Che Guevaras influence shows everywhere, this time in Camag?ay, Cuba
red n.
The hue of the long-wave end of the visible spectrum, evoked in the human observer by radiant energy with wavelengths of approximately 630 to 750 nanometers; any of a group of colors that may vary in lightness and saturation and whose hue resembles that of blood; one of the additive or light primaries; one of the psychological primary hues.
I score points for it being in a Communist country (2a) and containing a poster of Che Guevara (2b) if not for the quality of the picture itself.
I like the way the old, colonial building is colourful and well maintained while the Communist-era building looks drab but has the heroic poster adorning it.
Last year I went on a walking holiday in France with two friends. We started in Nice, got the train to Sospel and then walked to the coast at Menton. Between them we saw some beautiful scenery, drank some lovely wine and ate fantastic food. I can’t share the alcohol or steak, but you can see the pictures…
We started the week in Nice. I’d heard great things about the place but, on the whole, I wasn’t terribly impressed. I’ll be positive and say this is probably because they were digging the whole town up to install a new tram system, or because we didn’t spend very much time there. Anyway, this means that there are no decent pictures.
View of Sospel from our hotel, France
View of Breil-sur-Roya, France
Pi?ne Haute, France
On the way back to Sospel, France
Lunchtime stop on the way to Menton, France
View over Menton, France
Menton, France
Menton waterfront, France
Menton, France
Monaco
So we got the train on to Sospel, a small town at the bottom of the Alps. The town itself was at the bottom of the valley but our hotel was half way up. This was a tiring walk, especially carrying bags, but the view was worth it. M even got a view of the valley. Me and P were less lucky getting the awe-inspiring view of a small hut.
The next day we took a quick train journey down the valley and headed back to Sospel. The walk started in a pretty, small town called Breil-sur-Roya and headed out up into the nearby hills. After days of a sedentary life-style, then a day on a plane and train, suddenly walking uphill came as a bit of a shock. However looking back over the town between heavy breaths made it worthwhile.
The walk continued up and down over hills and through valleys (but mainly up hills). It was a warm day and come lunch time we were hot and tired. Luckily there was a shady square in Pi?ne Haute, one of the towns en route. We stopped for a bite to eat and to sleep on benches for a while.
The afternoon continued in pretty much the same vein, but gradually leveled out as we made the final approach to Sospel. It was a bit cruel really as we still had to climb up back to our hotel! Luckily this was a holiday, so we were in no rush. We stopped in the town for an ice-cream and hoped that our leg muscles wouldn’t seize up while we ate.
The next day was the biggie, in the sense that it gave the whole holiday its name! It was then that we left Sospel and walked all the way to the coast. Okay, we cheated a little. We got a taxi a short way to the start of the walk (up a big hill and round the corner) but we did do most of it!
We knew that this was going to be a long day. Not only had we tired ourselves out on the previous day, but this was a longer walk. (I won’t say how long as you’ll just realise how unfit we all were.) The day starts off on a long, slight incline but it doesn’t take long before we’re heading up the side of serious hill.
P’s strategy on the flat is to walk a pace or two ahead of his colleagues, thereby giving the impression that he’s walking faster than everyone else. For this hill he took a new strategy. He decides that the best way is to sprint up as far and fast as he can until his lungs were on the verge of collapse and then stop and wait for us. M makes the mistake of trying to keep up and is continually going fast, getting out of breath and slowing right down to recover. I take to a steady slog.
It’s tiring for us all but we make pretty good time and are still ahead of the suggested itinerary in the book, even with the impromptu lung-transplant en route.
This is the worst “up” part for the day. The rest of the morning is spent going up and down smaller inclines. The sun eventually burns away the morning mist and after a while we realise that we can see the Mediterranean.
We reach a large clearing around noon and decide to stop for lunch. Some dark clouds that have been massing since early morning are starting to look particularly oppressive and we fear that we’re going to get drenched. None of us are really prepared for heavy rain. A bare tree looks eerie against the dark sky.
But we’re lucky. There are a few spots of rain just as we’re eating our sandwiches. After that it still dark but it’s fine.
