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Paul

Paul

milford sound sunrise south island road trip
BlogPhotographyTravel

We can’t leave home, so get out and see the country

by Paul September 30, 2020
written by Paul
milford sound exploring new zealand

Like many Kiwi’s living abroad, I jumped at the opportunity to escape the madness of COVID-19 just before it peaked (the first time at least). I returned to the relative sanctuary of my homeland just hours before the quarantine enforcement came in. I then watched from a distance for the next few months as the carnage gripped the rest of the world, leaving our isolated Islands to appear more utopian than ever.

We Live in the Most Beautiful Country on Earth – Let’s Explore it!

I left New Zealand 10 years ago – originally with the intention of spending 6 months in Australia. After seven years and many failed attempts at making my fortune, I then made a slightly more culturally shocking move to Germany. Where, almost on a daily basis, I face the question (asked more as an accusation): “Was machts du in Deutschland?!” Germans love New Zealand, and whether they’ve been or not seems to be irrelevant. New Zealand must be paradise. In typical German style, those who have visited Aotearoa make a strict itinerary and methodically tick off every possible natural attraction along the way – making sure it’s an equal balance of fun and education, of course.  For many (not just Germans) this is a dream holiday.  An absolute once in a lifetime trip to the world’s most stunning country. Yet, we Kiwi’s have access to this natural beauty day in day out, and we fail to appreciate it or, worse, haven’t even explored it.

I was as guilty of this as anyone. A fact that I started to become embarrassed about when explaining to my well-traveled German friends, for example, that I’d never been to Milford Sound. A confession which often caused them to choke on their bratwurst (definitely should have picked a different German food). Faced with the prospect of this trauma for the indefinite future, and after 6 weeks being locked up with my brother and parents, I decided to right this wrong as soon I was legally able to.

New Zealand is Best Discovered by Road

When the drop to level 2 came I was ready with a campervan from Tui Campers, my camera, and drone. It was time to do a South Island road trip and see what all the fuss is about. For the next few weeks, I was on the road. On my own. I didn’t miss a sunset or sunrise, I drove over 4,000km, developed un unhealthy ability to converse with myself, and genuinely had one of the best trips of my life.

I’ve created a Google map highlighting all the best accommodation and photo locations on my trip, check it out below!

Christchurch

christchurch drone taylors mistake
Taylor's Mistake, with the Godley Head track in the foreground.

I’m from the Bay of Plenty. I like warm weather and beaches. Ok, so I’m from Rotorua, admittedly not famous for its beaches. But, still, when my parents announced they were selling up to move to Christchurch I was less than impressed. So, upon my return to New Zealand for the start of lockdown, I was forced to settle into the spare room at their place. Christchurch is where this trip begins.

Taumutu Beach

Ok, I lied. My parents told me they’d moved to Christchurch, but by the time the horse carriage dropped me off from the airport in Prebbleton, I realised I’d been had. It’s a bit like buying a house in Huntly and telling your family to come visit you in Auckland. One day, before slipping into a Prebblton induced boredom coma, I decided to find the shortest straight line to the coast. That’s how I found my way to Taumutu Beach. This beach is less than 30 mins from Christchurch, but not a single person I met in Christchurch had ever heard of it. During my stay I visited this beach 6 times, one or two of those may have been during lockdown (sorry, Aunty Cindy), and saw another human once. Not counting my brother, who came with me one of those times, but arguably wouldn’t be classed as human anyway.

That’s one difference you become aware of pretty quickly if you’ve ever visited beautiful beaches around the world (particularly Europe); it’s almost impossible to get to the water without stepping on 300 different body parts and receiving insults in more languages than you knew existed. But in New Zealand after an hour you start to fear that the rapture has just taken place and you, as the worst person on earth, are the only one left behind.

Godley Head Track

The Godley Head track is a loop starting from either Taylor’s Mistake Beach or up in the hills at the Godley Head carpark. I started at the top in the hope that I’d find a ride back up. I didn’t. The track takes you around the edge of the cliffs at the inlet to Lyttelton Harbour, past the old WWII defense battery, and descends down along the rocky coastline, past some colourful old fisherman’s baches, and onto Taylor’s Mistake Beach. The full loop is 8km and should take a normal person 2.5-3 hours.

Taylor’s Mistake

A beautiful secluded beach and Christchurch’s premier surf break – I recently did a week of surf lessons in France, so I speak with some authority on the matter. Actually, I have no idea what I’m talking about, but there were waves and people standing up on them. Plus that’s what the Christchurch City Council website says. Seriously, though, the beach is beautiful. There’s a surf club and even good coffee (at least in summer), plus it’s super close to the city – well worth the extra 5-minute drive from Sumer, in my opinion.

Waimakariri River Mouth

A 30-minute drive to the north of the city, the Waimakariri River mouth at Kairaki is one of the best places in the region to watch the sunrise. Steam rises off the river and mixes with the sea spray from the relentless pounding of the Pacific Ocean. Through the morning haze, you have the Port Hills and Banks Peninsular to your right, and the Kaikoura Ranges off in the distance to your left. Turns out it’s also a popular fishing spot – if you’ve got a 4WD you can drive right up to the waters’ edge and cast a line.

The West Coast

lake matheson reflections

The only time I’d ever been to the West Coast before this trip was when I was 11 and the best memory I have was catching a Salmon in a hatchery in Hokitika. I knew this was going to be hard to top, so I came prepared for disappointment.

I guess 11 year old me paid a little less attention to natural beauty, because this whole region is absolutely stunning, and probably even more memorable than a vacuum-packed Salmon. The Southern Alps rise straight up from the Tasman Sea to over 3,700m in a space of less than 40km. This dramatic rise is what causes the land in between to record some of the highest rainfall levels in the world. I get it. Rainfall isn’t always what you’re looking for on a trip, but this isn’t the kind of place you come for a relaxing beach holiday. What appeals about the West Coast is how wild it is. It is truly an untouched, untamed part of the country, covered in lush, native rainforest and bordered by a wild, unpredictable Tasman Sea.

Wild and Untamed

Just to give you an idea of how sparsely populated this part of the country is: The West Coast region is larger than Israel – admittedly not famous for being large, but the population of Isreal? Nearly 9 million. The population of the West Coast? 32,000! – Even Slovenia, also smaller than the West Coast, and famous for being one of the most forested and least densely populated countries in Europe, has over 2 million people. If you ever need to get away from the world and experience a landscape that has remained largely unchanged for the entire existence of humanity, this is the place.

My suggestion; if you have any interest in photography or nature, get someone else to do the driving. Chances are you’ll drive yourself off a cliff otherwise. Owing to my complete lack of friends, I didn’t have that as an option. So I just stopped every 35 meters to snap off some shots and spent roughly 7 years driving the length of the coast.

Lake Matheson

Whether you recognize the name or not, you’ve likely seen photos of this incredible lake. It’s world-famous for having perfectly calm water, offering a mirror-reflection of New Zealand’s two highest peaks – Aoraki/ Mount Cook & Mount Tasman. The lake is often so calm because it’s small and well sheltered by hills, and the perfect reflections are due to the brown water (romantic, I know) which is a result of tannins in the runoff from the surrounding native bush.

I’d read reviews about this place being a hot-spot for ‘grammers’ – how they get in the way with their ridiculous poses and ruin the experience, but I was there for sunset and sunrise and saw a total of 6 other people walking the trail. On both occasions, I had the viewing platforms to myself. Cheers, Corona.

The track around the lake is about an hour of easy walking, offering multiple viewpoints and some beautiful native bush. Unfortunately, despite the amazing views, Lake Matheson will always be remembered as the place where my makeshift quick-release strap failed and my camera fell into the water, rendering it almost useless for the remainder of my trip.

Stop here for the best photos.

Ship Creek

I’m guessing you’ve never heard of Ship Creek. Neither had I until I pulled into a car park and saw the name on a small signpost. I was looking for a place to stop quickly, and hopefully, catch a view of the sea before heading inland. Instead, I found a disgustingly scenic beach which I had to myself for the afternoon. This is another thing I love about NZ – anywhere else in the world Ship Creek itself would be a tourist attraction, but here it’s signposted as a rest stop on the way to other locations. A place to relieve yourself and get back on the road. Then, as if the view wasn’t enough, Hectors Dolphins started surfing the waves in front of me. You know, just the rarest Dolphins in the world. Apparently not an uncommon occurrence around here. My rest stop turned into a frantic 3-hour photo session and it was dark by the time I hit the road again.

A couple of other recommendations:

  • The Woodstock Hotel offers freedom camping in its car park. The pub wasn’t open during the time I was there, but if you happen to stay, support local and at least grab a beer!
  • Don’t miss the short walk to view the icy blue waters of the Hokitika Gorge.

Aoraki/ Mount Cook National Park

sealy tarns summit south island road trip
The view of Aoraki/ Mt Cook from the Sealy Tarns summit at sunset.

New Zealand’s highest peak and training ground for the first man to climb Everest, Aoraki dominates the landscape of the Canterbury High Country. This iconic peak doesn’t get the publicity it deserves – I’m pretty confident most people reading this have never been close enough to truly appreciate it. All three of you should be ashamed. Mount Cook Village is located 65km from Twizel. A casual 45 minute drive that takes you along the western edge of Lake Pukaki, providing stunning views the entire way. From the village you have direct access to the walking tracks, Hermitage Hotel and campgrounds. My recommendations:

Hooker Valley Track

The Hooker Valley Track is probably the most well known of the tracks in the area. It’s a 3-hour return track which takes you right to the edge of the Hooker Lake where you can get possibly the best unobstructed view of Mount Cook that exists. The walk is mostly flat and easy, with some vertigo-inducing swing bridge crossings thrown in for good measure.

Sealy Tarns Track (Meuller Hut)

Regarded as the stairway to heaven (emphasis on stairway), this was the highlight of the National Park for me. Though I couldn’t go all the way to Mueller hut because of COVID rules at the time, the walk to the Sealy Tarns viewpoint is still an epic hike with a view that was well worth the effort. It only takes a couple of hours – depending on how many ‘photo’ (breathing) stops you make – but it’s two hours of solid uphill. 2,000 steps apparently, I lost count at 39 – about when I had to start focusing all my attention on breathing. This hike was the first place I ever encountered our elusive native parrot, the Kea! A group of them followed me, making cheeky comments about my slow progress for about half an hour – equal parts embarrassing and thrilling.

Remember, this is an alpine hike, so go prepared and check the forecast. Check out the DOC website for more info and to book the cabin at Meuller Hut.

