…Europe is intense. I like the cheese. I like the noisy little cars. I like the pastry, the architecture, the museums, the people, the fashion, the weather, the diversity, the pashing (it’s an Aussie word for what Parisians do), the colours, the countryside… I’m not so keen on the dog shit situation… My time in…
…Look, he says, pointing at the cover, ‘Princess Diana visits Africa’. He presses the magazine into my hand and dives back into the trunk. A golf ball! he exclaims excitedly, and gives it to me. Do you play golf my dear boy? he asks… Trying to hitch out of Malaga, Spain. The morning is cold…
…The place is like the inside of James Bond’s basement. Rack after rack of high tech assault rifles, sub machine guns and pistols line the walls… The highlights of Malaga, Spain: the Picasso Museum and the most awesome toy shop I’ve ever seen. Guns. Walking into the city to see the Picasso Museum,…
…When I was a kid, my mother gave us ‘horse’s breakfast’ before school. Horse’s breakfast? I ask, perplexed. It is fresh bread soaked in red wine. So you had bread soaked in wine, and then went to school? How old were you..? Alvaro, a Portuguese gent whose acquaintance was made in Chefchaouen, offers a…
Mary, Joseph, Baby Jesus and the three wise milkshakes… The waitresses at this Cordoba cafe may have too much time on their hands… ;-) Happy holidays humans! >> More WTF… >> Raw Safari on Twitter.
Seville is an awesome city to photograph and camp in. Colorful, chaotic. Vibrant but not too big. A messy, energetic clash of African design and European decadence, with a flamenco rhythm. Here are some photos I took of the city. Plus, a free accommodation tip. (Top: Catholocism in exextremis. This photo is in the…
…An old German guy, Rudy, gives me a ride to Rabat… As I climb out, and thank him, Rudy calls out,”vatch out for ze Moroccan beetles! Don’t let zem get in your blood! Next sing you know, you vill be here ten years, like me!” He roars with laughter as he zooms away in his…
…The area formerly housing the Roman circus was turned into a slaughterhouse, and the catacombs of the amphitheatre were gradually filled with rubbish by the city’s inhabitants, who used them as a convenient refuse dump… We wait a while for a ride out of Callafel, Spain. Finally Nick offers to take us to Lleida. On…
Small, sleepy, sunsoaked, Calafell feels as if it hasn’t changed since the first paper-white Pom’s stumbled out of their tour busses in the 1960s. The town is anything but inspiring, but the beach is spectacular, gigantic, and seriously underpopulated (at time of writing, which is late September). It’s hard to imagine the Calafell beach crowded…
The madness begins with the “Festa Major” day parade, a.k.a. the “almost blowing small children’s heads off parade…”
…We settle down on the riverbank in the shade, to eat, and are mobbed by a herd of goats… Juan, a Spanish travelling salesman, picks us up from a servo in France, just north of the border. He is shy at first, but after chatting for a while, we win him over. When he…
“I see many films, and hear many stories about hitchhikers, and they always meet with some crazy guy, who kill them… You must be careful. Especially here in Australia…”