Most of the rest of the afternoon is heading down hill towards the coast. Anyone that tells you that downhill is easier that uphill clearly hasn’t done much walking. The paths are harsh, unyielding tarmac and very steep for the early part of the afternoon and my knees quickly begin to ache.
We rest regularly and even pop over the border into Italy at one point. The last and in some ways hardest part of the day was walking across town to our hotel. All our energies had been spent on climbing and descending hills and I don’t think any of us were expecting the cross-town part to be quite so long.
The hotel is pretty decent when we arrive. It’s right on the sea front and only about 500m from the Italian border. We shower and collapse (not necessarily in that order) and eventually hit the town for dinner.
Menton is not a huge town. It’s long and thin, with the Mediterranean on one side and a stack of hotels and houses rising quickly into the hills on the other. There is an impressively large marina with some equally impressive yachts glinting in the sun. The strip of sand that stretches East into Italy was heavily populated much of the time. The main shopping strip has the usual array of restaurants and gift shops. Menton is quite pretty and clean, but is clearly heavily geared towards tourists.
On our last full day we decided to leave the undeniable attractions of the South of France and move up-market. Monaco was just a short train-ride away and, we figured, a good way of passing a few hours.
The first thing we noticed about Monaco was the size of the train station. The platform is about twice as long as the train. We suggest another train line from the tracks to the station exit to no-one in particular. There are building works right outside the station, so first impressions are not great.
Wandering up into the old town, we see a lot to indicate the vast wealth of this tiny principality. The marina here is huge and is crammed with very expensive looking yachts; the streets are immaculately clean and all the buildings are well maintained; and every car is shiny, new and has a high chance of being German. It does not, however, ooze with character or charm. Even if I somehow became super-rich I think I would still choose to pay my taxes and live elsewhere.
(On a more sombre note, our trip to Monaco was on the 7th July which, as anyone who lives in London will tell you, was a good day to be on holiday. The first I knew how serious it was when my sister rang me on my mobile. She never rings!)
We have a rather tense last meal back in Menton as M insists on dining in a fish restaurant despite the fact that I’m allergic to some and dislike all other sea-food. I only narrowly avoid killing her when she announces that the first of her main courses is not good. Instead I sulk with the one non-fish dish on the menu.
On the final day we have a vaguely leisurely start and head on the train back to Nice, then on a plane back to Heathrow. So overall, a great holiday. Over with far too quickly, but then aren’t they always?
Well, we did the “between our birthdays” trip to Winchester so it was only right that we did something near the real thing too. Plan “A” was to be Bath but for reasons that I now forget we ended up heading up the East Coast Main Line to York. It’s only an hour or so from my parents place and it’s a city that I’d been to a number of times previously but not in the last ten years.
Although I don’t know the geography of York very well, it’s easy to find your way to the biggest site. The Minster is visible from almost anywhere in the city and, arriving at the time we did, looked amazing bathed in late afternoon light.
York is not a large city. Most of the main areas of interest are inside the city walls and are, therefore, near the Minster. Also near the Minster are a large number of cafes, one of which we dove into to get something to eat. It’s late and we’ve not had anything since breakfast!
Next stop after a refreshing cappuccino is The Shambles, a narrow, old street that used to be where all the butchers hung out. There’s not much evidence of that now and most shops sell various forms of tourist tat.
From here we wander back over the Ouse to the hotel. Realising that there are few remaining hours of daylight left we go back into town almost straight away. Rather than take the exact same route we hit the cities Roman walls.
We head pretty much all the way around, stopping to look at the Minster from all angles and well as finding some strange audio/visual exhibit in one of the bars (gates).
Another feature of the city are the street names. Whip Ma Whop Ma Gate is perhaps the longest name you’re likely to find on such a short street. In fact they had to lengthen the street just to accommodate the sign. Actually I made that bit up. We also found Mad Alice Lane (subsequently renamed Lund’s Court, which isn’t nearly as interesting).
There are also a lot of bars. I was disappointed when I eventually found out that these are just gates to the city and do not serve alcohol. All the “gates” in the town are just streets, after the Viking word. Very confusing.
