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Friday 2004-03-26 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Photo equipment
I’d like a new lens with a larger zoom range for my camera. Went along to the photographer’s shop; he’ll call me back on Tuesday with what he finds out about the possibilities.
Monday 2004-03-29 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Lens?
Didn’t hear back from foto Den Boer all afternoon. I’ll have to call them later.
And the weather was glorious in Amsterdam, so I could have worked on my balcony but I stayed inside especially so I would be able to hear the phone! Grr.
Saturday 2004-04-10 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
New lens!
Since I hadn’t heard from the photographer’s store, I went around again. It turned out they had tried to find what I’d heard exists and couldn’t find it, but had not really given up yet. Whereupon I did — and went for the next best thing: a 28-300mm zoom lens for my Canon EOS. Unfortunately not in stock, but with a bit of luck they’ll have it on Tuesday.
I also arranged for films and more lead pouches to protect them (no, I don’t trust the X-ray machines at the smaller airports).
Tuesday 2004-04-13 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Lens arrived!
Phone call from the photographer’s store: the new lens has arrived! Off to the store to pick it up, and various accessories such as a skylight filter and a close-up lens (for those extra-close macro shots). I also get a quite decent price for my old lens, which makes the financial shock a little less.
Wednesday 2004-04-14 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Pleasant practicing
My parents are coming over from Groningen for a visit to Amsterdam today, and the weather is glorious. An ideal occasion to test out the new lens: I must be sure it works properly before I leave. After a nice lunch near the station we go to my apartment for my parents to admire the balcony I’m transforming into a garden, and then we’re off.
I play around a lot with the lens, making the types of shots I normally make, but also some to deliberately test various aspects, from close-up shots with the extra lens, to trying out the 300mm. The children’s farm also provides some nice subjects.
While we’re walking around, I look closely at what muslim women here are wearing, and whether it looks comfortable. Much of what the young women are wearing actually isn’t appropriate for Iran, but I am getting some ideas. At the end of the afternoon, we have a delicious Turkish pizza at Larende, a Turkish neighborhood restaurant; “Turkish pizza” here is not a lamacun, but a like a regular pizza, only with Turkish ingredients like spicy ground lamb. We all had a wonderful day.
Saturday 2004-05-08 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Near disaster!
Taxi was ordered for 4:30 am but the driver rings already five minutes earlier than that; I’m not quite ready. Still, I grab my bags and hop in; with very little traffic we’re soon at the airport. Five minutes later I suddenly say “Oh s**t!” - I have a backpack full of films but don’t have my camera!
I rush outside and ask the first taxi driver I see if he can get me to Amsterdam and back at Schiphol airport again before 5:50. No problem he says. So we go home, I grab my camera, and back to the airport. The driver jokes that for the price of this ride, I could buy a camera — well, yes, but not this one! We still make it back with time to spare. Disaster avoided.
Tuesday 2004-05-18 - Şanlıurfa, Turkey
Medieval atmosphere
This morning, Carla and I first roam through the curving alleys of the old town of Urfa with its medieval houses. It’s a veritable labyrinth, no right angle, no straight street, beautiful bow-windows and some houses actually built right over the streets, and — not suprisingly — a lot of interesting doors for my photographic collection.
We end up near the river (an open sewer) where Kurdish people have a market of second-hand clothes. It’s quite obvious the Kurdish people are among the poorest in Turkey, even though we’re here in Kurdish territory.
On we go along the vegetable market and through the bazaar until we end up near the carp pond where we meet Thom.
Saturday 2004-05-22 - Akdamar, Turkey
Church on an island
Van is a big city but (apart from a museum that’s said to be nice) not very interesting in itself. Instead, we go to the island Akdamar in the Lake of Van. We’ve decided not to take the (expensive) official tour but arrange our own. With our own bus we drive back along the east and south side of the lake, with again a spectacular view of the green-blue lake with snow-capped mountain ranges all around. Where the ferry boats leave for the island, our tour companion arranges with the boat owner that he will take us there, make a circle all around the island, then give us three hours to spend there. We’ve taken along food for a picnic lunch, bought before we left.
