The number of photos I’ve taken since arriving in Venice a shade under a week ago.
A few can be seen here.
But, more importantly, since I’m not returning home until the end of the week.
Does anyone know the Italian for: “What’s your best price on an external 250Mb hard drive mate?”
Because of Ryanair‘s stinginess with their baggage allowance, I left the big Lacie at home.
Steve (somewhere near San Marcuola)
I’ve just discovered that I’m one of the runners-up in the Urban Living photography competition.
It’s not a picture that I’ve got on here, but if you know me then you should be able to work out which one is mine.
I recognise the name of one of the other runners-up as a professional heavyweight who contributes to Getty, so I’m in pretty hallowed company.
I’m a happy snapper!
I went to Canvey Island of my own free will.
Worse than that, I have to admit that I really rather enjoyed it. Is that twisted or what?
In the right light, the place does have a certain je ne sais quoi. Quite what, though, is another matter.
Or as the natives would say: “Pretty. Innit.”
Now that IS shocking!
And it’s official.
According to someone who knows about these things, when one has a night on the Toon, one should go out or come home with a partner who has two legs. Whether the former or the latter or both seems to depend on the copious consumption of strange beverages of mysterious colours.
Me? My companion had three legs. And I went to bed alone, having drunk a mere two pints of lager.
Which seemed to cause much mirth at the strange things us southerners get up to.
But a tripod does help keep the camera steady, and I did come home with these and these. And there are more!
I may be sad but I don’t care