Showing posts with label Belgium. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Belgium. Show all posts

Friday, July 21, 2017

Remembrances

Today marks our last week in Europe. One week from this morning we will begin our last day here, a morning, afternoon, and night. Then the next day this will all be over, we'll tidy the house one last time, load the baggage in a rental car, pack the cats up in their carriers, and board a plane out of Frankfurt for the last time. The end.

These last couple of weeks have been kind of rough. Everything is all set for us in the US; we have a house, phone numbers, utility accounts, etc. Extracting ourselves from Germany has been less simple, frustrating even. It's like at the end of a movie, when the last lines of the credits disappear at the top of the screen and the house lights come on. There's no point in sitting in the theater any longer, the magic is over and it's time to go home. Trouble is, we're still stuck here, with few belongings in a house that no longer feels remotely like home amongst people we feel no connection with. The days are punctuated by one move out crisis after another- the landlord refuses to cooperate on a meeting time, the painter needs to make an estimate, the people coming to buy our appliances have changed their minds. The in between time is hours reading and watching Netflix on an air mattress in a house darkened against the summer heat, a place of limbo. The Company said we had to stay until the end of July, so that's what we're doing.

But, this is also a time for remembrance, a chance to look back at the highlights of this experience, jot them down, and honor the moments and places that have made all the frustrations worth it. So, over this last week I'm going to dust off my notes, dig through my photo archives, and share some of my favorite places and memories with you. I'll cover a different place each day over on my Instagram account, but I'll present them all at once for you here in this post. Without further ado, here are the highlights of the last 5.5 years:


Norway: Bridge to Another World

The first time I left the United States I went to Norway. As soon as I returned, I wanted to go back. Norway sparked a love for travel that I've never been able to shake. When I finally did return in 2015, it was just as I remembered. It is a land of fast waters, lofty mountains, deep valleys that plunge into  bright blue fjords, hillsides dotted with red barns, cliff sides dotted with turf roofed cabins, a place the sun never really sets in summer, and a country filled with cheerful, kind, and beautiful people. It started it all for me, it was a bridge to another world and another life. Going back opened the imagination even further. The road through the Jotunheim was just as stunning as I remembered. The waters were just as clear. The fogs were just as mysterious. Norway will stay with me the rest of my life, as all things that change our lives do.

Moments from Norway I don't want to forget: walking in Otta after midnight because we could, getting our butts kicked by Grandma Badass hiking the Vidden trail, Diam in the ice cream, cheese filled/bacon wrapped/fried onion topped hotdogs on a ferry, getting our precious Kvikk Lunsj bars stolen by seagulls in Odda, the longest tunnel in the world (at the time) with those blue caves along the way, dinner from a gas station, the Fram, the smoky smell of stave churches.


Lisbon: Best Kept Secret

We went to Lisbon to escape the chilly atmosphere of Germany and because all those tiles looked incredible. We ended up in awe of its soul. I have never been in a city like Lisbon before. It is stunningly beautiful, of course. The architecture, the people, and the very streets themselves were an endless photographic journey. The food was a revelation. Lisbon has all the things that make a great European capital worth a visit, but it has something that no other city on this continent has: the Lisboetas themselves. Never once in all these years have we entered a city  inhabited by such warm and wonderful people. Coming from Germany, the climate and food were shock enough, but the locals' hospitality and kindness hit us like a splash of cold water on a hot day. From waiters, to shop keepers, to doctors, to people we passed on the street, they were all overwhelmingly kind and gracious. We never felt as welcome in a city as we did in Lisbon, it was absolutely gut wrenching to leave. If anyone asks me what is the best place in Europe to visit that few people ever go to I will always answer Lisbon. Be warned, however, you may not want to leave either.

Moments from Lisbon I don't want to forget: that first pastel de nata, sunsets from mirados, vinho verde, watching a soccer game in the park, lunch in the market, watching the day end at Belem Tower during that rock music festival, the kid with the water, "Santa Maria!", the emergency room, getting my sight back, ginja in the little chocolate cups, music coming from somewhere every night.