Our main goal is the old Holy Cross church built on the island, dating back to the 10th century. There are beautiful reliefs on all the walls; inside there are still some fresco fragments, mostly blues but hard to discern what the scenes are. Around the church is also a number of grave stones, most half-toppled, some also finely decorated with reliefs.
The island has two tops; I skip the high one to spare my painful knees the steep climb but go with Vera to the lower one on the south-east side. From there you can still overlook almost all the island, and I attempt to make a panorama photograph — a bit hard to do balancing on the rocks… no idea how this will come out. The island is covered with many types of flowers, different kinds of lillies and hyacinths, wild onions, beautiful euphorbias, many species I don’t recognize. I take a lot of pictures! After our picnic lunch we return to Van, where I decide to spend the remainder of the afternoon writing.
After our extensive lunch on the island we’re not terribly hungry so in the evening we head back to the ‘soup salon’ for a light meal, where we find most of the group also enjoying their delicious soup! After dinner it’s back to the Internet cafe in Van (there’s one conveniently right next to our hotel) to catch up with my travel blog!
Saturday 2004-05-29 - Hamedān, Iran
Mirror, mirror on the wall … no, everywhere!
The hotel in Hamedān is inconveniently far outside the town center - and there’s a big thunderstorm when we arrive. Carla and I decide to stay in the hotel; inside practically every surface except the floor is covered in faceted mirrors, with glaring white lights in-between: truly dazzling. I attempt to catch the glitter in a photograph — it’s hard to know how that will turn out: glaring lights tend to confuse my camera’s light meter…
Another surprise: for the first time in Iran we see ladies behind the reception desk.
Monday 2004-06-07 - Persepolis, Iran
Impressive palaces
Today we make an excursion to Takht-e Jamshid, a huge complex of palaces started by king Darius I in about 512 BC and completed by a range of successive kings (Xerxes among them) over a period of 200 years. It was originally called Pārsā but is better known to us by the name Persepolis which is what the Greeks called it when they invaded and destroyed the city in 331 BC.
We leave Shirāz already at six in the morning, hoping to be at the site at seven, when the light should be good. We are - but alas they can’t open up for us: official opening time is 7:30 and the guard doesn’t have a key. It’s 7:45 before we’re actually inside. As a result, the famous reliefs on the Apadama staircase, now protected by a roof, are half in the shadow already: it’s obvious that at seven the light would have been much better, the sun is too high in the sky already now…
On the site as a whole, some pillars still stand, and parts of gateways with sculptures and reliefs but I’m most fascinated by the reliefs found on almost every upright surface; while many are damaged there’s still a lot in very good condition. Almost all of them depict long lines of people from all parts of the huge Persian empire coming to pay tribute to the king. If you know what to look for, the various nations can be recognized by their clothing, hair and beard (all are men) and attributes. Easy to spot are the Persians with a straight hat and the Medians with a round cap; I think I also spot a Phrygian hat - and there are many more. All these people seem to be walking with the visitor as it were, along the same corridors, and actually climbing the same stairs; sometimes two abreast - a surprising bit of perspective in the otherwise ‘flat’ scenes. Other reliefs show the king (or maybe a prince) controlling a bull or a lion. The capitals of the pillars are often two-headed figures such as eagles, lions or bulls.
Overlooking the site is the tomb of Artaxerxes II, hewn out from the face of the mountain and also decorated with beautiful reliefs. I climb up to there (ignoring my protesting knees) and see my effort rewarded with a beautiful view - hopefully caught in the panorama photograph I make from there.
The whole complex is enormous and very impressive. Interestingly, the actual use of these palaces is not quite known, whether they were lived in, or used only for ceremonial purposes. What is obvious though is that this city in its time must have been a stunning symbol of power and wealth.