Tasman Glacier Track

If you’re short on time, or energy, this is the walk for you. The DOC website says the walk to the lake edge is an hour return, but if you’re under 93 it shouldn’t be. It’s an easy walk right up to the lake edge where you can do boat and kayak trips. Or, if you’re like me (poor), take a Bialetti and make a coffee with glacier water then hang around getting scared in the dark while you do some astrophotography and question why you came here alone.

Campground Glentanner

I spent two nights at Glentanner getting hot showers and recharging everything. The facilities were great, and the layout amongst the trees is perfect. Highlight, though, was chatting to an Austrian guy who was trapped here during the lockdown. Although trapped is probably not the right word, he spends 6 months of every year in New Zealand enjoying the peace and natural beauty. For dinner, he caught a trout in Lake Pukaki every day and I doubt there was anywhere else he’d rather have been.

Other tips:

  • Fill up on gas before you get to Mount Cook Village. There’s one little petrol pump in the village, but they charge at least one vital organ per litre. You can easily fill up for half the price in Twizel.
  • For the famous view you’ve seen on the cover of every AA map since 1972 stop at Peter’s Lookout, about halfway along the road to Mount Cook Village.

Lake Pukaki

Lake Pukaki Freedom Camping
My Tui Camper parked up on the shores of Lake Pukaki - surely the best freedom camping spot in the country!

Best Freedom Camping Spot in the Country

I’m going to make a bold statement: the Mackenzie region was the highlight of this trip for me. There is surely no place in New Zealand as underrated as the Mackenzie. Home to New Zealand’s highest peak, some of our best day-hikes, world-class stargazing, and the impossibly blue waters of Lake Pukaki. Also, surely the country’s best spot for (legal) freedom camping.

As a photographer maybe it’s the teal and orange colours that appeal to me, but there’s definitely something about the dry, barren landscape, framed by snow-capped peaks and reflected in icy blue water. It’s a photographer’s paradise. Not to mention what happens after the sun goes down. Wait, that doesn’t sound right. I’m talking about the stars. There’s a reason they call the main road here the Starlight Highway. The night sky in the Mackenzie is absolutely next level, and worth a trip all on its own. If I had friends I would have lit a fire, roasted some marshmallows, and spent the night gazing at the stars talking about friend stuff.

Support Local

I’m gonna throw in a little plug here, too, for Hydro Cafe in Twizel. In a place like this, you could easily get away with Nespresso-style pod coffee and microwave food – there’s not a lot of competition. I had coffee/breakfast here three mornings in a row (under the pretense of ‘supporting local’ – really I just wanted to steal electricity). The food was great, and it was the best flat white I’ve had since returning to NZ (I’ve worked as a barista in Australia and Germany for the past 8 years, so unlike with surfing I do have some knowledge).

Wanaka

roys peak wanaka
Obligatory sunrise selfie at the Saddle near the summit of Roy's Peak

Roys Peak

Despite my love for the outdoors and photography, hiking isn’t something I’ve done a lot of. Just carrying my own body weight on flat ground is challenging enough for these chicken legs, let alone going uphill with 20kg of camera equipment. Okay, 10kg. Regardless, I was dreading Roy’s peak. Not just because of the 1,000m climb, but because I knew I’d have to get up at 4 am, in the middle of winter, to do it. As a photographer, it’s absolutely pointless to walk up in broad daylight and get shots in the harsh sun of midday. If you’re going to do it, do it properly. Needless to say the 2.5 hour ascent was a dark and painful one. But, wow, was it worth it. Watching the sunrise beyond Lake Wanaka and the Alps, with the fog swirling around me, was an experience I’ll never forget. And, once again, in a place famous for being packed with dickheads taking selfies, I was the only dickhead taking selfies. The solutude was incredible.  Just so you know; the famous photo spot isn’t actually the peak of Roy, that’s another 30 mins uphill.

That Wanaka tree

New Zealand’s most photographed tree. This is about as cliche as travel photos in New Zealand get, but it truly is a spectacular and unique view. Also, it’s far more accessible than Roy’s Peak. Literally a 30-second walk from the car park on the edge of the lake. Maybe it doesn’t provide the same sense of accomplishment, but it’s well worth coming down here for sunset. My recommendation would be sunrise though, no matter what the occasion you’ll always have fewer people ruining your serenity early in the morning.

Pro tip: Don’t try to get away with freedom camping in the car parks around Wanaka, my wallet and I can tell you from experience the council here is pretty vigilant.

  • If you do climb Roy’s Peak for sunrise, you’ll likely pass a lot of latecomers on your way back down. Between laboured breaths, they’ll ask you how much further – I found it adds to the satisfaction level to lie and tell them all they’re nearly there.

Queenstown

queenstown south island road trip
Queenstown from Bob's Peak, with the moon rising over the Remarkables.

There has never been a better time to visit Queenstown. Why? Think back to your last visit – Beautiful setting, thriving nightlife, adventure around every corner. Amazing, right? But think a little harder. Was there something not quite right? That’s it… Australians! They were everywhere. Well, thanks to COVID-19, that problem has been temporarily solved.

But seriously, If there’s anywhere on this list that shouldn’t require an introduction, it’s Queenstown. Queenstown is the closest thing we have to the kind of ski resort town you’d find in North America or the European Alps, and surely appears on any shortlist for the most beautiful city setting on the planet. Actually, with only 15,000 residents, Queenstown doesn’t even qualify as a city, yet it still contains over 150 bars/ restaurants, 3 world-class ski areas, some of the best and most exclusive hotels in the country, and the surrounding region is home to over 200 wineries. When foreigners ask me if New Zealand really is as beautiful as they say I generally show them a photo of Queenstown with the lake and The Remarkables in the background – “people actually LIVE there?” is a standard response.

Scenic Flight with Glenorchy Air

If there’s one must-do activity, it’s to get up in the air and view this incredible landscape from above. I got a seat on a flight over the Ernslaw Burn with Glenorchy Air – never have I had a stronger desire to be able to rotate my neck 360 degrees. You don’t get a true sense of the scale and beauty of this landscape until you see it from this perspective. I cannot recommend it highly enough.

The Remarkables

I was in town a bit early, but of course, skiing or snowboarding should be on everyone’s winter to-do list in Queenstown. What you can do in other seasons, though, is go for a drive up The Remarkables road for a spectacular view over the whole Queenstown area. But don’t stop there. I found out there’s also a hike up to Lake Alta, which was a questionable decision in fading light and blizzard conditions, but well worthwhile – possibly more so in the summer months.

Gibbston Wines

With 200 wineries in the area, there’s no shortage of selection, but it’d be hard to go past the Gibbston Winery for a true insight into the local wine industry. Fun fact: Central Otago is regarded as one fo the top three Pinot Noir regions in the world, and Gibbston is where it all started. The pork belly was some of the best I’ve ever had and the wine cave is well worth checking out. The winery is located in the Gibbston Valley, along the Kawarau River between Queenstown and Cromwell.

Moke Lake

For a less typical Queenstown experience, make the drive out to Moke Lake. It’s only about 15 minutes from town along the road to Glenorchy, and another perfect spot for capturing the landscape reflected in the waters of a still lake. The lake is small, secluded, and has some great little walks. Unfortunately, the night-time weather didn’t play ball while I was here, but this is another great place for astrophotography!

Bob’s Peak/ Skyline

For the most famous view of the city, this is the place. There’s a platform right at the top of the gondola which gives you a spectacular panoramic view of the lake, city centre, and the Remarkables. You definitely want to be up here for sunset! Also, if you’re a bit more hard-core, you can use this as the starting point for hiking the Ben Lomond trail – a full day hike that takes you to the 1,748m summit. Click here for more info on that.

Milford Sound

milford sound sunrise south island road trip

I mentioned the Mackenzie was the highlight for me, but that was relative to my expectations. I knew Milford Sound was going to blow my mind. Touted as the 8th wonder of the natural world by British author Rudyard Kipling, Milford is our most famous natural attraction and one that people literally travel from the other side of the world to experience.

Milford Sound is one of the very few places on earth where you (should) hope for terrible weather. Thankfully, terrible weather is another thing this part of the country is famous for. The sounds absolutely come alive in the rain! Waterfalls appear from the sky and the whole backdrop looks like the set of Jurassic Park – and that’s just on the drive in; a winding 2-hour journey from Te Anau that ends with the famous view of Mitre Peak on the Eastern shore of Milford Sound.

Visit Before the Border Reopens

The only problem with being so stunning and popular is that you attract people. A lot of people. I’d heard some nightmare stories about visitors who’d arrived, only to be sent back towards Te Anau because of a complete lack of parking. So, if you’ve been waiting for a perfect time to visit, now is that time! I barely passed another vehicle on the way in – lucky, because I wasn’t exactly watching the road – and when I arrived I had the whole car park to myself (parking was also free at the time, not sure if that’s still the case). I was also able to turn up and get on a boat tour without booking and drive straight into the campground. For a person with a complete absence of organizational skills, it was a dream.

Stay a Few Days

Give yourself at least three days here to experience the Sound in all its changing conditions, and if you want to get the best photographs of Mitre Peak, get your lazy ass out of bed for sunrise! Try to time it with high-tide for some banger reflections. Oh, and take some bug spray – depending on the tides or time of year the sandflies here can be brutal.

  • I stayed in the campground at Milford Lodge, which is super close to the mouth of the sound and a good place to charge up the van. There are also some great cooking facilities, or if you’re less poor than me (everyone), some fancy cabins.
  • Because of COVID restrictions at the time, a lot of the walking tracks weren’t open so I wasn’t able to do any hikes. But check out the Milford Sound website for some good day hike options.
  • You can’t spend any time here without getting on the water. I did a 2-hour cruise with Mitre Peak Cruises which takes you out to the entrance of Milford Sound and back, stopping at the major waterfalls along the way and offering informative commentary.

The Catlins

nugget point the catlins

Not unlike the West Coast – in fact maybe more so – the Catlins is a region noted for its isolation, wild weather, and rugged coastline. The region is home to a measly 1,200 hardy Kiwi’s – New Zealander’s I mean. It’s a safe bet there are actually more of the flightless birds down here.

Pure Wilderness

The Catlins features 500 sq kilometers of dense temperate rainforest, the kind of bush that forms an impenetrable green wall along the many walking trails. I took the path to Mclean Falls, an easy 30-minute walk to an impressive multi-drop waterfall. The walk itself is almost as impressive, with trees bending over the pathway creating a tunnel effect that blocks out almost any light.

Wild Coastline

The main attraction in the Catlins is the Nugget Point Lighthouse, which stands tall on the edge of a cliff overlooking the rocky islands (nuggets) emerging from the Pacific. The path to the lighthouse is a 20-minute walk along cliff edges, at the bottom of which are permanent seal colonies. The coast is famous for unpredictable weather and huge swells – apparently now popular with big wave surfers. This lighthouse is surely one of the most famous sunrise locations in the country!