The plan for Sunday was to meet my family in the afternoon, which left the morning for us to fill. After breakfast we headed into town and stopped off in the Yorkshire Museum Gardens. We found St Mary’s there, looking amazing in the early morning light. It’ll be really nice when they finish it. (Sorry, the old ones are the best, no?)
Overall, a great weekend. Looking forward to heading back to Yorkshire again soon.
As many of you will already know, I recently came back from a trip to Vietnam. Some will even have seen the pictures. Others, however, do not like looking at pictures on a computer screen and always insist that I get prints. This time I decided to go one better and get a book.
Those still wallowing in the PC world may not be aware of a Macintosh application called iPhoto. It’s a bit like Adobe Photoshop Album if you’re familiar with that. It allows you to catalogue photos, categorise and label them and perform some minor edits such as red-eye removal, cropping and simple colour adjustment, although I normally use Photoshop for this kind of thing. I mention it here as one extra feature that I’ve never used before was its ability to make custom books. I normally use Photobox for my prints but this seemed like a much easier option.
I’m pleased to report that it was simple to do. I selected the book size and template and iPhoto automatically distributed the images in the book. I picked the “Travel” theme which is on the good side of slightly tacky. Then I added and subtracted a few, changed the order and altered the layouts, putting my favourite pictures on their own page and sequences of shots on a spread. I also wrote an introductory text for the first page. They allow the pictures in a variety of formats: a single shot taking the whole page, with borders and a number of different pictures per page. I think I used all of the various formats in the book at some point and they all work well.
It was all drag and drop (except for the typing!), just working as you’d expect with no need for a manual or even the on-line help. The first surprise was when I tried to order it. Firstly there were more pages than the default. It must have automatically created enough pages to show all the pictures, which is fair enough but I was a little shocked when I saw a higher price than I was expecting. And secondly I found that I had to enable One-Click ordering. I don’t like to have that switched on normally ? I like to be inconvenienced a little when there’s impulse buying ? to be done!
It took about a week to be delivered. First impressions are good, it is well packaged, appears to be nicely bound, and the cover has a hole in it revealing the title page. In my case this is a slightly Photoshopped sign I took (“Welcome to Vietnam”) and a small picture of myself. Opening up the book I find the introduction text. It’s clear and sharp, unlike my writing, but I note that they’ve not changed the quotes into “smart quotes,” which is a little un-Apple-like in the sense that it’s a small addition that would make it look that little bit more professional.
I confess that my most serious criticism is one that most people slowly nod their head and agree to in a patronising and not entirely convincing manner. Despite the gorgeous presentation, I feel that the image quality is not especially good. It’s not shockingly bad ? as we can see from the response of other people to my comment ? but it lacks adequate resolution and looks to be dithered. The colours also appear to be aiming for saturation at the expense of realism although this may, to some extent, be affected by the resolution.
In Apple’s defence I would say that they have a difficult balance to strike. Even at the resolution they used the book, which included just over forty images, was in excess of a 20Mb upload which takes some time even on my ADSL link. By contrast prints I get individually are normally between two and four megabytes each. Plus this is their consumer application. Maybe Aperture or iPhoto6 performs better in this regard?
But overall I am impressed. The book was quick and easy to create, the order was processed and delivered reasonably quickly and the quality is more than adequate for its intended audience. A definite thumbs up and I am very likely to do the same thing again next time I return from a holiday.
So that you can believe what you see, I just wanted to talk you through the process I go through to get some beautiful parts of the world conveniently into your web browser.
It starts with a camera…
I have three cameras, two of them being traditional film-based models and the last one a digital.
The oldest images (pre-2001) were taken on a Canon Sureshot 70 Zoom. It has automatic-just-about-everything and a 35-70mm zoom lens. I have two SLR bodies which, with the exception of EF-S glass, I can use the same lenses on both machines. The first is a Canon EOS300, the second is a Digital Rebel, known in the UK as an EOS300D.
Both film camera use standard 35mm film. (APS is more expensive and lower quality; doesn’t sound like a winning formula to me.) All of the pictures taken on the Sureshot have been taken on Kodak Gold (ISO400) film and processed in a normal mini-lab. I’ve used a wider variety of film in the EOS and the type used is generally noted on the relevant page. Except for low-light shots, I always use ISO100 with the digital.