Saturday 2004-06-12 - Bājgirān, Iran
Border formalities
We leave Mashhad at six - without breakfast - since we want to be early at the border so we won’t have to wait all day. When we are a little outside the city, our guide, Hassan, manages to produce tea, fresh bread and cheese on the bus, so our stomachs aren’t rumbling. At 10 we’re at the border at Bājgirān and the long wait starts. Leaving Iran is no problem, entering Turkmenistan a bit of a hassle. The passport check just after the Iranian exit gate is easy enough but then we need to wait for our bus to pick us up and take us to the actual Turkmen border post. Finally our guide, Bava, appears — without the bus: it was not allowed to go through till the gate. In two shifts we go in a minibus taxi to the customs check. The driver goes at a crazy speed along the winding mountain road, laughing at our worried looks, refusing to slow down.
We’ve heard stories about Turkmen border officials, so we insist we won’t enter the customs building until we’re all together; then we go one by one, with our guide and our tour companion watching, keeping in mind the stories about border officials grabbing what they could. Apart from a lot of hassle with all the forms, stamps and counter stamps, it all goes surprisingly easy though: the officers (half of them women) are friendly and actually check only a few bags. My load of films (more than 100 in lead-lined bags) causes mainly amazement: “Are these all yours?” - “Yes” - “How many used?” - “About half” - “OK.” The serial number of my camera is noted on the declaration form. A cursory glance and poke at the inside of my big bag, and that’s all. Still, since we do it all one by one, bag by single bag, it takes a long time.
Sunday 2004-06-13 - Aşgabat, Turkmenistan
Delivering photographs - with a laugh and a tear
After the animal market outside the walls we head for the market enclosure of the Talkoetsjka bazaar. Aşgabat’s famous tapestry market occupies a big section of it and around here I have some portraits to deliver: photographs I took last time I was here, two years ago. Although I fear I may not find people back, it goes surprisingly well, though not always cheerfully.
The picture of the cheerful young boy soon finds his father, who we see half an hour later still sitting in the same spot, still holding the photograph. Later, I go to the outside of the enclosure where there are some small shops built into the wall, one of them of a friendly instrument maker I took a picture of. The location is easy to find - some half-finished instruments are lying on a low table to prove it — but I don’t see the friendly man on my picture. I show it to the woman sitting behind the table: the result is a loud cry of — surprise? and something else, but I can’t understand her. (I miss our guide Bava, he could have helped by translating but we soon lost him in the crowd.) She calls a younger man over, probably her son, who explains with gestures that the man died last year as a result of a car crash. When I give the picture to the woman she’s obviously both glad and sad at the same time, while the young man can barely control his tears.
Old grandma with her toothless smile is found with the help of a colleague of her: after I’d already given up and given the picture to the woman who obviously recognized her, asking her to deliver it. No need, she suddenly comes back and beckons us: grandma is found, her smile still exactly the same, her surprise even bigger than her smile. One younger woman translates: grandma wants to know what it costs - nothing of course! That earns me two bigs hugs and kisses. It’s a good antidote for the sadness of not finding the friendly instrument maker back. Even the last two pictures ultimately find their respective owners — amidst a score of jealous colleagues.
In the afternoon we tour a number of sites in the city itself, among them the beautiful “Blue Mosque” (built with Turkish financial help and m modeled after the Blue Mosque in Istanbul). Here I took pictures of a Turkmen couple; I’m hoping someone in the mosque or a caretaker will recognize them and be able to deliver the pictures. Not only is there indeed a caretaker who recognizes them — he even remembers our group sitting and chatting with them two years ago! He promises he’ll do his best to deliver the pictures to them: they come here regularly, he says. (I’m glad Bava is with me this time to translate!) Two people in Aşgabat have a little surprise waiting for them…
Alas, our planned visit to the Carpet Museum can’t take place: when we arrive it appears that opening times have changed a short while ago, now it’s closed on Sundays. I’m very disappointed — I had so looked forward to it!
Monday 2004-07-12 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
How about my foot?