  • Tip: The famous lighthouse view you’ve seen (as above) is actually taken from private DOC land. To get there requires some commando tactics. Actually, it probably doesn’t, but it was fun trying. Seriously, though, the signs warn of possible death – I’m guessing from falling rather than being shot by a DOC worker, but you never know. Anyway, if you try it, be careful, and if you get caught you didn’t hear about this from me.
  • The whole coastline down here is also a popular area to spot the endangered Yellow Eyed Penguin.
  • For a true country-Kiwi experience, stop off at one of the local pubs for a brew or some fish ‘n’ chips. A good place is at Kaka Point.

A huge thank you to Tui Campers for hooking me up with the most incredible campervan for this trip. There’s truly no better way to see New Zealand!

If you’d like to have any of the above images on your wall check out my print store!

September 30, 2020 1 comment
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WEST COAST. FRANCE

by Paul September 2, 2020
written by Paul

September 2, 2020 4 comments
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NOMAD HEIDELBERG

by Paul April 18, 2020
written by Paul

I’ve been creating regular content for Nomad Cafe in Heidelberg over the past two years. From photographing new menu items, to events and coffee tasting workshops.

April 18, 2020 2 comments
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christchurch new zealand new brighton pier
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Christchurch, New Zealand

by Paul March 29, 2020
written by Paul

Christchurch, New Zealand. I haven’t lived in New Zealand since 2010, and I come from the North Island, but since my parents moved to Christchurch in 2018 the city has become my default “home” in New Zealand. These are a few photographs I managed to get out and shoot in early 2019, and early 2020 – while back for Corona Virus lockdown!

March 29, 2020 0 comment
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Berlin

by Paul March 1, 2020
written by Paul

Berlin, February 2020. Four days of wandering Germany’s rain soaked and brutally cold capital – highly recommended!

March 1, 2020 2 comments
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Tenerife

by Paul February 10, 2020
written by Paul

Tenerife is one of my favourite places on Earth. The combination of tropical weather, wild volcanic landscapes and a unique mix of human and culinary culture makes for a perfect escape destination. In October 2018 I was lucky enough to travel to Tenerife for my second time in partnership with Visit Tenerife and these are some of the shots I got.

February 10, 2020 4 comments
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Uuuhmami Heidelberg

by Paul February 3, 2020
written by Paul
February 3, 2020 2 comments
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Bavaria

by Paul January 6, 2020
written by Paul
January 6, 2020 1 comment
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travel and creative content
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Turkey

by Paul January 3, 2020
written by Paul

Turkey is a land of incredible contrast, history and beauty. In December 2019 I was lucky enough to spend 9 days exploring the unparalleled Cappadocia region of Anatolia and the hectic, sprawling metropolis of Istanbul.

January 3, 2020 0 comment
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Travel

Broome & The Kimberley

by Paul December 4, 2019
written by Paul

Broome & The Kimberley. Where do I start? This amazing part of the planet will always be a second home to me. I spent 3 years of my life here (plus three dry seasons), and it’s where I really honed my photographic craft and developed a passion in to a business. There really is no place on earth like Broome!

Contact me for image licencing, or take a look at some of these images in the Print Store.

Images created in partnership with Broome Camel Safaris

December 4, 2019 2 comments
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Neues Schwarz, Dortmund

by Paul December 4, 2019
written by Paul

Neues Schwarz, Dortmund, Germany – Roasters of specialty coffee, and home to a cafe with a relaxed, down to earth vibe. I spent an afternoon with the baristas from Cafe Nomad as they learned the basics of coffee tasting, roasting and latte art.

December 4, 2019 1 comment
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Portrait Photography

by Paul November 13, 2019
written by Paul
November 13, 2019 0 comment
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Heidelberg

by Paul November 6, 2019
written by Paul
November 6, 2019 0 comment
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Wedding Photography

by Paul October 28, 2019
written by Paul
October 28, 2019 3 comments
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Croatia & Montenegro

by Paul October 25, 2019
written by Paul
October 25, 2019 0 comment
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Sardinia

by Paul October 22, 2019
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October 22, 2019 4 comments
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CABLE BEACH CAMEL SUNSET broome
Photography

Cable Beach Camels in Photographs

by Paul March 3, 2019
written by Paul

In a few months, it’ll be two years since I last photographed the camels on Cable Beach. This job was an invaluable step along my path as a photographer and gave me confidence and foundational skills to pursue photography as a career.

I can’t say when I’ll next have the opportunity to run barefoot down Cable Beach, with camera in hand and salty air filling my lungs. But in the gloom of a long European winter, the scene often replays in my head behind closed eyes. 

Hard as it was to leave this job, the climate, the people, the beach, this was a move that had to be made. One that I’ve tried but failed to regret. I could never better myself as a photographer, a person, by staying where I was. Life was too comfortable, too easy. 

But I feel no guilt in reminiscing, in longing for an easy life of again running across a beach resembling an upside down sky and squinting into the blinding tropical light. Trying to get that perfect shot.

I never did get that perfect shot, I’m sure many photographers feel they never will. But this series of photographs is about as close as I feel I came.

I hope you enjoy.

cable beach camels sunset

blue camels cable beach
broome camels
cable beach camels silhouette
red sun camels cable beach
cable beach camels storm
cable beach camels
cable beach camels broome
cable beach camels
cable beach camels
cable beach camels silhouette
cable beach camels broome
cable beach camels

As always, feedback is much appreciated. Do you have a favourite? Have you been to Broome, or ridden these camels? What was the experience of a sunset on Cable Beach like for you?

March 3, 2019 0 comment
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Visions of Heidelberg

by Paul January 13, 2019
written by Paul

My favourite shots of Heidelberg, where I took them and the settings I used.

Heidelberg is a well-known tourist destination and the city has been well covered from all the common angles. But I have spent a lot of time around here over the past year and a half and tried to cover the city from a less common perspective. So here’s my take on Heidelberg and surrounds:

Ziegelhausen and the Odenwald


While these images are not specifically in Heidelberg, they’re close enough for me… One of the things I like a lot about Heidelberg is the proximity to the outdoors and what seems like complete wilderness. Heidelberg is surrounded by forests full of walking and mountain biking trails.

autumn road heidelberg drone photography
The Odenwald from above. Just outside of Ziegelhausen this road winds up through the forest and into hills. I only discovered this spot late in the year but it quickly became my favourite place to fly the drone.
DJI Phantom 4 Pro
1/25 sec at f2.8
ISO 100
Looking North West from above the peak of the road between Ziegelhausen and Wilhelmsfeld.
DJI Phantom 4 Pro
1/40 sec at f2.8
ISO 100
winter is coming heidelberg photography
I took this shot from the cycle trail along the Neckar in between Heidelberg and Ziegelhausen. It’s one of the few shots here that I actually envisioned before taking. Possibly one of the few things in my life that I’ve planned in advance… I was looking for the perfect collection of houses amongst the trees, and the perfect reflection.
Canon 5D Mark III (with tripod)
Canon EF 24-105 mm 1:4.0 L IS USM @24mm
30 sec at f11
ISO 100
I didn’t find anywhere with a better contrast between the rich green of summer and the fiery golden Autumn colours.
DJI Phantom 4 Pro
1/15 sec at 2.8mm
IS0 100
Not the most famous hairpin in Germany, but a beauty nonetheless.
DJI Phantom 4 Pro
1/25 sec at f2.8
ISO 100

Note: You’ll realise that basically all my drone shots are shot at ISO 100. If the conditions are calm then I prefer to lower the shutter speed rather than raise the ISO. Of course the P4P is an incredible piece of technology, but I still notice that the slightest increase in ISO can bring noise into the image. Yet the ability of the drone to remain still is incredible – I have printed out an A2 size 3 second exposure and you’d think it was shot at 1/500.
Also, given the perspective of top-down shots, depth of field isn’t really required, so shooting at 2.8 doesn’t present any problems.

Philosophenweg


The most famous walk in Heidelberg. This path runs parallel with the Neckar River – Rather than capture the traditional shot of the city from up above, I like to head a bit further and capture the forest trails. Particularly in autumn when the fog starts to roll in.

The left-hand option from the shot below. You can’t beat this place on a foggy day.
Canon 5D Mark III
Sigma Art 35mm 1.4
1/200 sec at f2.8
ISO 200
The most recent shot in this collection. After taking a shot in autumn – which I loved (see below)- I had to come back and get this same location covered in snow. There’s something about the diverging path, the hut and the angle of those two trees… I’ll make a point of trying to capture this same spot in every season.
Canon 5D Mark III
Canon EF 24-105 mm 1:4.0 L IS USM @24mm
1/125 sec at f4
ISO 1250
– A higher ISO than I usually use, but I don’t like to slow the shutter down much more than I already had – Mine aren’t the steadiest hands out there! One of those situations where I’d love to have the 24-70mm 2.8
High above the fog rolling into the valley where Heidelberg lies. It’s always a nerve-racking experience sending the drone through the clouds and out of sight, but sometimes I know it’ll be worthwhile.
DJI Phantom 4 Pro
1/400 at 2.8
ISO 100
– I purposely underexposed this shot to avoid losing the bright details in the sky, but not so much so that the shadows were unrecoverable.
Deep into the Autumn season I took advantage of the common foggy days to head along the Philosophenweg (Philosophers Way) – A pathway up above the northern side of the Neckar which offers beautiful views of Heidelberg Altstadt. As you walk further east the trail becomes more of a bush walk and you come across beautiful, moody scenes like this.
Canon 5D Mark III
Canon EF 24-105 mm 1:4.0 L IS USM @24mm
1/250 sec at f5.6
ISO 500
Technically not the Philosophenweg, but you can take part of the Philosphenweg to get here. This is Thingstätte, a haunting amphitheatre that was used for Nazi rallies back in the day. It sits right at the top of Heiligenberg on the opposite side of the river from Königstuhl.
Canon 5D Mark III
Canon EF 24-105 mm 1:4.0 L IS USM @24mm
1/60 at f6.3
ISO 640
– Here I wanted to capture some depth from the foreground to the background, hence the 6.3 aperture. Because of that I had to find some balance between the ISO and the shutter speed – I wouldn’t normally slow it down that much, but I was able to steady myself on the stairs to avoid camera shake.