Belgium: Dear Kindred Spirit

Oh, Belgium, Belgium, you weird, wonderful mess, you. Belgium was our refuge for many years while we lived in Luxembourg. It was a place of misty forests, bike races, amazing beer, bizarre encounters; a place where the unexpected should always be expected. It was a country where we had our worst travel disappointments and favorite little revelations.  I think I love Belgium, both halfs, because it reminds me of where I'm from. Except for the microcosm of Brussels, a bustling international city, Belgium feels slightly trapped in another time and slightly left behind. The roads are full of holes, abandoned homes and factories fill the towns and cities, the population is mostly working class, the countryside feels wild and untamed, the majority of cities are past their prime, slow moving canals run along old streets- some reeking of the garbage floating on  their surfaces. The bars in small towns are inhabited by silent old cantankerous men who suspiciously eye  you over Jupiler beer. The cities are layered in generations of grime and all the other tattered trappings of failing modern societies. But, if you spend a little more time there and peer around the corners, you'll find an  art market in a small warehouse, jazz clubs down alleys,  small independent theaters, craft breweries,  and on occasion someone playing Brahms on a piano at midnight in a city square. Sure, Belgium may seem like it's dying a slow death, but under the surface it is very much still alive and kicking, just like the "Rust Belt" back home. I recognize Akron, Cleveland, Youngstown, and Toledo in Ghent, Liege, Arlon, and Antwerp. They were comforting and familiar, and could be a marvel if you let them, just like my hometown.

Moments from Belgium I don't want to forget: every single bike race we got to watch from its roadsides, paper cones of golden frites with mayonnaise, renting that guy's  basement in Spa to go cycling only to have every road closed for a rally car race, having Kwaak in the proper glass for the first time, buying cheese at Orval, peering over walls in Rochefort, talking with the Estonian diplomats during the Brussels beer festival, every single night in Ghent, gnomes around Houfflaize, the brothel run by the 12 year old Chinese kid in St. Hubert, every single meal at L'Ancienne Hopital, cycling to Bruges, trying to rent a van in Liege, sugar waffles, pralines, buying more beer than we could ever hope to finish.


Italy: Land of Light and Life

We could always count on Italy to come through, no matter where in it we ended up. It was always as beautiful, exciting, and as fun as we hoped it would be. It was  easy to kick back and enjoy life in. Rome floored us with the weight of its legacy and countless layers of history. Congested and chaotic it wrapped us up in blankets of memory. Rome has always been and will always be. Florence, hurried and gilded kept us at a distance, but little Lucca made up for all the bustle with its peaceful squares, and hidden alleys. Countless villages passed on back road routes were pulled from postcards. Then, there was Venice. Venice was a tapestry, the light was ethereal, the sounds muffled, the pace slow and yet still hectic. It was a pleasure to photograph and I only scratched the surface of possibility. But, most special was little Sorico on the shores of Lake Como, a haven, a refuge from the world and home to some of the nicest people we've ever met. And, of course, Italian food is the best in the world, from toe to calf the eating is incredible all along the boot. Despite what the French might say, the Italians have mastered food and wine and coffee. The rest of us are just trying to catch up.  

Moments from Italy I don't want to forget: getting off the highway somewhere on the way to Florence and getting sorta kinda lost, gelato every day, pizza on park benches, cannoli in Rome, learning to love wine again,  freezing for dawn photos in Venice, Christmas in Venice (for crying out loud), having St. Paul's to ourselves, realizing Fernet Branca sounds cooler in the Dark Knight script than it tastes in real life, all the flowers, appreciating the Italians' gift for the public argument, that cafe for fisherman in Burano, dawn at the Spanish Steps, naps in the heat of the day, finding abandoned palaces in the hills, the tunnels, Madonna del Ghisallo, Fausto Coppi's hometown, discovering the moka pot, dawn arriving over the Forum, afternoon thunderstorms, every single meal Mama Angela made and her tiramisu too.


Iceland: Be Still My Heart

Several people I know have visited Iceland this year, and I'm thrilled they did. It's one of those places that has to be seen to be believed. Even after seeing it, you may not believe it. There's a reason Iceland stands in for other planets in the movies. You could almost swear it was. Even now I can't quite put the place into words. I believe Scandinavia is one of the most beautiful regions on earth, and Iceland is  most certainly the jewel in its crown. There are waterfalls that create  rainbows, basalt columns rising out of the earth, black sand beaches, moss covered fields of lava, glaciers miles deep with chapels carved out of them, and its  capital city is a place covered in color. And, then  in the winter there is this incredible nightly show that cannot be matched by anything else  created in  nature or created by man. It is a place so incredible it catches your breath. Your heart skips a beat. If any spot on earth could light  a passion of love for this planet it is Iceland. If you haven't been, go. Go now.