Back in Amsterdam, alas. Early — as early as possible — I called my doctor for an appointment this morning, since my foot still hurts, and there’s still some swelling as well that never quite goes away. Maybe some physiotherapy can help. I can get an appointment for later this morning.
“In view of developments, let’s have an X-ray taken,” she says. When I look doubtful, she explains that sometimes a crack in the bone can be seen, even after 4 weeks; she gives me a referral. When I get back home I phone the hospital for an appointment: this Wednesday.
Later in the day, I bring my film rolls to the lab: 60 rolls in all!
Wednesday 2004-07-14 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Good news and bad news
To the radiology department in the nearest hospital in Amsterdam to have an X-ray taken of my foot; camera around my neck which I plan to deliver at the photographer’s to be thoroughly cleaned after all the desert dust it had to deal with: you can never completely clean that out with a little “blow brush”.
I have to wait to hear how the picture has turned out. When it’s done the assistant tells me the good news is the picture turned out well — but she has bad news, too: my foot is broken. I’m gobsmacked! I walked on it for four weeks, and never suspected that — a crack is the worst I considered.
She sends me straight on to the emergency ward, where the doctor takes a look at the X-ray, and tells me “If you’d come here immediately we’d have operated”: the bone parts aren’t even joined up properly! In fact, there’s a gap of over 4 mm. My mouth drops open: it certainly didn’t feel like that. He sends me on to the “plaster room” to have a walking cast fitted. An hour later I’m outside with my foot in a (walking) cast, and still a little dazed: I had never believed it was broken! The emergency room arranges an appointment with a surgeon in hospital for next week.
After waiting for my cast to harden completely, I go straight home, and call the photographer’s shop to say I won’t be bringing the camera today after all. Then I call my parents: I won’t be over this weekend after all: a disappointment to my mum whose birthday it was last Monday.
Now, I need to learn how to walk with this stiff thing at the end of my leg…
Monday 2005-09-19 - Bejing, China
To the Opera
In the evening we go with most of the group to the Beijing Opera. Unlike last year, we go to the actual Beijing Opera house: a small building that’s over 400 years old, with quite beautifully decorated woodwork inside. A pity we have places on the balcony, on the side: we don’t have a very good view of the stage; also the explanation of the performance is not as good as we had last year. The performance itself is sublime though and the piece after the intermission is especially interesting for us: the star is the Monkey King — after whom our travel organization (Koning Aap) is called.
I know the film in my camera is not fast enough to be able to take pictures in the theater so I didn’t bring it. But a digital camera usually has a much wider range, so I try to do something with my brand-new camera phone. It’s just an experiment, but you never know: just one good picture would be nice to have.
Afterwards we all go and have a beer together in the hutongs before returning to the hotel. All in all a nice and interesting evening out.
Saturday 2005-09-24 - Xi'an, China
Lazy day in Xi’an
I’m up late after yesterday’s busy day in Xi’an. I have a light breakfast at the cafeteria downstairs (two delicious balls of vegetables with a spicy sauce but to my surprise they have no tea today!). The rest of the morning I spend checking out, parking my luggage in the luggage room and catching up with my writing.
After lunch I go out with our tour companion Marie Josee to scout out another Internet cafe she spotted in the corner of the square across the street from the hotel. We find it’s very hot inside (in spite of the fans turning on the ceiling) and more expensive than yesterday’s Internet cafe to boot so we go back there. It’s been overcast, very dark today, and just when we arrive at the Internet cafe it starts to rain lightly. After two hours typing and (mostly) catching up I stop: I had planned to walk around anther area of the city that we saw from the taxi yesterday; I’m afraid it will be too dark if I continue typing any longer.
Alas, when I get out it’s not only raining harder but also much darker than I expected. I walk to the old quarter anyway. Once there I try to take some pictures, smuggling with exposure times otherwise it’s impossible to take any. The area is very interesting in terms of town planning: tree-lined streets without real sidewalks but the houses are all built on a much higher level than the streets: the difference of up to two meters is bridges with steps up to the entrances and oblique walls; sometimes there’s a path on the upper level to reach the mostly walled yards. It’s really hard to describe — I hope my pictures turn out.