Königstuhl


Evidently I like to go up Königstuhl when it’s snowy, and I generally only go there for drone shots – and usually for sunrise. The reason being that Heidelberg is in a valley and the sun doesn’t show until quite late. So if I get to the top of the highest peak then I can catch the first light better. Also, while the snowfall doesn’t usually stick around for long in town, the extra elevation up here means I’m more likely to catch some wintery looking shots.

Still one of the most incredible sunrises I’ve seen in Germany, and one of my favourite shots from Heidelberg. I still remember the numbness in my hands that whole morning. It was brutal, but worth it.
DJI Phantom 3 Standard
1/10 sec at f2.8
ISO 100
This is the road leading towards the Max Planck Institute at the top of Königstuhl. The sun was just coming up, giving that slightly golden glow, but it was still brutally cold.
Canon 5D Mark III
Canon EF 24-105 mm 1:4.0 L IS USM @24mm
1/80 sec at f4
ISO 200
First light hitting the tip of the trees alongside the road heading towards the village of Gaiberg.
DJI Phantom 3 Standard
1/4 sec at f2.8
ISO 100
The road leading to the summit of Königstuhl.
DJI Phantom 3 Standard
1/6 sec at f2.8
ISO 100

Heidelberg Altstadt


Heidelberg’s Altstadt is famed for its beauty. As a result the town is generally full of tourists and tour groups. Because i dont usually like to get people in my photos – not groups of them at least – I tend to capture the Altstadt from a distance.

My favourite top-down of Heidelberg. I love the colour and haphazard nature of all the roofs.
DJI Phantom 4 Pro
1/10 sec at f6.3
ISO 100
– The 6.3 kind of contradicts my earlier comments about not needing depth of field for top-down shots. Anyway, I’d only recently upgraded to the P4P and I guess I felt like I needed to make the most of the option to adjust aperture. But, like I said, in calm conditions the slower shutter isn’t really a problem with this drone.
It’s a little known fact, to those who aren’t German at least, that Germany actually has incredible summer storms! I took this shot from the middle of the Old Bridge in town, right before I shit myself and hid underneath it.
Canon 5D Mark III (with tripod)
Canon EF 24-105 mm 1:4.0 L IS USM @47mm
20 sec at f14
ISO 50
To have the best chance of capturing a lightning strike I’ve increased the aperture and decreased the ISO to allow for a longer exposure. I found f14 offered the perfect balance between maintaining sharpness and allowing for a slow shutter speed.
1The view from the castle wall at golden hour on a beautiful autumn afternoon.
Canon 5D Mark III
Canon EF 24-105 mm 1:4.0 L IS USM @47mm
1/200 sec at f5
ISO 250
I took this shot on my first ever visit to Heidelberg in November 2016. Taken from the stairs below the front of the castle.
Canon 5D Mark III
Canon EF 24-105 mm 1:4.0 L IS USM @45mm
1/160 sec at f4
ISO 250
The Uni-Square christmas markets from above.
DJI Phantom 4 Pro
1/30 sec at f2.8
ISO 100
I guess this shot could have been taken anywhere, so it doesn’t exactly show off the beauty of Heidelberg. But I had to include it. Heidelberg does get some genuinely incredible sunset colour – especially heading into the Autumn season.
Canon 5D Mark III
Canon EF 24-105 mm 1:4.0 L IS USM @105mm
1/4 sec at f7.1
ISO 50
– This shot took a bit of trial and error, but the idea is to ‘swipe’ the camera from right to left smoothly and while staying as parallel with the horizon as possible. Try it when there’s water to the horizon – it looks incredible!
Last light on the Old Bridge. This is another shot I did actually plan. I wanted to get the shadows from the bridge on the river and to do so I needed a sunset where the sky was clear to the horizon – to avoid any diffusion.
DJI Phantom 3 Standard
1/160 sec at f2.8
ISO 100
Taken on my first drone flight of 2019. It may look warm and inviting, but this is winter at its peak!
DJI Phantom 4 Pro
1/60 sec at f7.1
ISO 100

Heidelberg Castle


While it is the obvious focal point of the city, I still had to include some castle shots. Hopefully, they’re a little different to what you’ve seen before!

Summer sunset from behind the castle. I was happy to allow the highlights to get blown out here because I wanted some of the detail in the shadows of the castle.
Canon 5D Mark III
Canon EF 24-105 mm 1:4.0 L IS USM @47mm
1/160 sec at f6.3
ISO 200
A moody summer sunset. Compare the angle of the sun here with the winter sunset two shots below – the difference is massive!
DJI Phantom 4 Pro
1/30 sec at f3.5
ISO 100
Pink castle, pink sky. I took this shot from the bridge where the Neckar level is regulated to allow for ships to head upstream.
Canon 5D Mark III
Canon EF 24-105 mm 1:4.0 L IS USM  @65mm
1/60 sec at f4
ISO 320
– In hindsight, I should have bumped up the ISO here and used a faster shutter speed, especially with the focal length at 65mm. On close inspection there is a little camera shake involved.
Here you can see the difference in the position of the sun between winter and summer. Also you’ll notice how much cooler the sunset looks in winter.
DJI Phantom 4 Pro
This is a composite of 5 shots ranging from 1/8 – 1/50 sec at f7.1
ISO 100
– I’m not completely sold on the merits of HDR merging but I did like the way this turned out. There’s still a bit of lost detail in the highlights but I actually prefer that, otherwise it looks like a proper HDR shot. That hasn’t been cool for at least a decade now.
This shot was taken during the same flight as the previous shot. There’s nothing spectacular about the light, but I like the minimalism and the fact that the clouds match the colour of the castle.
DJI Phantom 4 Pro
Also a composite of 5 shots ranging from 1/10 – 1/60 sec at f4.5
ISO 100

Leave a comment to let me know what your favourite shot(s) are and if any of the information I’ve provided is helpful!

Some of these photographs are available in my Print Store, but to enquire about purchasing the others as prints of digital reproduction please send me an email!

January 13, 2019 1 comment
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Santiago del Teide Tenerife
Photography

5 Things You Didn’t Know About Tenerife

by Paul November 7, 2018
written by Paul

Tenerife is the largest of the Canary Islands, a Spanish Archipelago off the coast of Morocco. The island is infamous for being a tropical – lay by the pool and do nothing for a week – resort destination. But it doesn’t have to be. I’ve visited twice this year and discovered that there is so much more to this dramatic, volcanic paradise. My own impressions of Tenerife couldn’t be further from that cliche.

So for those of you picturing a beach full of stranded whales, mostly of British descent, pints of Fosters balanced on their sunburnt stomachs, let me paint you another picture of Tenerife.

 

Tenerife Is Wild

 

tenerife sunrise overlooking la gomera

 

First off, I’m a photographer. So forget the poolside cocktails, I love Tenerife because of its incredible landscape. But what really gets me going is the visual diversity. Every turn you make on Tenerife offers up a completely new perspective. From remote villages and endless banana plantations to volcanic peaks and North American-looking pine forests. 

When I first considered a trip to Tenerife I pictured sandy white beaches, palm trees and snorkel-friendly turquoise waters. But Tenerife is wild. Sure, you’ll find beaches and palm trees, but the coastline is more New Zealand than New Caledonia. Steep cliffs plunge into the Atlantic as the steady flow of breakers creates a curtain of mist, which lingers until dramatically capturing each day’s last light.

If you head inland the elevation increases rapidly as you navigate some of Earth’s most winding roads. Within a few minutes, you’ll be in a forest that’s enveloped in a veil of cloud – some 1500m above sea level. Drive on and you soon exceed 2000m in elevation and emerge from the cloud into a landscape resembling Mars, dominated at its centre by the ever-present Teide.

If you drive a lap of the island you will, within a few hours, experience the rainforests of the north, the barren desert-like south, snow in the centre and vineyards, forests & cities in between. Surely nowhere else can boast that kind of wild and compact diversity.

 

tenerife landscapetenerife aerial benijo beachteide national park tenerife

 

The Food and Wine Scene Is Amazing

 

vineyards on tenerife

 

You’ve probably never considered Tenerife specifically for a culinary getaway. Understandable. A few hours of wandering the resort packed south of Tenerife exposed me to foods with all the sophistication (and flavour) of a wet cardboard box. But, as in any destination, you need to escape the tourist masses to discover the real flavours. I mean, even in Italy it’s easy to find horrible pizza if you spend all your time amongst the crowds. So get out into the more traditional parts of the island and you’ll discover some unique, delicious foods and a rich history of wine production.

Traditional dishes include rabbit, goat stew and of course plenty of fresh seafood. Accompanying almost every dish are papas arrugadas and the Canarian speciality “Mojo” sauce. Papas Arrugadas are potatoes boiled with the skin on and a generous helping of salt. Mojo sauce is either red or green and made up of garlic, peppers, onion, olive oil, vinegar and chillies. I was lucky enough to visit Bodegas Monje (a 5th generation winery and restaurant in Tenerife’s north) and receive a Mojo making masterclass, after which I sat down to delicious local wines and the best pulled pork I’ve ever eaten. 

While you’ve probably never seen a Tenerifeian wine on the shelf of your local supermarket, Tenerife has had a booming wine industry since the days of Shakespear – who apparently was a big fan. The fertile volcanic soil and generous sunshine make for perfect grape growing conditions. But the islands size and topography mean production is limited, hence the lack of mass-exports. On the flip side, that means they don’t waste their time producing rubbish. I’m no connoisseur, but I do love a good drop of red, and this was up there with some of the best I’ve tasted.

I can’t write about my food experiences in Tenerife and not mention Arepas. Arepas are a traditional Venezuelan food that can be found in almost any local bar or cafe on Tenerife. They became popular because of the two-way migration that has been going on between the Canary Islands and Venezuela (sometimes referred to as the 8th Island) for generations. Made from ground corn, the breads are then deep fried then sliced open and served like delicious little burgers; with meat, chicken, avocado – or whatever you want – inside. Not to be missed!

 

papas arrugadas tenerifemojo sauce tenerifetenerife wine

 

 

Tenerife has the Best Weather in the World

 

benijo beach sunset tenerife

 

Tenerife is sometimes referred to as the ‘Land of Eternal Spring’, and for good reason. Regardless of the time of year, Tenerife is never too hot nor too cold; average temperatures range from about 18-28 degrees year round. Regulated by the cool currents of the Atlantic, the island is one of the places on earth with the lowest difference between average high and low temperatures. At least at sea level. Head uphill a bit and it goes from speedos to ski jackets real quick. It may be the tropics, but in “winter” there’s a permanent white cap on the centre of the Island.

The height of the Teide also contributes to a number of microclimates. Aside from altitude, this is most noticeable between the north and south of Tenerife, with the north receiving 73 per cent of the island’s rain – despite being less than 100km away. No doubt the reason most tourists never leave the south and miss out on the beautiful and moody northern rainforests.