Moments I don't want to forget from Iceland: super Jeeps everywhere, discussing the pros and cons of  eco tourism with a couple of Poles and our Icelandic guide, that trip up the Jokulsarlon glacier and then going into it, really expensive but delicious IPAs, that bar that was only playing old MTV music videos, dinners at gas stations, little hairy ponies running alongside the bus, a beach of ice sculptures, the Viking longhouse under our hotel, seals playing in the lagoon, almost getting blown away in  the wind, using crampons, all too brief days, risking frostbite because I couldn't stop watching and photographing those waves and waves of color and light.


Ireland: Balm for the Soul

Ireland was the hardest to leave, the one place I could honestly see staying in forever. There's no way we would have ever stayed in Luxembourg or Germany for the long term. We and our expat bases  couldn't make it together forever, we're too different. But, Ireland felt that it could be home. Why? Sure, it helps that we could speak the language for a change, and yes, that scenery is so beautiful it almost hurts. But, like Lisbon, it was the people that pulled us in. The Irish are a special people, they're open, real, and welcoming. You can walk into a restaurant or a bar and there's no staring or silent judgement, they smile and talk to you like you belong there. That's one of the main things that I miss about home in Ohio, friendly people up for a chat. Keep in mind, I'm an introvert, so missing random conversation is really saying something. Being in Ireland was a balm for the soul. On top of being genuinely lovely folks, they were pretty fantastic cooks and musicians too. And, then there were those green rolling hills, misty evenings, flash rain falls, wildflowers, ruins, and sheep. If ever I disappear, look in Ireland first.

Moments I don't want to forget from Ireland: reuniting over crab claws and pints with a friend and spending time with her family, getting a little lost in Dublin, staying in the famine cottage outside of Cahersiveen, the solstice at the ring fort, talking basketball and LeBron James at Mike Murts, talking/coping with  Brexit with the guide at Tullamore D.E.W.,  live music and spilled  pints in  Doolin, learning about whiskey from the old guy at the liquor store, seeing the Skelligs across the water, climbing up into the rain and over fences to find a wedge tomb, getting lost in the mountains and then having to wait for the cows to move so we could turn around, learning there's a better way to see the Cliffs of Moher, yelling "Hedge!", the Burren at sunrise, the sea wind off the coast, breaks in the clouds, flicking Trump off when we drove by his golf course, laughing with just about everyone we met, lunch at Tom Crean's amidst portraits of him,  Shackleton, and clippings about polar exploration, finally seeing Newgrange, feeling like (for once) we belonged.


Paris: City of Cities

There is nothing I can say about Paris that hasn't already been said. For those who have spent some time in Paris, the city is their own. Paris is our own, it is our Paris, not anyone elses. It's complicated, mystifying, intimidating, inspiring, pure white and yet dirty. It doesn't give itself up to you easily, you have to come back again and again to peel back the crafted surface to see its  insides. Then you come back again and it's the same but also completely different. Paris was our place, and we'll always have it, as the saying goes. I'm blessed to have stood beneath the Eiffel Tower in the middle of the night before terrorism made such an experience unattainable. We had our hotel and our cafe. We knew the city's rhythms for a while and that is good enough for me. You can't fully know Paris. In many ways it exists on its own plane. But, you can go and it will be there, different and unchanged. No city is like it, nothing could ever be.

Moments from Paris I don't want to forget: that last time at Cafe Central complete with absinthe and escargot, Hotel de Paris Invalides, the little studio we rented at Christmas with all the books on art, sunshine on the golden dome of Les Invalides, tangos spied on the banks of the Seine, choco pain and cappuccinos, that slap stick comedy routine we did on Rue Cler, the smell of the Metro, endless hours in flea markets, hot dogs in baguettes, the sewer museum, seeing Saint Chapelle for the first time, freezing under the bridge across from Notre Dame, knowing where everything was (for the most part), people watching in Gare d'Est, those stairs to that studio we rented at Christmas, Christmas in Paris (for heaven's sake), boat rides in the dark, the Eiffel Tower every night on the hour.


