Swiss Spring

A few of my most treasured photographs that deserve to be shared with the world. The hills were so alive. 

Video: Je ne sais pas

Finally after somewhat mastering my new video editing software, I have pulled together my footage from my week in Paris. It is certainly the city of lights, the city of love and the city of the pastries. Okay, perhaps the last one isn't its official title but it very well should be. You may need to change the setting quality to 720hd to really enjoy the scenery of Paris and its surrounds. More travel diaries will be rolling in soon. 

Flower Power

Most people sleep in on Sundays, but not me and not the avid market go-ers down Columbia Road. I was ready to prove to Jason that Columbia Road's Flower Market was worth waking up a mere four hours following a forced sleep for (we had just touched down in London). And after booking an Uber using our apartment's wifi and then running across the landing, into the lift and down the steps of Nell Gwynn, I was ready to make it a weekend ritual. Oh, but to be able to live in London to do that.

I have written a brief description of the market and its conception, of which was posted after thinking of the morning I spent at the Borough Market and some ridiculous scotch eggs. Speaking of ridiculous, the colours that flooded Columbia Road were just that. The prices were too. With flowers being four pound for a bunch (before taking into account the AUD conversion) I was incredibly tempted to purchase a few to put in tall drinking glasses on the table next to the window in our apartment. If only prices for good quality, fresh and beautiful flowers were comparable here in Perth. $4 for a bunch of tulips that look like they would last a month? Yes please. Even after conversion, they still prove to be cheap.

The atmosphere itself is fantastic to experience. Walking up and down the road I picked up tips on how to provide flower day-care, advice on pruning and caught the ends of chatter. Flowers are not the only thing sold in abundance, so too were vegetables and herbs. But of course I was preoccupied with the florals as the species, colours and sizes couldn't be ignored. Dogs accompanied owners in the rain and people darted in and out of cafes at the end of the road while sellers yelled out cheerful greetings. It was a recipe for a perfect Sunday and I highly recommend visiting when in London's east. 

Safe to say I proved my case to Jason. Even he was impressed and he never so much as bats an eyelid at the mention of flowers.

Onto greener pastures

Who am I to deny you photographs of little town houses, rolling mountains and grass greener than the idioms ever professed it to really be?

All photographs were taken from the train from Interlaken to Lucerne, where all roads lead to mountains. I apologise for any blurriness - it was a moving train after all. 

The road home

It has been a blur of days. I've been constantly asked which city was my favourite and I'm failing in trying to figure out the answer to that. I'm still processing it all. It's been overwhelming to describe the experience and to pinpoint what it is that I most loved - or even which city. However, vehement in my memory are the long days of sunshine - how the sun didn't set until nine at night, baguettes sticking out of grocery bags in Paris, the smell of rain that seeped through the windows in London and the crystal clear waters of Lucerne. 

The above shots were taken on my last night in Paris before the long haul home. They are snaps of the streets and places around our apartment we called home for a week in the first arrondissement, captured just after golden hour and into dusk. More to come.

The National Gallery

In the centre of London, behind marble pillars and an imposing but impressive structure sits an ever expansive collection of over two thousand and three hundred works which span from the 13th Century through to early 20th Century paintings. 

On teal walls and those with sheets of wallpaper hang a collection of works on barely there pins and wire. Visitors sit for hours on the benches, shifting from room to room to view the folds in robes adorned on figureheads and to observe the rolling mountains in backgrounds painted in oil bases.

Notable artists include Georges Seurat, Henri Rousseau, Hans Holbein, Paul Cezanne, Claude Monet, Rembrandt and Vincent Van Gogh. You can borrow an audio guide from the main foyer in order to enrich your experience - of which provides another layer of history and information supporting the art hanging on the walls. 

It's a place to reflect on artworks where colours and tones are layered with hard work, colour and presence. With free admission and extended opening hours it is hard to pass up the opportunity to waste the day away in each of the rooms of The National.