I give up on my other plan to climb the North gate of the city wall and take more pictures from there — it’s really too dark now. Clearly I’ll have to come back to Xi’an once more: there’s still plenty of interesting things to see and do here.
At nine we go to the station again to catch the night train to Lanzhou.
Monday 2005-09-26 - Xiahe, China
Fun with my camera
There is supposed to be an English-language guided tour through the Labrang monastery complex at Xiahe (which some of the group did in the morning) but when I set out after another hour typing up my blog in the hotel lobby I fail to find the entrance. Instead, I just roam around on my own, walking along the little streets and peeking into the smaller temples instead of the big ones. Again, people are very friendly and in these mostly narrow streets between the monks’ homes I see very few tourists. I’m taking lots of pictures, going into courtyards where I’m allowed (or beating a hasty retreat when I stumble into ones where I’m not).
At one temple courtyard I momentarily step outside into the shade of the gate to put a new film in my camera. An old man, having just delivered something, steps out just behind me to get on his bike parked in front of the steps but suddenly stops when he notices my camera and wants to hold it, almost grabbing it out of my hands. “Wait,” I say, I still have to finish putting the film in; then I hold the camera in front of his eyes. He peers through it, grumbling a bit — it takes a while for me to realize the lens cap is still on. When I take it off, a big smile appears on his face. Now his fingers are looking for the button: he actually wants to take a picture! Well, why not, I think, and gently guide his finger; he aims carefully, and presses. Now he’s laughing aloud of pure pleasure, pointing into the street where a motorbike is parked, two men beside it: that’s what he took a picture of! The men never noticed the little scene on the steps of the temple. Still chuckling, the old man thanks me, we laugh together and I thank him in turn, and he rides away on his bike. Then a young girl, having watched the whole scene from the side steps up to me and asks if she can have a look, too. Of course. That gains me another big smile; she thanks me politely, and disappears into the temple courtyard.
Tuesday 2007-04-10 - Al Hajarayn, Yemen
Horseshoe town
Further into Wadi Do’an we make another stop: at the other side of the valley we see a town halfway up the mountain, curving round the promontory in a horseshoe shape: Al Hajarayn. After we take pictures from this side of the valley, from where we can see how beautifully the village almost merges into the mountain, the cars bring us into the village where we can walk along its narrow streets; we’ll be picked up on the other side.
Although the houses are the usual Yemeni tower dwellings here, too, it’s completely different from Shibam. Again, I see many beautiful doors (I can’t stop photographing doors here in Yemen!). But, possibly because of how the town is such an organic whole with the mountain, and how it curves around it, we manage to get lost a little, not knowing whether to walk on, or where to go down - or where, in fact, our cars are going to pick us up again. Luckily the people are very friendly and some guide us to the right street, down many steps to the foot of the mountain. Then we walk along a dirt road through the fields, and are relieved to see our cars waiting for us at the road!
Thursday 2007-04-12 - Al Mukalla, Yemen
“Mumkin?”
I’m getting up early today: after visiting the old town of Al Mukalla yesterday, I want to see some more of the new town today before we leave - we only had a glimpse yesterday when we arrived. As soon as it gets light I go out and walk along the sea-side boulevard in the direction of the new town. Sooner than expected, I see the old Sultan’s Palace which marks the end of the old town. A little farther on, the road goes over a bridge across a sea arm that goes right into the town; a nice boulevard is on each side, and there are several pedestrian bridges across it. There is even a fountain (spouting sea water!) in the middle. I go and sit on one of the benches that for now are still in the shade, and just watch — it’s a very pleasant area — enjoying one of the few moments of relaxation during this trip.