The Alps: Home to My Dreams

The Alps. They will always have my heart. It doesn't matter if they're the Swiss, the French, the Austrian, the German, or the Italian Alps. I love them. Ok, the ones in Switzerland may be my favorite. There are beach people and there are mountain people. I'm 100% a mountain person. Give me rocky peaks, snow, unpredictable weather, rolling mist, waterfalls, and deep and green valleys over sand, sea, and sunshine every single time. I want my landscape to scare me a little, keep me humble. I want a landscape I can't take my eyes off of.  The Alps are an  especially unique mountain range because people live there and have lived there for thousands of years. Walk down the trail a ways and you may find yourself in a town or at a hut with a micro brewery. It's a civilized but completely uncivilized place. The Alps are shockingly beautiful, comfortable, and terrifying.  I don't know if we will ever get to return to all these other places, but I deeply hope we will get to come back to the Alps someday. I will miss them dearly.

Moments from the Alps I don't want to forget: that horrible and wonderful climb up Legnone, making the turn into Lauterbrunnen for the first time, self serve cheese on the side of the road in Switzerland, Franks' place, that schnapps sampler, chicken fajitas, raclette for dinner four nights in a row, driving the switchbacks from Italy to Switzerland, meeting goats and marmots, watching climbers in Chamonix, hiking all day to beer, the traditional giant Toblerone bar every time, buying vignettes, hiking in the dark to watch the sun ignite the peak of the Matterhorn, cow bells, old men in felt hats, honor shops, the north face of the Eiger in all its glory, the crack of an avalanche high above.

What about Germany and Luxembourg, you ask? Well, those places deserve more than a blurb. I'll get to them in due time.

Then there are all the other moments in all the other places I don't want to forget either: tacos in Edinburgh, going to where they buried my ancestor's leg bone in Caen, saying hi to kings and queens and other important folks buried in Westminster, getting horribly ill on the beaches of Normandy, apocalyptic  weather in Barcelona, almost getting stuck in Bratislava, having disappointing cake in Vienna, midnight trains to Prague, finding THE picnic spot from To Catch A Thief and having chicken and beer there too, Eze, lavender fields, swimming in the Med with that octopus, ruin pubs in Budapest, "The foulest thing in the room!", Sunday roast dinners, Stonehenge, caipirinhas in Dresden, randomly driving through the town my paternal grandfather's people are from in Austria, walking into Austria that other time because it was right there, taking The Dog just about everywhere we could, calvados, meeting friends of friends in a Newcastle bar and getting trashed with them, staying in that old bakery near Valkenburg, going to the Tour de France, feeling the power of  the Arenburg Trench, eating the marrow because no one else would, cycling in Ærø, being kids at Legoland, a train ride from Scotland to England, and, and, and...

It sure has been fun!      

Thursday, February 18, 2016

Misadventures in Wallonia

So, last weekend we drove over to Belgium to celebrate the Valentines holiday (it's not really observed in Germany) and pick up some of Belgium's finest beer (also not celebrated in Germany as a rule).  But, because it is Belgium one must always expect things to go a bit awry.  The weather is the biggest factor which affects whether things go well or, um, go differently.  Belgian weather, either Walloon or Flemish, is notorious.  With that in mind, it seemed like this little jaunt was the perfect time to test a  XF 16-55mm f/2.8 R LM WR lens.  This is the only piece of Fuji gear I wanted to add to the kit this year.  A weather resistant camera is all well and good, but without a weather sealed lens, it's still a vulnerable setup.  With the trip to Iceland fast approaching it was time to fill in this last hole and a weekend in Belgium seemed like the perfect test.

The XF 16-55mm f/2.8 R LM WR is a really cool lens.  It's hefty, for sure, but with its nice range, it's difficult to argue for another lens in the bag anyway.  For a trip that mostly focuses on landscapes 16-55mm is all that's needed and if those landscapes are prone to cold and moisture, weather sealing is a must.  So, I stuck the X-T1 with the new lens in the bag and the  XF 55-200mm f/3.5-4.8 R LM OIS
just in case something specific in the landscape caught the eye.  

Well, all good plans of mice and photographers... Enter Belgium.  Now, we spent two years living down the road from the Ardennes.  Its fickle weather puts the weather of other places to shame.  Seriously, people from just about everywhere say "if you don't like the weather here, wait five minutes."  In Belgium, you not only need wait, but you can also drive 3 kilometers and be in a completely different situation.   