And then we go digital…
I have two scanners: a flat-bed and a film scanner.
I’ve had the flat-bed for a while and all the early content has been digitised using this machine. It was described by John Lewis as “end of the line” and not suitable for colour pictures, but I saw the price and figured that I had nothing to lose! It only scans reflective material, so I’ve had to scan prints, even when I’ve been using slide film. I scan at 300dpi in 24-bit colour (the scanner works at 30-bit). For 7.5×5 prints, this results in images around 2200×1400 pixels and, invariably, bad colours.
I got bored adjusting the colours eventually and finally decided on a Minolta Scan Dual II, a slide scanner. This one works at 2820dpi which results in images 3840×2514 pixels. But the main distinguishing feature is the much better colour.
Once I’ve scanned all the pictures in I tend to archive them all to CD. I save them in PNG format (losslessly compressed, unlike JPEG) and also a directory of smaller images and thumbnails. The smaller images are used on this website, too.
The last step is to create some captions for the images. I’ve been through a number of schemes, but the one I’ve settled on at the moment is Brendt Wohlberg’s PhotoML, an XML image description DTD. It’s very thorough (far more so than I require in fact) and comes highly recommended. Have a look here if you’re interested: PhotoML Website. I’ve been using Apple’s iPhoto for the pure digital pictures so far, but that might change once I’ve played around with it a bit longer.
You’ll notice that I don’t talk about image manipulation, and there is a good reason for that. The only Photoshop-style wizardry going on here is the adjustment of contrast, levels, orientation and the removal of scratches, dust or other imperfections on the film.
The way I saw it, Cuba had to be visited before Castro dies. And then, two days before I fly, I see headlines in the Evening Standard: Castro has fallen and has been hospitalised. Did I get the timing wrong?
No it turns out. He’s still alive and well, locals still talk about him with a hushed reverence normally reserved for religious leaders. The other bonus of arriving in late October is that the flood of winter tourists has yet to start and it’s still in the high twenties.
Overall it’s very varied. We covered quite a distance, everything from the grandeur and squalor of Havana, to the colonial delights of Trinidad to sleeping outside a hacienda half way up a mountain in the South East and the limestone pillars in the West. Exhausting but worth it.
Havana is one of those cities with shady squares and twisty back-street that you can happily aimlessly wander around for hours. Those 50s American cars you see in the pictures really are there, although once inside you realise that the romantic imagery doesn’t quite match up to the practicalities (they’re noisy and uncomfortable).
The smaller towns were more aesthetically consistent and the locals more friendly. It was difficult going for a drink without finding yourself being dragged onto the dance floor. They just don’t believe you when you say you can’t Salsa…
In the mountains we saw Fidel and Che Guevara’s hide-away and a spike shoved up a pigs bum for our spit-roasted dinner. In Viñales we saw limestone columns, red-clay soil and tobacco growing in the fields.
Click the small pictures below for a full size version. All the full size pictures are optimised for a 1024×768 display and are in 24-bit colour. All images are copyright and my permission is required for any use.
Plaza de la Catedral, Habana Vieja
Old American cars, Habana Vieja
A street scene, Habana Vieja
A narrow street in Habana Vieja
Hotel in central Havana
Plane outside Bay of Pigs (Bahia de Cochinos) museum, Cuba
Inside a colonial house, Trinidad, Cuba
Trinidad street, Cuba
Cigar factory, Trinidad
Girls chat in the street, Trinidad, Cuba
Che Guevaras influence shows everywhere, this time in Camag?ay, Cuba
Old American cars in Santiago de Cuba
Che Guevara statue in Santa Clara
Vi?ales, Cuba
All pictures here have been taken on my EOS300D with the 18-55mm lens. Many of the outdoor pictures were taken using a polarising filter. If anyone currently in Cuba finds my skylight filter can then please return it!
If the pictures have piqued your interest, there are a few resources that you might want to have a look out for:
Switching allegiances this time, I bought the Rough Guide to Cuba. While having less pictures, the text was significantly more detailed.
I only found the Cuba Portal on my return but it has lots of information on places that I visted.
Photography, opinions and other random ramblings by Stephen Darlington
