The year of my life- Snapshots from a journey of emancipation

UNITED KINGDOM | Monday, 14 January 2013 | Views [238] | View Smaller Image

Curious: Native gulls in North Wales proved the only british wildlife to cooperate with my camera lens. I sat for half an hour with these gulls, bribing them with all varieties of things to lure them closer to my lens. This curious fellow did just that. His place of residence is the strictly welsh speaking town of Caernarfon in North Wales. Across the bay lay the isle on Anglesey. After a while I was persuaded by my travel partner that day to farewell my feathered friends as fellow tourists wondered who the young Australian girl conversing with seagulls was, and why she was paying less attention to the huge stone castle which lay behind her. I got many good photographs of these birds, and I just loved capturing their curiosity and working hard to gain their trust all in pursuit of the perfect shot.

Ghosts of the past: On a cold night in London, a young American and I decided to embark on a spontaneous roadtrip through Wales. Our aim was this- castles and countrysides. We almost drove past Kidwelly castle before we embarked in a drastic U turn and turned off into the tiny town. What we were greeted with exceeded any of our expectations. A colossal structure, the very image of medieval power and might- Kidwelly castle rose from the centre of the town. We paid the little old lady our 3 pounds, and entered across the drawbridge- the only travellers around for miles. With no source of lights, we felt our way through it's underground dungeons, and with a careless recklessness- climbed the rotting stone spiral staircases to the top of the throne room tower. Here we sat, astonished at our height and view, and watched pigeons flee from a church tower as rain approached. It is an eerie photo of an eerie moment. The feeling we experienced as we sat on the crumbling ruins was as if we had been born a thousand years older and that the castle was a possession of our very own. We were not so alone, rather surrounded by the spirits of the past.

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Brighton dreaming: Most people would either be arrested or hospitalised for willingly lying stomach-down on the promenade of stony Brighton beach in freezing wind wind conditions. I had popped out of my hostel quickly in less than weather-appropriate clothing to buy a snack when I saw the sunset approaching. I ran down to the promenade were I came across this puddle, and risking hypothermia, this is where i stayed until the sunset left- clicking away at my camera whilst curious locals and tourists cast me strange looks. Why was she photographing a puddle? Australia was in drought, but had she really been this deprived of rainwater? The result was beautiful, but it took me several cups of tea and a night in bed to bring warmth back to my body. Once again though- it was a moment that inevitably needed to be captured.

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The year of my life- Snapshots from a journey of emancipation

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