It all started out well enough.  We crossed the border into Belgium around lunch on Saturday after a very brief pause in Luxembourg to do some shopping (it's the only place I've been able to find molasses).  As we crossed into Wallonia the weather took an immediate dive into the worst.  Rolling over the hills of the Ardennes, we passed from pouring rain into sleet and then full blown snow and then back through the previous two when we'd lose elevation.  It was all very Belgian and authentic, but unfortunately far too blustery to photograph, the only reason being that we couldn't see a darn thing.  

Reprieve From the Toils Courtesy Handpresso
And, of course, being Belgium, it was no surprise to discover when we pulled into our beer shop's parking lot that they had shut for the week.  So, no crafts beer for us.  Sigh.  With nothing else to do, we headed on to our final destination for the weekend, the hunting town of Saint-Hubert.  The weather was getting progressively worse so we brainstormed on how we could salvage the errand.  Instead of setting up for wide landscapes of the Ardennes (which didn't appear to be present anymore) I was shooting close ups of our espressos on the dashboard as we paused at a rest stop.  I'm happy to report the new lens performs admirably in these conditions.  We opted to stop at the next Delhaize supermarket we came across to pick up a case of whatever unique beers they might have on hand.  That was quite the experience, the story of which I'll spare you at this time.  The feeling of trepidation rose the closer we came to Saint-Hubert.  While we weren't concerned about our dinner that evening (our favorite restaurant of all time never disappoints), the fact that we were forced to book a different hotel was starting to cause us some concern.

One of the hotel's finer specimens
Folks, you should always trust your gut.  I can't quite put my finger on the feeling we had when we stepped over the threshold of the "hotel" we had booked for the evening as it was a cross between amusement and horror.  You know that scene in Psycho (1960, or course) when Norman is talking to Marion Crane in his office and there's all these horrible taxidermy sculptures(?) all over the room?  Well, when production wrapped, I'm pretty sure the lot of stuffed animals was sold to the proprietor of this hotel where they have hung or sat on shelves ever since (never having been dusted or preserved in any way).  The fur was eaten away by time and whatever creatures eat dead animal fur, feathers were missing, the plastic eyes had fallen out or were positioned at disturbing angles.  The first of these horrors was a snarling fox that had been positioned in an anthropomorphic position that included a walking stick.  Stepping into the office we discovered more moth-eaten terrors and what seemed to be a hoarder's den.  Tools, magazines, books, papers, and Lord knows what were piled on every imaginable surface and some unimaginable ones.  It looks like most had been sitting there since the Reagan era.  This did not bode well, my friends, and the situation did not improve when we met the proprietor.  By all appearances "The Hotel By The Abbey" is operated by a boy of about 12 years of age.  He was very professional, despite his sweatpants and Crocs, and patient with our dusty French.  He gave us the key to room 11 and instructed us that any further questions should be directed at his Papa, who for all we knew was the lone patron at the restaurant.  Then the boy went back to tending the bar, yes, tending the bar.  As you can imagine Room 11 wasn't any better than the rest of the establishment.  Smokers could get all the nicotine they needed from the hazy atmosphere.  Something green and slimy that I believe guest starred in an episode of the X-Files (original run, of course) had taken up residence in the shower.  The bathroom was outfitted with fixtures and accessories one normally finds in a public restroom, complete with supplied sanitary paper for the toilet seat.  I half expected to find a condom dispenser hung inside the door.  By the way, every guest room in this hotel was equipped with a small orange light over the door that could be switched on from the inside.  Interpret that as you will.  Anyway...the long and short of it is, we were stuck.  There wasn't another available room in town and the only hotel with a free room was 15mi away.  This was just going to have to be something to laugh about in the future...if we made it to morning.  We deposited our locked suitcase in the room (and nothing else), stepped out our door and over the stain which suspiciously looked like evidence of the expiration of some poor guest or perhaps one of the moldering creatures on the wall, and headed back out into the gale.  Anything was better than this hotel.