But you can be forgiven for wanting to visit Tenerife only to experience perfect sunshine. Having lived in Europe for a year I now understand the need to escape the misery of winter and relax on a beach.

 

tenerife beach puerto de la cruzbanana plantations tenerifeswimming pools tenerife

 

 

It’s Spain, but with Its Own Flavour

 

Tenerife villages Benijo

 

As a Spanish colony since the 15th century, Tenerife is dotted with cities and small, colourful villages with a very Spanish feel to them. However, isolated from the mainland and with close ties to Latin America, the Canaries have also developed some cultural and linguistic differences from mainland Spain.

Many Islanders’ joined expeditions to help Spain populate the New World, most notably in Venezuela and Cuba. Many of the relatives have since returned to Tenerife, bringing their way of life and Latin American influences with them. These are evident in the music, food, and the Spanish language in the Canaries. 

The architecture is typically Spanish, but the topography of Tenerife gives some of the towns a very unique look. Many colourful villages are perched on impossibly steep hillsides. Then there’s the famous town of Garachico, rebuilt on the very same lava flow that destroyed it in 1706.

 

 

Icod de Los Vinos TenerifeGarachico TenerifeMasca church Tenerife

 

 

Tenerife Is One of the Biggest Volcanoes on the Planet

 

 

Have you ever considered the thought of being atop a 3718m snow-capped volcano while looking down at a tropical coastline? Teide is the highest point in Spain and one of the biggest volcanoes in the world from its base. You can hike the mountain from the plateau or you can take a cable car up. From the top of the cable car, it’s a steep 160 vertical meters to the peak. But the incredible views across the Atlantic and the other Canary Islands are worth it.

Hiking is popular all around the Teide National Park, but outdoor activities are popular throughout Tenerife. There are hiking trails throughout the rainforests of the north, and an incredible trail from the Masca village down to the ocean. Cycling has become very popular in Tenerife and Mountain biking trails have been built throughout the island’s interior. But if you’re really keen/a biological freak then it seems a popular activity to ride from one side of Tenerife to the other – reaching altitudes of over 2000m in between.

Because of its altitude, clear skies and lack of light pollution, Tenerife is one of the best places in the world to observe the night sky. Guided hikes, stargazing and sunrise tours from the top of the mountain can all be booked through Volcano Teide Experience.

 

 

Teide Tenerife

 

For some more images of Tenerife you can check out my earlier blog 4 Days in Tenerfie!

November 7, 2018 4 comments
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cystic fibrosis cycle across europe
Health

5 Years of Beating Cystic Fibrosis

by Paul August 31, 2018
written by Paul

“But if you’re up there who’s going to take care of you?” That was the response from my doctor the last time I left hospital as an inpatient. It was five years ago in Melbourne. I’d just told him I was moving to Broome, a small tropical town in the North West of Australia with no specialist Cystic Fibrosis care. “That’s the point. In Broome I won’t need looking after.” It probably sounded arrogant but it’s what I genuinely believed, and it turned out to be pretty accurate.

It was the middle of winter and I’d just spent 2 weeks receiving IV antibiotics. A pretty routine experience for someone with Cystic Fibrosis, and one that I’d been through maybe 6 or 7 times before. But this time I’d blown my lowest ever FEV1 (the main indicator of lung health), and I was scared. They say that with CF the lung function should decline by about 1-2% per year. Until that point I’d been stable for about a decade, but this time I was down nearly 10%.

Unwilling (as I always will be) to accept that this was just the natural progression of my disease, I decided that something had to change. So I quit my job and I moved to Broome. 5 years, zero hospital stays and a 20% increase in lung function later, I’m confident I made the right call.

Over time I’ve realised that Melbourne itself wasn’t the problem. It was more the other changes that came along as a result of new circumstances. 

So, with the benefit of hindsight, I made a list. These are the 5 things I believe had the greatest positive impact on my health over the past 5 years:

  • Exercise
  • Avoiding winter
  • Getting a lot of fresh/salty air
  • Having passion and ambition (outside of CF)
  • Being Busy

I’ll elaborate a little:

Exercise

Cystic fibrosis cycle across europe

Promoting exercise as a way of dealing with Cystic Fibrosis was the main motivation for my cycle across Europe in 2016. I cycled 4,000km solo through 11 countries in 6 weeks. My health has never been better.

 

Exercise was always the go-to for me, so this isn’t a recent development. I attribute my good health growing up to the fact that I was a very active kid (among other things). But there have been times when I’ve slumped and my motivation levels have flatlined. In Melbourne I was working late nights in bar. The work was fun but my exercise routine and sleep patterns were all over the place, or non-existent. I’ve always enjoyed working out or running in the evenings, but this wasn’t possible with my work hours. And after working late I was hardly motivated to get up and do anything early the next day. 

So I made the simple decision that I wouldn’t work nights anymore. My routine may not be perfect and I’m not always consistent, but I seem to have that base level of muscle memory. Especially when it comes to running. If I feel that I’m coming down with a chest infection, my first instinct isn’t to visit the doctor or down a load of antibiotics. My first instinct is to put on my worn out Nike’s and head out the door. Sometimes it’s incredibly hard and I come up with plenty of excuses to avoid it. But, ultimately, I know it’s what I’m going to do. What I have to do. And I’m never more motivated and pumped than when I’ve just smashed out a run I didn’t want to start in the first place. Not to mention how much better it makes me feel physically.

 

Avoiding Winter

 

Cystic Fibrosis winter in germany

 

Until the start of the year I would have put this one right at the top of the list. I attributed a lot more of my good health to warm weather than I would now (I’ve just endured my coldest winter ever here in Germany without a single issue). Before this European winter my last winter was 2013 – in Melbourne.

Looking back, though, all but one of my previous hospital stays were in winter. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots there. Undoubtably I feel more energised in the warmer months, and sunny days are far better at seducing me into outdoor activities. Also, being outdoors more has the additional bonus of reducing your exposure to the bugs that other people carry.

In future I won’t head into winter with the same sense of dread, but I will still avoid it completely if possible. At the very least I plan on settling down somewhere where winter is a bit less wintery.

 

Fresh Salty Air

 

5 years of beating cystic fibrosis

 

I first visited Broome in 2011. I remember it well because before arriving I’d been feeling sick. So sick that I was thinking I’d probably need to fly straight to Perth for a hospital visit. But, no exaggeration, the day I arrived – a full day of beach, sun and fresh salty air – I felt amazing. Maybe it was coincidental, but that effect was permanently etched into my mind. So, naturally, Broome was my first choice when it came to escaping the Melbourne winter. I lived there over the winters (Broome has no real winter) for the following few years, before staying permanently until 2017.

Warm weather aside, there’s a lot to be said for the healing properties of the beach and it’s salty air. Maybe it’s a personal thing – I almost feel some kind of claustrophobia inland or in a big city – but the wide open spaces and the fresh breeze at the beach give me an ability to breathe and think clearly. Then there’s also the medically proven ability of salty air to clear the lungs. In that sense, I was extremely lucky to have a job that required me to be at the beach 6 afternoons per week.

In future, I want to live as close to a beach as possible. But it doesn’t have to be a beach. Even here in Heidelberg, I find that just going outside to walk around for an hour, or even riding my bike to work both have a huge positive impact.

 

Passion and Ambition (Outside of Cystic Fibrosis)

 

5 years of beating cystic fibrosis tenerife

Over the past few years I’ve found passion in photography and combining that with travel.

 

These last two are the big ones, because I firmly believe that good physical health starts in the mind. This is why, even when I was getting the first three right, it sometimes didn’t all come together.

Until the previous few years I’d been very unsure of what I wanted to do with my life. It’s not that I didn’t have any ambition at all, I just didn’t know where to direct it. I spread it around aimlessly and changed my mind on a daily basis.

While working in Sydney I developed a passion for the work I was doing as a Barista. I wanted to learn everything I could, and I wanted to be good at it. Eventually I found that I actually cared about my job and, get this, some days I actually looked forward to it! I’d genuinely not experienced that before.

Then, when I returned to Broome I got lucky with a job photographing camels on Cable Beach. I rediscovered my love for photography and I started to devote a lot of my spare time to it as well. Photography is now a massive motivator and distraction for me. And not just while I’m out there doing it; mind space that used to be set aside for worrying and stressing is now used up dreaming about the places I want to go and the things I want to photograph.

When I had nothing to aim for it was a lot easier to get caught up in thoughts about my health, and I have no doubt that those thoughts physically affected me.

Now on any given day I spend very little time, if any, thinking about Cystic Fibrosis.

 

Being Busy

 

5 years of beating cystic fibrosis cable beach

Working a lot seems to have contributed to my good health. I guess it helps to have a job you love.

 

During the peak seasons in Broome I was working 60-70 hours per week over two jobs. In my spare time I’d be out taking photos, at home editing photos, or out running. I never felt sick. Before I left New Zealand I was working maybe 20 hours per week and I felt sick all the time. It sounds counterintuitive, and a balance needs to be found, but in my experience being constantly on the move seems to help my body stay on top of any potential infections. Being busy also I means I don’t have time to sit around and feel sorry for myself. An obvious mental advantage.

When I moved to Australia I made a point of never telling my employers (and I had many…) that I had Cystic Fibrosis, because I didn’t want the option of using that as an excuse. Also, in Australia I always had casual jobs. This meant that I didn’t get paid for sick days and I could be fired without notice. So being sick wasn’t an option.

It’s not that I have to be working all the time. But having anything else to focus on and distract me just seems to help a lot, and it’s in the down time that I often don’t feel my best.

 

Find Out What Works For You

I often find that there’s a sense of inevitability within the Cystic Fibrosis bubble. I know I’m in a relatively privileged position, though I won’t say lucky. Lucky is being born without CF, or any illness at all. I still have my stuff to deal with. I just realise that for many people Cystic Fibrosis was a dominant force in their lives from a very young age. But I still think we have the ability to dictate terms to Cystic Fibrosis more than we are led to believe.

During my first ever hospital stay (as a 12 year old) a nurse said to me “Oh, this is your first stay? I guess we’ll be seeing you more regularly from now on. You’ll also need a Portacath soon.” I had no idea what a Portacath was and I haven’t needed one to this day.

This is what I mean by inevitability. There was no malice in what that nurse said, just failure to consider that I could go on to have a normal life. Comments like that can instil such unnecessary negativity, and for what possible benefit? It was based on previous experience and education I’m sure, but there’s no hope, or faith, or imagination – whatever you want to call it. Not to mention encouragement. It’s the same as a doctor once explaining to me that my lung function could never improve, while showing me a graph of my lung function improving. And why, when I explained that in Broome I wouldn’t need taking care of, the doctor in Melbourne thought I was a fool.

