Planes, Trains and Rickety Wheels

In The Shade

effyau — Mon, 24 Nov 2014 09:57:30 GMT

I have too much passion to express in words, but i hope given this chance you will see it in my images. During my studies (photojournalism) i realised a desk and computer is not the job ahead of me; i want a career made up of adventure and obstacles, culture shocks and new experiences. Driving my teachers mad as i opted to Skype them from the corners of the world instead of attending lectures i just can't sit back and let the world unfold, without me capturing it first. I have a love for wildlife and i am quickly coming out of my shell after travelling alone. My camera is my companion and so, i'm never lonely. I enjoy capturing emotion and between spontaneous, out of the car window shots, i will take the time to sit and take in a part of where i am, so that my photographs have meaning and relativity. Having a mentor by my side would be invaluable when it comes to the amount of knowledge i could gain. I would take on every bit of information you had to offer and do everything i could to say thank you by producing images you would be happy to say you helped with. I struggle with choosing my images due to doubting myself, but i think my ability to tell a story is something i excel in.

In depth In South Africa

effyau — Fri, 21 Feb 2014 03:28:00 GMT

Its hard to see my dads point when he’s using the word pride to describe how his domestic would be feeling after coming home from work each week with 500 rands, the equivalent of £20. Baring in mind she does two full days of cleaning, I don’t really think pride is what she’s leaving with. However after he explained the unemployment rate and I’ve seen first hand how people live here, I guess a job is a job. I was shocked to find out that not only do they have a maid, which as women, I disagree with because why you can’t clean your house is beyond me but they have gardeners who come to all the houses in the complex.

There’s a lot of begging, street stalls and people selling between busy traffic, but I was not expecting any of these people to be white! Stood between stationary cars at a junction, two white men, both middle aged, holding signs that tell of their unemployment and low standard of living. I look at my father, who has struggled with work because of his colour but managed because of this nationality, these two are somehow at a disadvantage being South African and white.

Now, I want to clear something up; I am not writing this because I am saddened that a white man is lower in society that a black man, I am writing this because I find it interesting that 20 years after the Apartheid, the only thing that has happened is that the tables have been turned, and the black side of the table cloth is now showing. What I was expecting was that they would have incorporated a mix of colour, sewn black patches onto a crisp white cloth and used coloured thread. That colour would not be the separation between success and joblessness.

When people give directions they use the men standing at the junctions as a reference like they rely on them being there or else the directions are wrong. ‘Take a left at the robots with the man in the wheelchair and then you’ll get to the crossroads with that white guy’ and people will know exactly where they mean. Plus, if they’re not there people get concerned, because heaven forbid they’d have to learn the street names as appose to the which beggar will be there. ‘I wonder what’s wrong, why aren’t they there?’ I wonder whats wrong, why are they there? Why are they standing in the road begging for food?

These people have succumb to society and despite feeling as though they control themselves they are controlled by the fascist regime which leaves them soaking wet, standing at the traffic lights where their day is broken up into a thousand one minute intervals as the cars shift in sequence. Never knowing who’s window they will wave through and if the hand that reaches out to feed them will be the one that changes their life. It gives a whole new meaning to phrase window shopping. Watching them in their silent movie as hands dismiss their presence behind the slowly rising window and seeing suits look away to ignore their fellow man who stands alongside them asking for help. It shows pride in a weird way; they don’t just sit and wallow in their poverty but go out, show their face, they have a job at least!

Here I am in a place I don’t understand but there isn’t anything to understand; I’m not confused, this country is just a mess, two steps forward one step back. It’s like a sad dance but when will the pendulum stop swinging between such extremes and stop in a place which makes people feel safe. The police are completely corrupt, they wont do anything unless you stumble into the station with a knife sticking out of you which wouldn’t be a surprise from what I’ve heard. But why would you go to the police when they probably know someone robbing you; probably supplied the weapons they’re brandishing at you and your family.

On the surface it seems like such an angry country, somewhere you’d expect people to mope around, wallowing in their own self pity as many people do, blaming everyone else. But they don’t. 99% of the people I’ve met are happy, friendly, generous and hospitable and even visiting the townships where people are living in corrugated iron houses with no electricity, you’d think they would hate people visiting and shut themselves away, mad at the world. But I was invited into homes, shown around, waved at and asked to take photographs.