We jumped back in the car and desperately drove around the countryside hoping the weather would clear or at the very least calm down enough to see the countryside.  No dice.  We had to accept defeat and return to blighted Saint-Hubert (for my Ohio readers, think Warren).  The only option left to us was a pub.  Now, if Wallonia is struggling in everything else, there is one thing you can always count on being reliable, albeit with the potential for mild creepiness. That is the pub.  Saint-Hubert is well supplied.  We opted for The Miami as it wasn't full of grumpy old men or seedy young ones and settled down for a nice session with some dearly missed Trappist Ales.  The great and wonderful thing about Belgium is that nearly every pub has Trappist beers on the list.  Things could definitely be worse.  These couple hours at the pub were the only time I decided to take out my camera on the trip, and you know what?  I'm totally ok with that.  The pub was by no means full, so it also provided the chance to test the updated Fujifilm remote camera app and the electronic shutter.  Fujifilm finally updated their remote app when they announced the X-Pro2 last month and for the first time I was able to get it to work.  Let me tell you, that app paired with the electronic shutter makes for a perfect clandestine operation (PIs, take note).  Leave the camera on a table and operate it with your phone, and no one will be the wiser.  In a quiet environment like a nearly empty pub, this is certainly a helpful set up.

Regulars at The Miami
Camera: X-T1 Focal Length: 50mm Exposure: 1/60, f/2.8, ISO4000

Pinball and Orval
Camera: X-T1 Focal Length: 16mm Exposure: 1/8, f/3.6, ISO4000

After we finished our beers (Rochefort 8) we could finally head to the restaurant for dinner.  Things certainly improved when we stepped in the door of L' Ancien Hopital and before long the woes of the day were fading away.  There is no better balm for a disappointing trip than a fantastic meal.  It made up for the lack of craft beer in the trunk, the hour lost at Delhaize, the wretched weather, the taxidermy creatures and cigarette smoke, and the complete lack of photos on my card.

The next morning, we tipped our hats to Wallonia and headed home.  The weather was still the same and we were exhausted.  Sometimes things go wrong and plans fall apart.  That's ok.  That's totally ok.  I'm just relieved we survived that horrid hotel.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

At De Ronde

So, last week I mentioned that we were up in Ghent in order to catch De Ronde van Vlaanderen cycling race.  When we lived in Luxembourg we tried to catch as many weekend single day races as we could, Omloop, Kuurne-Brussels-Kuurne, Liege-Bastogne-Liege, Paris-Roubaix, Amstel Gold, etc.  "The Classics" are my favorite races of the season.  The big grand tours are great and all, but the luster has worn off a little over the years.  With the never ending doping sagas and the monotonous and predictable tactics, they no longer grab my attention as they once did.  The action of a single day race, however, is still magic.  While I adore LBL and Paris-Roubaix, in my opinion, the best race to be there for is De Ronde.  There's nothing like being on one of the Flemish hills with a big screen TV, a cone of frites, a plastic cup of beer, and a bunch of Belgian cycling fans.  Nothing.

We were on the Paterberg in 2013 before the sun came up and I took a ton of photos all day of the action on the hill.
















The rest of that set is up on my Flickr page, if you want to see some rider photos and shots from some of the other races.

This year on the Paterberg was about the same.  We still got there before sunrise and watched a hill in the middle of nowhere turn into one of the biggest parties Flanders probably sees all year. The medic ambulance got stuck in the mud again.  The burgers and frites were still hot, good, and messy.  The beer was flowing, but improved with Kwaremont being served instead of Jupiler.  The big screen was there so we didn't miss a moment of the action of the men's race (they still refuse to broadcast the women's race).  There were a few differences, though.  I don't know if this was a new thing for the 2015 edition or not, but there was a huge VIP pavilion at the top of the climb which created a weird dynamic early in the day with folks tramping up and down the hill in formal attire, while the rest of us were in jeans and waterproofs.  The organizers also have added free stools at the TV which were eagerly snatched up and carried off.  I spent most of the morning shooting time lapse, so I didn't take very many spectator shots.  I'm still working on the time lapse stuff (very laborious business, time lapse is).
The moon was incredible this year

Free stools



VIP area

The crowd was a little more rowdy than in 2013.  The beer flowed a bit more freely, there was some pot smoking going on, a few little brawls, and, alas, some unfortunate behavior from some of the fans.  A word of wisdom to all my fellow English speakers, please be careful what you say.  Pretty much everyone in Flanders understands English.