This is by no means an anti-doctor post. I have full respect for the medical community and I’ve had a great relationship with most of my doctors. I still pop handfuls of pills on a daily basis and I can’t deny the positive effects of Hypertonic Saline. But I don’t think there’s a ‘one size fits all’ solution to CF. You’ve gotta take what you can from doctors and medicine, but work out your own way of dealing with it too.

August 31, 2018 30 comments
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Photography

Four Seasons in Heidelberg

by Paul July 13, 2018
written by Paul

“You’re from New Zealand and you moved here?”

 

My awful German inevitably leads to this question on an almost daily basis. It’s asked in way that suggests Germans feel obliged to inform me that, actually, I was much better off staying home. I don’t fully understand this reaction. Sure, New Zealand is beautiful and we can even go shopping on Sundays if we want. But Germany isn’t all sauerkraut, terrible weather and funny leather pants; the country is filled with history, culture, and some incredible scenery of its own.

 

Heidelberg autumn

Autumn colour in the hills above Heidelberg. This is the Odenwald, which you can reach by walking along the famous Philosophenweg.

LIFE IN GERMANY

 

Heidelberg altstadt

Heidelberg Altstadt and the Neckar river viewed from Philosophenweg. Surely this is one of the most beautiful cities in Europe.

 

Recently I celebrated one year of living in Germany. Aside from a daily frustration with the Germans’ lack of queueing etiquette, and the inability to pay by card at will (they are very suspicious of technology), I love it here. So much so that I’ve even taken a liking to sparkling water – the default version of water here. All I need is a decent beach and I’ll happily stay forever.

I think there’s an old fashioned stereotype that paints the Germans as serious, even a little cold. Sure, they do love structure and rules here, and sometimes their brutal honesty catches me off guard. But Germans are some of the most friendly and accommodating people out there. During my time backpacking around Australia, it was often the Germans who I found the most fun and the easiest to get along with. Everyone I meet seems to have a genuine curiosity about where I’m from and how I like it here, and they are all incredibly patient towards foreigners who at least have a go at learning their language.

 

Heidelberg neckar river sunset

The Neckar winding its way past Heidelberg and towards Mannheim.

 

How did I end up in Heidelberg?

 

Schloss (Castle) Heidelberg. The most iconic building in Heidelberg and one of the most famous castles in Germany.

 

Long story short:

In 2016 I cycled across Europe (from France to Romania) to raise funds and awareness for Cystic Fibrosis. Along the way I met a German girl who studies here in Heidelberg. Soon after returning to Australia I quit my job and decided to return to Europe and have a go at living the German dream.

Heidelberg is an incredibly beautiful city of around 150,000 people. It’s home to Germany’s oldest university (1386) and about 40,000 students. The old town is one of the major tourist attractions in Germany – and I live right in the middle of it. Coming from a country where 100 year old buildings are rare and marvelled at it’s sometimes hard to comprehend the fact that the castle out my window is from the year 1214. Needless to say I’ve spent a lot of time out and about photographing the city and it’s surroundings.

 

Heidelberg altstadt from above

Heidelberg Altstadt and the Church of the Holy Spirit.

 

 

The German Seasons

Heidelberg koenigstuhl

Sunrise over the snow coated trees on Königstuhl – the highest point in Heidelberg

 

Even though Heidelberg is in the warmest region of Germany, one of the major differences I’ve noticed here is the dramatic change between seasons. Ok, so I lived in Broome for the previous few years where it’s either hot and dry, or hotter and wet. But even compared to New Zealand the four seasons here are incredibly distinct. Summer days are long and hot, with sunrise just after 5 and sunset at around 9.30. Winter days, although mild by European standards, are short and, well, fresh! I had to buy my first ever genuine winter jacket, and for a few weeks there I basically tried not to leave the house if I could get away with it. The weather in Autumn and Spring is mild but unpredictable, an added bonus being I can usually move along the main street without being steamrolled by a Chinese tour group. Also, Because Heidelberg is surrounded by forest, these seasons are full of amazing colour.

 

Heidelberg autumn colour

Autumn colour in the hills behind the city.

 

Here’s a few more of my favourite shots from the past year:

 

Heidelberg old bridge from above

The famous Old Bridge across the Neckar.

 

Heidelberg fog

Early morning fog shrouds the city. As Heidelberg in situated at the end of a narrow valley, this is a common sight in between seasons.

 

Heidelberg castle sunset

Sunset from behind the castle.

 

Heidelberg city view

A view of the city from Theodor-Heuss Bridge.

 

Heidelberg snow

“It never snows in Heidelberg” – So I was told multiple times in the lead up to winter. This was one of about 5 big snowfalls. While I’m not big fan of the cold, I do love snow!

 

Heidelberg altstadt

Classic view of the Altstadt, Castle and the Old Bridge.

 

Heidelberg altstadt

I love all the colour in the Altstadt. If you want to avoid the tourists, get out and explore early in the morning – you’ll have the streets to yourself!

 

Heidelberg drone sunset

Sunset over the city from Königstuhl.

 

Heidelberg forest snow

While snowfall coating the city is apparently rare, the hills above do get a regular coating.

photographer on cable beach

ABOUT PAUL MICHAEL

PHOTOGRAPHER | TRAVELLER | CYSTIC FIBROSIS ADVOCATE

New Zealand born and currently living in Germany, I developed my photographic style on the beaches of Western Australia. I have a passion for people, travel and the natural world, and I’m constantly seeking the perfect light. Take a look at the About page to find out my story.

July 13, 2018 7 comments
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dry season cable beach
Photography

Is Broome the Most Beautiful Beach Town in Australia?

by Paul April 17, 2018
written by Paul
blue camels cable beach broome

The incredible camel rides on Cable Beach with Broome Camel Safaris

 

BROOME, WESTERN AUSTRALIA’S HIDDEN TROPICAL OASIS

 

Broome is a well kept secret. Until I started a road trip in that direction 7 years ago, I’d never heard of this seaside paradise. People often ask me where I lived in Australia, but give me a strange look – as if I’ve misunderstood the question – when I reply. But it’s remoteness and the fact it remains so unknown are probably major contributors to Broome’s appeal. Broome, to me, is the most stunning and incredible place in Australia. Here’s why:

 

THE BROOME DOME

Cable beach lightning strike broome

Lightning strikes just off the coast of Cable Beach.

It’s a legal requirement that you download at least three weather apps before you set foot in Broome. In fact nowhere on earth will you find such a concentrated population of weather experts, all with their own interpretations of the rain radar or the dragonfly-per-cubic-meter ratio. Which is strange, because for 8 months of the year Broome has no weather. I’ll sum up the forecast for April to November right now: Sunny and 30-35 degrees. Every day.

Of course there’s the Wet Season, though. But don’t be fooled into thinking that means rain. No, it just refers to the sweaty state of your clothing for four months. Coming from New Zealand it was a strange phenomenon to witness the excitement that comes with the prospect of rain, and the disappointment when the rain fails to materialise. But this is the daily reality of Broome’s Wet Season; For these four months it’ll be 35-40 degrees and humid. Like – I’m not embarrassed about my full back sweat stain because everybody has one humid – It’ll still be sunny most of the time and there will be huge cloud build-ups and epic lightning storms most afternoons. But these storms are just a visual spectacle; the rain only provides relief to those on the outside of the “Broome Dome”.

Trust me, though, the visual spectacle is worth it!

 

broome storm lightning strike

A regular wet season storm seen from Gantheaume Point.

 

 

CABLE BEACH

cable beach broome

Not hard to avoid the crowds at Cable Beach.

Cable Beach isn’t all camels, hippie backpackers and naked old people, there’s also 22km of pristine white sand! In all seriousness, the first thing I did when I got to Broome after that road trip was park up at Cable Beach and dive into the water; I’ve had an unhealthy obsession with the place ever since. The turquoise water ranges from about 24 – 30 degrees year round, and you can either find a spot between the flags or wander a bit further and have plenty of beach to yourself. Best option is to drive anywhere north of the rocks and find a lonely spot to park your Land Cruiser. There you can crack open an Emu Export and watch the world (aka camels and naked men) go by. 

If you do drive on to the beach just remember to check the tides. The tidal variation in Broome is one of the most extreme on the planet – up to 10m in variation at times! It’s not uncommon for tourists to park up and go for a swim, only to return and find the Indian Ocean where their car used to be. 

The great thing about swimming at Cable Beach is that most days you can relax in the knowledge you probably won’t be eaten or poisoned. This makes it safer than 90 percent of Australia. Sure there’s the occasional Croc sighting or Irukandji sting, but in reality Cable Beach is incredibly safe. As far as I’m aware there’s never been a shark (or crocodile) attack, and in the time I lived in Broome I only ever heard of a handful of jellyfish stings. Just don’t go swimming in any of the nearby creeks. 

 

cable beach camels from above

Cable Beach camels from above.

 

 

 

BEST SUNSETS IN THE WORLD

cable beach sunset broome

A low-tide sunset at Cable Beach.

Of course I can’t write about Broome without mentioning the sunsets. Often when something is so talked-up the reality can be a little underwhelming. This wasn’t the case with the Broome sunsets. Day after day the sky lights up in colours you’ve only previously imagined. I was there basically every afternoon for three years and I can recall very few occasions when I wasn’t completely blown away.

Hot tip: The sunsets in the Wet Season are generally more spectacular with all that extra cloud around. For some epic reflections time your trip to coincide with extreme low-tides at sunset!

 

cable beach camels sunset broome

The famous sunset camel ride along Cable Beach.

 

 

BROOME’S LANDSCAPE

roebuck bay broome

An outgoing tide in Roebuck bay.

If there’s somewhere on earth that can make an average photographer look good it’s Broome, which is lucky for me. Often it would require a lot of skill to take a bad photograph. The landscape, colours and contrasts are just ridiculous. It’s not hard to see why Broome quickly became a hotspot for drone photography. With the pure white sand of Cable Beach to the broken red rocks of Gantheaume Point and hardly believable water colour of Roebuck Bay, it sometimes feels like you’re on another planet. An observation that is best made from the air.

 

gantheaume point from above

The rugged Gantheaume Point from above.

 

 

 GATEWAY TO THE KIMBERLEY

berkeley river the kimberley

Early morning on the Berkeley River in the Kimberley.

