Beginning a hike from Birg station to the Schilthorn revolving restaurant, before changing my plans and walking down the very steep path to Allmendhubel and Mürren.
Schilthornhütte, Switzerland
A small mountain cabin overlooking the Bluemental valley serves as a restaurant for hikers in the summer and for skiiers in winter. Between seasons, when the restaurant is closed, the spot is a blissfully peaceful point on the mountain, to which only determined walkers come. The Birg mountain station overlooks the scene, and on a… (Read More)
My England
My England is green and pleasant. In my mind’s eye, the countryside is green and rolling, with occasional villages surrounding leafy, oaked cricket pitches or busy duck ponds. The lanes of my youth lead past scattering pheasants and floral hedgerows which echo the sound of a slightly ropey semi-classic British sports car. Towns are timbered and… (Read More)
The boy on a pogo stick
Roses wave gently in the breeze, and a wood pigeon coos from a tree, unseen. A cyclist glides silently by and a muffled, childish swear word echoes quietly from a nearby football pitch. Bees buzz, breezes waft, and a boy bounces past on a pogo stick.
The view that isn’t quite there
Somewhere in the hills which push up the wall of rock on the western end of the Bernese Alps, there is a view. A view of rolling hills, green trees, little farm buildings and forested land. Beyond them, the sparkling turquoise-blue water of the Thunersee, with the impossibly white, impossibly high range of mountains which… (Read More)
Basse Ville
I regain a holiday feeling by sitting in an old town square, eating pizza, whilst locals perch on a wall, smoking cigarettes before a little bus arrives and rattles them away. Swifts and martins race through the narrow lanes, far above us, to catch their own dinner. The sun slowly retreats up the old stone buildings surrounding… (Read More)
Kilmuir Easter Church
The only remains of antiquity that stood in this parish, were last year removed. In the place of Delny, once a principal seat of the Earls of Ross, stood the ruins of a Romish chapel on a pleasant bank surrounded by graves. This spot has been deserted as a burying place for many years; and… (Read More)
Sixteen years in London; a response
Dear Konstantin, I was born in London and spent a lot of time there during my twenties, as you know. I was still in my twenties when I moved away – far away, as you did – before I found my feet as a photographer and found my niche as an explorer of everyday places. Even… (Read More)