Anyway, the races themselves were awesome.  I would have loved live footage of the women's race before they arrived at the Paterberg, but I gotta tell ya, we were all really surprised when Elisa Longo Borgihini showed up totally on her own.  I was completely unprepared with my equipment so here is a really out of focus shot.



I'm not into sports photography, and there are so many amazing and talented people out there shooting cycling I don't really feel the need to be.  Of course, when the riders come through I can't not pull out the camera.  The intense crowd jostling this year really made it a challenge to get any race shots and the spot down by the TV is the wrong place to be if you want a good angle anyway.  Be that as is may, here are a handful of shots from down in the thick of things.




Alexander Kristoff and Niki Terpstra on the last pass of the Paterberg




De Ronde is a really special event, and I highly recommend it to any cycling fan or for anyone wanting a unique cultural experience.  The great thing about De Ronde is its huge local importance.  This is the biggest sporting event of the year in this part of Flanders.  If you sit at one of the major climbs, the men pass by a couple of times, the race is up on a TV, there's food, toilets, drinks, pretty much everything you could need.  Plus, there's the women's race, so you can actually see some of that action.  Now that going up to Belgium for a weekend is no longer so easy since we moved to Bavaria, we can really only make it up there for one race.  We'd be hard pressed to choose a race besides De Ronde.

Friday, April 10, 2015

Back in Ghent

Last week we went back to one of our favorite cities to hang out in, Ghent.  The main reason was to catch De Ronde van Vlaanderen cycle race.  We've been to a lot of cycle races in the past couple of years, but The Ronde is definitely our favorite to go to.  However, we don't really need an excuse to go to Ghent.  The Belgian cities of Leuven, Bruges, and even Brussels have some fantastic city centers, but Ghent just has a little extra something special that has earned it the "Best City in Belgium" award for us.  It's a great mix of old and new, traditional and eclectic.  Plus, most of the time (except Easter and Ronde weekend), it's pretty chill while the tour buses pass the place by on their way to Bruges.

Being April, the weather is rather fickle in Belgium this time of year, but we were blessed to have a dry race day and mostly dry weekend overall.  But, it was pretty overcast for most of it.  We happened to catch a break on Saturday with an afternoon clear up so we did a lot of shooting along the Leie in the old center.  It was really nice to finally have some good skies to work with to warrant lugging the tripod and ND filters around.





A couple of these are now up on the website in the Belgian city gallery.  Ghent is such a wonderful and photogenic city with plenty of drink and food spots to warm up in when the wind gets to be too much.  The really nice thing about Belgium is that its cities haven't been overshot, especially the smaller ones like Ghent.  So, it gives me the chance to come up with my own views without being overly influenced by other work.

Another cool thing about the weekend was that I got to try out a new lens that showed up out of the blue.  I've been short a good long lens forever, which in a place like Ghent with all its wonderful little details is a real frustration.  But, that problem has been solved.  I now have the Fujinon XF 55-200mm f/3.5-4.8 R LM OIS in my bag!  Granted, it definitely makes the X-E2 a little unbalanced, but it was still less awkward than walking around with a DSLR and a long lens.  And, of course, the best part is that this lens performs.







I should mention that those last two were shot handheld in a cathedral.  It was fantastic to capture the details of Ghent.  I'm really pleased with the 55-200mm.  It's a big 'un, but it's fast, stable, and clear.  Another Canon lens is now on the retirement shelf.

Of course, thanks to the overcast sky I ended up shooting a lot of street.  The pubs, the old buildings, the university scene, the canals.  Wow.  It's an incredible place for mono street scenes.  BUT, alas, I can't show you what I came home with as, publicly showing candid street photos (with recognizable people) taken in Belgium isn't legal.  Sorry.

So, I took away two things from the week.  Ghent is an incredible city.  We've been visiting it since 2012, and every year we love it more.  There's always something new to find and the old stuff isn't too shabby either.  Secondly, I'm really, really happy with my new long lens .  While I know that the lens is best set up to match with the X-T1, it does operate with the smaller body of the X-E2 too.  It's not discreet, certainly, but long lenses never are.  But, there are times when I can't get physically closer to a subject, and it is really nice to have a long lens to get me there that doesn't let me down.

There's no doubt we'll go back to Ghent.  There's always another cycle race to watch and I doubt I'll ever get tired of walking that city's streets with a camera.