The Kimberley is one of the most remote, untouched and vast regions on the planet. It’s hard to describe just how vast and remote, but I’ll give it a go: With an area of 427,513 square kilometres it’s three times the size of England and has a population of around 35,000. Broome is the big city and gateway to this region, although Broome only has 15,000 residents and is more than 2,000km from Perth, the state capital. Perth itself is one of the most isolated major cities on the planet.

During an 11 day cruise from Broome to Wyndham I barely scratched the surface of what lies out there, but what I have seen was mind blowing. The whitest sand you can imagine, more waterfalls than you can count, world class fishing and of course the incomparable Horizontal Falls.

Tip: The horizontal falls day trip isn’t the cheapest attraction in town, but it’s not ranked number one on Tripadvisor for nothing. The views are ridiculous and the experience is like no other. To quote my Dad, who’s spent the last few years travelling to Europe, North & South America and has seen much of Australia & New Zealand: “I’ve seen some incredible places, but this is right at the top of the list.”

 

horizontal falls broome

The incredible Horizontal Falls.

 

Many of these images are available for purchase in the Print Store!

photographer on cable beach

ABOUT PAUL MICHAEL

PHOTOGRAPHER | TRAVELLER | CYSTIC FIBROSIS ADVOCATE

New Zealand born and currently living in Germany, I developed my photographic style on the beaches of Western Australia. I have a passion for people, travel and the natural world, and I’m constantly seeking the perfect light. Take a look at the About page to find out my story.

April 17, 2018 10 comments
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tenerife sunset blog
Photography

4 Days in Tenerife

by Paul March 13, 2018
written by Paul

Tenerife: Incredible Landscapes Perfect Weather and Spanish Charm

 

Before my girlfriend suggested Tenerife as a quick holiday spot I knew very little about the Island. Aside from the fact that it was warmer and cheaper than Germany, therefore probably full of Germans. Bingo.

But the natural beauty of Tenerife caught me by surprise. Tenerife is a tropical island with a (3718m) snow-capped volcano right in the middle of it. The jagged coastline is full of stunning black-sand beaches and dotted with quaint villages, and the varying altitude means that the climate literally changes with every kilometre you drive.

Sure it’s touristy and a little tacky in places, but the island has retained a lot of it’s Spanish charm, and the landscape is unparalleled. We hired a car to get around (do) – a Fiat 500 wagon (don’t). From what we’d read beforehand I expected the roads to be horrific. They are steep, windy and narrow for sure, but provided you’re a semi-competent and confident driver it’s no biggie. I’ve seen a lot worse in New Zealand and to be honest the Fiat was my biggest concern.

Anyone who knows me well will agree that I seem to find myself in situations that aren’t ideal on a regular basis. It turns out Daria is the same, and together we make an ultimate team. On day two we got up before sunrise to drive an hour and catch the first cable car up the Teide. Too windy – closed for the day. Lets hike the Masca valley! Closed – Germans got stuck there last week. But, amongst cancelled airport trains, an unplanned 3 hour scenic view of the tarmac in Seville, watching our car get towed past us as we carried our gear to it, and catching the flu, we still managed to have an epic time.

I also took a few snaps, so I’ll let the pictures do the rest of the talking.

(Title image now available in the Print Store)

 

Puerto De La Cruz, our home for 4 nights. Population around 30,000. The city lively and packed full of restaurants, though still small enough to get around on foot.

 

The Atlantic pounding the rocks of Punta Brava. Not the Idyllic turquoise water beach scenes you expect from a tropical Island, but I’d take pumping surf any day.

 

Did I mention that the Fiat 500L was a mistake? Not because it struggled, just because it was embarrassingly ugly and no fun to drive on roads like this. While there are endless corners and hills on Tenerife, the roads are actually in pretty good condition. If anything we were surprised at how slow and cautious most other drivers were. If you’ve ever driven around New Zealand you’ll be sweet.

 

The drive from the main city, Santa Cruz, across north of Tenerife to Benijo was epic. I can’t stress the value of having your own transport enough. I think we paid 12 Euro per day plus an optional 60 Euro for full insurance, so it’s cheap! And getting around without a car would have been a nightmare.

 

Sunset over La Gomera, the second smallest of the Canary Islands. This was the view from Piscina Natural (natural pool) in Los Gigantes.

 

Pico del Teide, 3718m. Highest point in Spain and the third highest volcano in the world (highest if you exclude the Hawaiian Islands, which we don’t. So third it is). We didn’t get to go to the peak, but the views from the top of the road were still epic.

 

Los Gigantes (The Giants). These cliffs rise up to 800m in places and make for some pretty incredible viewing. More significantly, this is where I swam in the Atlantic for the very first time.

 

The view from our apartment in Puerto de la Cruz. It seems like each apartment building here was built without taking any of the neighbouring apartments into consideration. It’s a complete mess, but it comes together beautifully.

 

Benijo Beach was the most recommended destination for sunset, and it was beautiful. But if you want to see the sun setting over the ocean this would be a better spot in the summer months.

 

Last light in Benijo.

 

Plaza del Charco, Puerto de la Cruz. Completely surrounded by restaurants and cafe’s, this part of town comes to life at night.

 

Apparently the only golden sand beach on Tenerife is the one near Santa Cruz – Playa de Las Teresitas. Although that sand is actually stolen from the Sahara. Anyway, the black volcanic sand reminds me a lot of the beaches on the West Coast of New Zealand. I’m a fan, until I have to walk across it on a hot day. Pack some extra thick jandals.

 

Playa de Benijo from above.

March 13, 2018 21 comments
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Cycle touring

Cycle for Cystic Fibrosis

by Paul February 18, 2018
written by Paul

Cystic Fibrosis & My Inspiration

 

Two years ago I didn’t even own a bike, in fact I probably hadn’t even sat on one for the 15 years before that. I’ve never been a big fan of cycling, partly because bike pants creep me out, but mostly because my legs are more built for sitting in cars. Most girls are jealous of my legs. But for some reason, late in 2015, I found myself unable to sleep and becoming increasingly obsessed with the idea of riding a bike across Europe.

At the time I was nearing the end of my 20’s. While the idea of turning 30 may fill most people with dread, it was a much anticipated occasion for me. Not because I like finding new grey hairs on a daily basis, but because of a Readers’ Digest article I read when I was 12. This particular article was about Cystic Fibrosis and it told me that I could expect to live to 30, if I was lucky. Until that point I don’t think it had dawned on me that what I had was so serious, or permanent. But at that young age I made a decision that, not only was I going to live past 30, I was going to do something significant to mark the occasion.

 

Cycling Across Europe

 

paul michael cycle for cystic fibrosis eurovelo 6

The Eurovelo 6 route.

 

I spent the few months after that sleepless night planning, saving and fundraising, and on August 18 2016 I found myself at the start of the Eurovelo 6 cycle trail in Nantes, France. I was feeling very apprehensive on day one, probably because my ‘training’ had consisted of three rides around Broome on a little girls’ bike. This occasionally involved the humiliation of being overtaken by actual little girls on their bikes. But, after a few obligatory selfies, I made a start and after a few hours I had 50km behind me and I’d arrived in Ancenis, stop number one.

 

On day two I managed 80km before setting up my tent for the night. That was to remain my daily average for the next two months as I followed the Loire River throughout the French countryside, the Rhine through Switzerland, then met up with the Danube in Germany. I stayed alongside the Danube as it grew and lazily twisted through Austria, Slovakia, Hungary, Croatia, Serbia, Bulgaria and to it’s mouth at the Black Sea in Romania. Eleven countries and 4,000km in all.

 

I cycled with my 20kg of luggage through major cities such as Vienna, Budapest and Belgrade, through the quaint villages of France, past Europe’s largest waterfall in Switzerland and even picked up a girlfriend in Germany. I rode past thousand year old castles, through stunning river valleys and vast fields of corn. The over seemingly endless hills and across the borders of countries that were not so long ago at war with each other.

 

The Challenges

 

paul michael cycle for cystic fibrosis

My first, and only, puncture. Picked this up on a busy highway into Belgrade, Serbia.

 

I faced challenges such as getting lost on a regular basis (at times cycling up to 20km in the wrong direction), the constantly changing languages and (I’m sorry Europe) awful coffee. Then there were the rough and crazy roads as I got further East, not to mention the crazy drivers! At the beginning of my trip I cramped up in the 40 degree French heat, but later on I froze in the Bulgarian Autumn rain.

 

Beating Cystic Fibrosis with Exercise

 

Riding through a war-damaged town on the Croatian side of the Croatia-Serbia border.

 

I usually try not to worry so much about Cystic Fibrosis on a daily basis, but I’ll admit that I was nervous at the beginning. I was half expecting a nasty infection somewhere in the back-blocks of Eastern Europe. But I can’t remember a two month period where I’ve had consistently better health. Even on the days I woke up feeling a little rough the fact that I had no choice but to get on the bike meant that I was forced to push through. Within an hour I’d usually forgotten about it and was feeling great again. This, aside from raising over $20,000 for CFWA and the desire for bigger legs, was the real reason for my trip. I wanted to prove, as much to myself as to anyone else, the importance that remaining physically active plays in fighting Cystic Fibrosis. I’m now more convinced than ever.

 

 

 

Trip Stats!

Total days spent cycling: 50

Total Distance: +/- 4,000km ( my trip computer died for a few days in Germany, so I’m not sure of the exact distance)

Average per day: 80km

Biggest day: 136km – Tata to Budapest, Hungary.

Most physically challenging day: Konstanz – Sigmiragen, Germany.

Average speed: 15.7 km/ph

Max Speed: 61.6 km/ph – racing Maurizio down a hill in Serbia somewhere.

Punctures: 1 – heading in to Belgrade in the rain.

Crashes: 1 – near Dole, France. My front rack collapsed and stopped the front wheel dead. Also I did forget to unclip my shoes and tip over a few times.

Money Raised for Cystic Fibrosis WA: $21,000

 

Heres a few photos from the trip…

 

Cystic fibrosis cycle regensburg

Taking shelter from a storm near Regensburg, Germany. The first of the real bad weather that I encountered. Regen means rain in German, so it figures…

 

Cystic fibrosis cycle paul michael

Couldn’t cycle through Germany and miss Oktoberfest!

 

cystic fibrosis cycle paul michael

Crossing the border from Hungary into Croatia. This was just a couple of hours before I got lost in the dark with no light and had wild Deer stampeding around me. In my mind they were running from Bears and Wolves, of course.

 

cystic fibrosis cycle paul michael

Happy days crossing the Danube at the border between Croatia and Serbia.

 

cystic fibrosis cycle paul michael

Baguettes for breakfast in France.

 

cystic fibrosis cycle paul michael

Found a can and hubcap graveyard in the Bulgarian hills. Lovely place for a lunch break on one of my toughest days.

