic perceptions isn't a good enough reason to choose Romania as your next holiday destination then go for the charming old towns, refreshingly affordable restaurants and, of course, the bears.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BqHihjB9y30/WnIEnKlE_4I/AAAAAAAAB6o/l0bbWN3vvOE9dJVfvN7z8QyAa-Ig9vp_gCLcBGAs/s1600/3C9A1283.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1600" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-BqHihjB9y30/WnIEnKlE_4I/AAAAAAAAB6o/l0bbWN3vvOE9dJVfvN7z8QyAa-Ig9vp_gCLcBGAs/s400/3C9A1283.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: small;">Sibiu © Ryan Chapman</span></i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Be aware that nothing Romania is perfect. If the meal is delicious, the service will probably let you down. If the train is on time, there will probably be a power cut. If the cocktail menu looks good, they'll probably have run out of ice. But, be tolerant, and Romania is incredibly rewarding. After all, perfection is dull anyway.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
*Umm, I warned you they'd be vague.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-43243715324630153252017-10-05T15:05:00.002+01:002017-10-05T15:15:28.981+01:00Make it Short film festival<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
My film <i>Austerity Britain: Grenfell</i>, exploring the ways in which the ‘culture of cuts’ contributed to the Grenfell fire, is hitting the short film festival circuit. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1M5--leFa9A/WbfLwyw0TtI/AAAAAAAABu0/p4RjbT3PAroTbAAsL6FzLWd4SJwA2X6hgCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/austerity%2Bgrenfell.jpg"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1M5--leFa9A/WbfLwyw0TtI/AAAAAAAABu0/p4RjbT3PAroTbAAsL6FzLWd4SJwA2X6hgCPcBGAYYCw/s400/austerity%2Bgrenfell.jpg" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
First up is the Make it Short film festival in Lewes on the weekend of 14th/15th of October. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Make it Short is a film festival aiming to shape cultural and social debate and will be showcasing films on the topics of social realism, alternative facts and modern feminism, among others. </div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<i>Austerity Britain: Grenfell</i> - the 4th of the four-part series I made for Sub this summer - will close the Saturday afternoon session at around 6pm.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
For more information visit: <a href="http://makeitshort.co.uk/">http://makeitshort.co.uk</a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<style type="text/css"> p.p1 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000} p.p2 {margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica; -webkit-text-stroke: #000000; min-height: 14.0px} span.s1 {font-kerning: none} span.s2 {text-decoration: underline ; font-kerning: none; color: #4787ff; -webkit-text-stroke: 0px #4787ff} </style></div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-7360366360241587422017-09-12T11:52:00.003+01:002017-09-14T16:42:21.734+01:00[Film] Austerity Britain: Part Four<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<iframe allowfullscreen="true" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="315" scrolling="no" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FSUBProdUK%2Fvideos%2F1230129460426747%2F&show_text=0&width=560" style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" width="560"></iframe>
<br />
<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
In the aftermath of the Grenfell fire, the borough of Kensington and Chelsea held a council meeting to discuss their response to the disaster. With the public gallery filling up with local residents and survivors poised to demand answers, a Tory councillor - unaware of being filmed - appears to be reaching the end of his tether.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Except, in that moment, Councillor Matthew Palmer was not angry at the string of failures that led to the fire. Nor was he fuming at the lacklustre response of his colleagues.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1M5--leFa9A/WbfLwyw0TtI/AAAAAAAABuw/OwxM-Ffqxo8zTBymVaZhOFu1khWR54J6ACLcBGAs/s1600/austerity%2Bgrenfell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="628" data-original-width="1143" height="350" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1M5--leFa9A/WbfLwyw0TtI/AAAAAAAABuw/OwxM-Ffqxo8zTBymVaZhOFu1khWR54J6ACLcBGAs/s640/austerity%2Bgrenfell.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Cllr Palmer's frustration was in fact directed at a group of local residents banging on a locked door, desperate to enter and be heard. “Don’t let them in” he mouths, “don’t let them in”.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
And that, in all its four-word simplicity, sums up the attitude of the ruling class towards the rest of us. It’s under the duress of exactly this attitude that austerity has been allowed to fester and why now - looming over West London, casting its shadows of shame - austerity has an emblem.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
The 4th part of my series of films <i>Austerity Britain</i> looks at the ways in which the 'culture of cuts' played a part in one of the most horrific accidents in recent history.<br />
<br />
All four parts can be viewed <a href="https://www.ryanchapman.net/austerity-britain" target="_blank">here</a>.</div>
<br /></div>
</div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-483324579635064002017-08-30T18:33:00.002+01:002017-09-07T17:53:07.361+01:00[Film] Austerity Britain: Part Three<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Austerity Britain is my series of short films challenging the claim that "we're all in this together", and exposing the 'culture of cuts' as a counter-productive ideological obsession (read more about my motivations <a href="http://ryanchapman.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/austerity-britain.html">here</a>).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Part Three goes behind the scenes at my local foodbank to dispel a few myths about how they run and who uses them.</div>
<br />
PART THREE:<br />
<br />
<div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="true" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="315" scrolling="no" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FSUBProdUK%2Fvideos%2F1219423694830657%2F&show_text=0&width=560" style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" width="560"></iframe>
</div>
<div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4373458070521370551.post-61559621372037984762017-06-07T17:08:00.000+01:002017-09-07T18:03:22.391+01:00[Film] Austerity Britain: Part Two<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Austerity Britain is my series of short films challenging the claim that "we're all in this together", and exposing the 'culture of cuts' as a counter-productive ideological obsession (read more about my motivations <a href="http://ryanchapman.blogspot.co.uk/2017/05/austerity-britain.html">here</a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a>).</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Part Two focusses on education, where austerity translates into devastating cuts to school funding and the closure of children's centers all around the country.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
PART TWO:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<iframe allowfullscreen="true" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="315" scrolling="no" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FSUBProdUK%2Fvideos%2F1148194875286873%2F&show_text=0&width=560" style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" width="560"></iframe>
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Among the contributors are two prominent economists arguing against the status quo: Richard Murphy and Steve Keen. Both are professors at universities in London and both recently signed<a href="https://www.theguardian.com/news/2017/jun/03/the-big-issue-labour-manifesto-what-economy-needs"> a statement </a>along with over 100 other economists, supporting Labour's proposals in this election.</div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
Part One (below) focusses on the issue of homelessness - specifically in my home town of Cambridge where cases of rough sleeping are on the rise and night shelters are struggling to keep up with demand.</div>
<br />
<iframe allowfullscreen="true" allowtransparency="true" frameborder="0" height="315" scrolling="no" src="https://www.facebook.com/plugins/video.php?href=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.facebook.com%2FSUBProdUK%2Fvideos%2F1143221609117533%2F&show_text=0&width=560" style="border: none; overflow: hidden;" width="560"></iframe>
<br />
<br /></div>
</div>
Ryan Chapmanhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00839117689898916752noreply@blogger.com0