I’ve been picking up some useful phrases of Yemeni Arabic (partly with the help of my little language guide) — simple things like la (no), aiwa (yes), shukran (thank you), some greetings. Another useful phrase is mumkin sura? (may I take a picture?) — sura means picture, mumkin? a general “may I…?”: one doesn’t just take a picture of people here in Yemen — especially not of women — but asking politely often gets permission, at least from men and small children. With women it’s more complicated: even if they give permission (rarely), the husband may not allow it and you can’t take the picture anyway or the woman may get into trouble with her husband; the other way round happens, too: a woman saying no while her husband say yes — in which case of course you respect the woman’s wishes.
Now, while I sit on the bench watching the fountain and the pedestrian bridge a little farther away, in the sun by now, as the sun slowly rises above the mountain, two women come walking along the boulevard, cheerfully saying “Hello!” to me (in English). When they’re 30m past me, they suddenly stop; one of them makes a “photo” gesture in front of her eyes and asks: “Mumkin?” It takes a second or two before it sinks in that she is asking me to have her picture taken. But of course! Quickly, they come walking back, and the woman crouches half in front of me and quickly takes off her niqab, revealing a friendly face with very beautiful brown eyes. The light on her face is just right. When I show her the portrait, she’s quite happy, and thanks me with her hand on her heart — quickly flipping her niqab back again: a man is approaching us.
Sometimes I wonder: why are people asking to have their picture taken while not asking to have it sent to them? With children, it must be the excitement of the procedure and of seeing their own face on the magic little box. But grown-ups — just so they’ll know they’ll be remembered? I’ll certainly remember this friendly young woman with the beautiful eyes in Al Mukalla. Such a pity we can’t chat.
Friday 2009-05-15 - Amsterdam, the Netherlands
Panic mode
I'm spending the day packing — I've almost never been so late packing, and this has various reasons. A minor reason is that I've been "under the weather" for a week or so, so I'm running a week late now. Of course, our plane does't leave later, so I'm trying to squeeze two weeks into one, which means chronic lack of sleep and still too little time.
A more important reason is that I'm also working on starting up with my own web development business, and that's a lot of work. Trying to combine that with preparing for a five-week trip was … interesting. It would not have been a major problem, if only…
If only I'd not decided to handle updating my travel blog a little differently, by using a netbook to directly type my notes during the day, so I don't have to write everything three times (first in a little notebook, then write it out as a story, then type it all in (while watching the clock) in an Internet cafe on an unfamiliar keyboard. And if only I'd not decided that I wanted a lighter camera for travel, and a digital one at that. And if only my new bank hadn't had a special offer for a mobile phone account with a good discount — with phone if you wanted it — and I wanted a different (mobile) phone for my nascent company; and the phone I got has GPS built-in, so If I'd take that I could leave my separate GPS home. The upshot was that I ended up with a lot of new hardware, all somehow intended to make traveling, blogging and taking photographs easier and lighter… but all of that needed to be tested, set up, practiced with, and even connected together.
Still, this week I finally managed to prepare the blog with the itinerary for the coming trip, and now I'm typing this on my netbook, and in a bit will send it on its way to see if the email interface to update the blog still functions nicely (and I haven't forgotten how to use it). So, here goes. And then back to packing!
Tuesday 2009-05-19 - Khuzestan, Iran
Petroglyphs
Around Izeh, in the The Natural-Historical Landscape of Izeh (on Iran’s “tentative list” of World Heritage sites), we admire Elamite petroglyphs at two different sites: Narsi Na (Koul Farah) and Tarisha (Ashkoft Salman). Amazingly hardly any tourist comes here, but the location is away from a little-traveled road and a long distance from Esfahān. At the second site we’re guided by a local herder who guided scientists exploring this site many years ago. Although it’s little-known, there is a lot to see, and even though the reliefs are partly badly damaged by erosion (rain, probably acid rain) they are quite impressive. We can see lines of people offering gifts to the king, quite similar to the scenes depicted at Persepolis.
Unfortunately I´m stuck partway through with an empty camera battery, with the backup far away in the bus — there´s no time to walk back and up to the rocks again.