 

paul michael cycle cystic fibrosis

Sunset over the Danube in Melk, Austria.

 

paul michael cycle for cystic fibrosis

Budapest at night. My biggest day of cycling ended with one of the most spectacular city scenes I’ve come across.

 

paul michael cycle for cystic fibrosis

Putting on a brave face while drinking some lovely Swiss hostel espresso. Just hours before I crossed into Germany.

 

paul michael cycle for cystic fibrosis konstanz

German summers on the Lake of Constance.

 

paul michael cycle for cystic fibrosis

Sunsets in the French countryside.

 

horse and cart romania paul michael cycle for cystic fibrosis

Romanian traffic conditions.

 

paul michael cycle for cystic fibrosis serbia

Lunch break with a few Serbian locals.

 

paul michael cycle for cystic fibrosis

Being presented with the 2017 Cystic Fibrosis Community Fundraiser award by Sir Peter Cosgrove in Sydney.

February 18, 2018 0 comment
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cystic fibrosis cycle across europe
Cycle touring

The Final Stage

by Paul February 5, 2018
written by Paul

SILISTRA - CONSTANTA

I had vivid images of how I’d celebrate when I finally saw the Black Sea. I’d settled on the idea that it would be really satisfying and cool to rip my shirt open in a burst of adrenaline. But when the moment came it was a little less dramatic than that; celebrating by yourself is strange, plus it was cold and I don’t have many shirts or money to buy new shirts. Although I suspect the real reason was my fear that I wouldn’t actually be strong enough to rip my shirt and I’d erase all the self-esteem I’d built up over the previous two months. In the end I was content with a deep breath of sea air, a couple of selfies and a cold beer in an Irish pub creatively named ‘Irish Pub’.

 

constanta eurovelo 6

A colourful welcome into the Black Sea city of Constanta

It’s hard to believe, but it’s already been three weeks since I completed the ride. I now find myself back in Broome in my old place and sitting in the same spot I sat in during the planning stages of the trip. It’s very cliche, but it honestly feels like I never left. The last three months, while being some of the most memorable of my life, are now a complete blur. Although I’m still having to fight the urge to pick up my phone and check the distance for tomorrow’s ride or a cheap hotel for the next night, and when people speak to me it takes a few seconds to register that it’s English, I do understand, and I am expected to reply rather than nod, smile and revert to hand-gestures. As comforting as it is to be home and to have the security of a job and incoming funds, the thought of getting back into my old routine fills me with a strange sense of emptiness. I’m already trying to work out how long it will be before I can head off somewhere again.

 

Crossing into Romania

 

silistra border crossing eurovelo 6

My final border crossing – Silistra, Bulgaria into Romania.

 

My final morning of cycling in Bulgaria was brief, as the border was literally through the middle of Silistra, so after about ten minutes I found myself in Romania dodging horse-drawn carts and Gypsies (there were nearly as many horse drawn carts as there were cars in rural Romania). With rolling hills, endless vineyards and patches of forrest with golden leaves, the countryside was visually quite stunning, but while riding through this isolated natural beauty the fact that Romania is home to 50 percent of Europe’s wild Bear population kept popping back into my mind, so I didn’t pause too often to take it in. I’d read that this part of the route was going to be most challenging because of the cobbled road surface, but this never eventuated and the recently paved roads were, surprisingly, some of the best quality since Austria, except that they were lined with litter and dead animals. Some of the villages I passed through were genuine slums where the ground had been trampled into mud and hillside caves were a legitimate accomodation option. Speaking of dead animals: having just committed the fatal faux pas of admitting to not loving all dogs in my last entry, I was forced to rethink my thoughts on the matter within minutes of crossing in to the final country of my trip. The dogs in Romania were seriously malnourished and timid – I went from fearing them to sympathising with them. I passed one particularly miserable looking dog as he walked up a hill along the centre line and as trucks passed by within centimetres of him he didn’t even flinch. I spent a few minutes trying to coax him to the side of the road, but every time I moved on he returned to where he had been. He wouldn’t even look up when I tried to call him and his body language suggested he didn’t want any help. That’s when it dawned on me that all the roadkill was more likely suicide than a series of impossibly frequent accidents.

 

horse and cart romania eurovelo 6

Local traffic

My first night in Romania I ended up in Adamclici, a run-down village that didn’t have a single place to eat but did have a large, modern and seemingly brand new hotel. The hotel was hidden away down some back streets and when I arrived there were two identical BMW X5’s parked out the front. I don’t know a lot about the Romanian mafia, but this place reeked of dodgy business. I walked in the entrance and found a dark, abandoned reception area and rang the bell a few times before a woman appeared in front of me. Obviously I was an inconvenience to her, and she had no qualms making that clear to me, which, as far as I was concerned, provided further evidence that the place wasn’t built with money made in the hospitality industry. She pointed to a plaque on the wall which displayed the price for a night then shrugged her shoulders and turned back to me with a look that said ‘I know you can’t afford that, you scruffy piece of shit’. This process was repeated several times before I showed her some cold, hard Romanian leu and received a key in exchange. It probably goes without saying that I was the only other person staying there, and the walk through the dark hallways to find my room felt like the opening scene of a horror movie.

 

constanta eurovelo 6

Less than 100km to go!

 

The next morning I woke before my alarm for the first time on the trip. I got up excitedly and went through the process of repacking my bags and tucking my pants into my socks one last time. Breakfast wasn’t an option in Adamclisi, but I didn’t care because it was the last day and I only had 65 Kilometres to go. I re-stacked my bike and cycled out past what had now turned into three identical X5’s. The cycling was similar to the previous day aside from the final 20 kilometres in to Constanta which were along a busy stretch of highway that, legally, I was probably supposed to avoid. Aside from the clouds parting and the sun shining on me for the first time in a week, the arrival in Constanta was a bit of an anticlimax. Once in the city I wasn’t even sure which direction the Black Sea was in until I finally saw it between two high rises at the end of a street, and when I got there I wasn’t quite sure what to do. I could see straight away that life in Constanta was a world away from the other parts of the country I’d been through; I’ve never seen so many late model European cars, and the people I came across were mostly young, well dressed and spoke english. I made my way to a hotel with a younger woman sitting on the front steps smoking, and without looking up she told me I could park my bike ‘over there’. I obliged, then turned around and asked how she knew I spoke english. She shrugged an ‘I don’t know’ and walked back inside – I’m always curious about what gives this away.

Constanta eurovelo 6

Breakfast with the locals

I made the mistake of thinking that the adventure was over by this point and as a result I was massively unprepared for the day I was about to face when I woke the next morning. I had to get back to Sofia where I’d left a bunch of my stuff in the apartment owned by my sister in law’s family, but public transport between Romania and Bulgaria isn’t too regular on a Sunday (I probably should have guessed this would be the case in a strictly orthodox christian part of the world). While I was at the bus station trying to find a way to Bucharest for an overnight train to Sofia, an opportunistic local approached me and told me he could drive me to the Bulgarian border for 200 leu (about 40 Euro). Every instinct was telling me it was a terrible idea and that I shouldn’t trust the guy, but I thought this way might end up quicker and cheaper, so I went for it. We bungy-tied the boot shut with the bike hanging out and headed south. The guy turned out to be decent and along the way he explained how hard it was to get ahead in Romania; how he’s left the country only once and would have to save for another five years to go on holiday again. His dream was to see Barcelona play at Nou Camp one day, something I made a casual decision to do when I happened to be in Barcelona four years ago. Listening to him (and just being in Romania) was another sobering reminder of how good we have it in certain parts of the world, and how much we take for granted. After he dropped me off he told me there was a bus from the Border straight to Varna and then on to Sofia – all I had to do was walk across the border. When I did get across I used google translate to ask the lady at the customs shop about a bus and she confirmed with her own google translate that it came at 1.30pm, but when 2pm came and went I got google out and asked her again and she straight away admitted that sometimes the bus doesn’t come on Sundays. I stared at her and shook my head, then asked google to translate “maybe that would have been useful information two hours ago”. I would have hitched a ride from there but it’s a little difficult with a bike, so I had to take a taxi 100km to Varna and buy a bus ticket there. The bus the driver said I couldn’t take my bike because there was no room but, miraculously, 15 leu created a little extra space and I was finally on my way to Sofia, bike and all.

constanta eurovelo 6

A totally legitimate start to my journey home

After a 7 hour bus ride and another taxi trip, which nearly ended in a fight, I was back at the apartment of my sister in law, whose family were kind (brave) enough to let me have free rein. The taxi ride in question involved the driver getting lost and relying on my directions the whole way, then the fare coming in 20 Lev more expensive than quoted and an extra 10 Lev bike-handling fee, which apparently hadn’t existed at the time of the quote. I initially refused to pay but I changed my mind pretty quickly after he unfolded his 7 foot frame from the drivers’ seat and approached me with clenched fists at his side. As you can probably tell I’ve use the term ‘near fight’ very loosely here.

 

alexander nevsky cathedral sofia

The stunning Alexander Nevsky Cathedral in Sofia, Bulgaria

 

I spent two days in Sofia looking around, getting all my things together and organising to get my bike boxed up for the flight home. My first impression of Sofia two months earlier had been so good that I prepared myself for disappointment upon my return, but once again I immediately picked up a great vibe from the place. For a city of close to two million,  Sofia has such a calm, relaxed feel and is full of markets, cobbled streets and Viennese inspired architecture. I was so relieved to have finished my ride, but waking up in Sofia I found that all I wanted to do was get on my bike and go exploring. So I spent the days cycling through the stunning parks surrounding the city and sampling the many coffee shops.

After all the cycling I wanted to do some travelling as a normal tourist before heading home, so I flew to Germany for 10 days to visit some friends before flying back to Sofia to pick up my bike and taking off for the Southern Hemisphere.

Here’s a few stats from the trip for ya!

Trip Stats

 

Total days spent cycling: 50

Total Distance: +/- 4,000km ( my trip computer died for a few days in Germany, so I’m not sure of the exact distance)

Average per day: 80km

Biggest day: 136km – Tata to Budapest, Hungary.

Most physically challenging day: Konstanz – Sigmiragen, Germany.

Average speed: 15.7 km/ph

Max Speed: 61.6 km/ph – racing Maurizio down a hill in Serbia somewhere.

Punctures: 1 – heading in to Belgrade in the rain.

Crashes: 1 – near Dole, France. My front rack collapsed and stopped the front wheel dead. Also I did forget to unclip my shoes and tip over a few times.

February 5, 2018 0 comment
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Hi, I'm Paul. Photographer, traveller, occasional bike rider, attempted writer and temporary German.

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