Walking around the manmade houses you see creativity everywhere. If I were given scrap and asked to build a house that would stay upright during a storm, I’m not sure I could and whats more, I definitely couldn’t make a two story house. These homes sometimes have 10 people living in them and despite being cramped, they take pride in what they have, even if it’s very little. One man showed me around his house and was so proud of everything in it. It had two rooms; a kitchen and then a living area with a bed, two sofas a music system and cupboards filled with ornaments and pictures. He pointed out his family in the photos and then pointed to the ceiling where a disco ball was hanging. We joked that he must have lots of parties there and soon his wife arrived to join the conversation. They sat and asked me to take a few photos which I did, and returned the prints to them the following week. He was so happy to have me in his home and show off his life, his house was immaculate and you could just tell he was happy. He didn’t need a huge house with a swimming pool and gated driveway. He didn’t need a maid or a flashy car. His children had grown up and left the family home, he had his wife by his side, a roof above his head and he was content with what he’d achieved, and he should be.

Yes walking around the townships wasn’t all happy faces and definitely isn’t somewhere I could live as fear for my own safety would keep me up all night. There were people who hid themselves away, people who’s houses stood next to a river of sewerage or a skip full of rubbish. I’d heard from someone that another baby corpse was found the night before I visited which didn’t seem to surprise them, something which in England would have been all over the news with investigations and people being held accountable. But here, it’s always another; another dead baby, another robbery, another rape and it seems like the country is numb to it.

Listening to the radio this morning was not a good way to start the day. As South Africa mark a 1 year anniversary of the rape and murder of a 9 year old girl, they reflect on the state of the country and how things have changed for women. It is apparent that the answer is, nothing! People are vocalizing their concerns but have decided it’s the rapists mother who is to blame, because she obviously isn’t teaching her son how to respect women. Sometimes you have to laugh, just for a second, because they follow that up with the amount of rapes in January alone. The number is astonishing; 4000. Take two zeros off that and I’d be shocked. 4000 is inexcusable and brings my laughter of comic relief to a sudden stop.

Understandably, I’m unnerved walked through the streets of Pretoria. Little white girl, bright red hair fluttering in the wind and a backpack full of camera equipment, talk about an easy target! Strangely I don’t feel like I stand out too much, despite being the only white face on this stretch of road. With the words of the broadcaster hanging in my ears, I head to a place I know I’m safe (silly when its midday in the city centre), Nando’s. So here I sit, two hours I will wait here for my dad to finish work and I’ll return home disappointed that I still haven’t witnessed the real Africa and it’s my own fault.

Obviously crime is high here, with so many people unaccounted for and the police being less then attentive you expect to hear a lot of bad things. A protest in Bronkhorstspruit, just north of Pretoria caught myself and the medias eye when people began torching their own town. The protest was based on electricity bill and obviously the town was annoyed with not having a choice so, angry at the government they torched the local police station and a clinic, which does not make sense because they’ve just limited their own services but thats what they chose to do. They covered the roads in rocks so no cars could enter the town and forced the police away so no help could be given. To them this would make things better. As well as that they burned down a neighbors house because they wouldn’t join the protest, the parents and 11 year old girl were unhurt but were driven away by angry mobs that said they must leave the town. With celebratory cheers as they drove away it’s obvious that many people are forced into doing things they don’t want to. A problem is made bigger because once the majority has decided, you’re better joining them than taking the highroad because the highroad will get you killed.

It’s been interesting being in Africa whilst England has been battered by storms, not only because I don’t have to wear 8 layers here but because every single night the news goes on about peoples houses being ruined by floods and asking who’s to blame for all of this. I don’t know have they haven’t managed to realise its nature and no one is to blame but hay ho, thats brits for you. I’ve sat here and listed to the rain and wind hit the windows as thunder storms bellow above the house and all I could think about was the townships. These people in England’s carpets are damp, their gardens now have a pond, we get it, and yes a few houses have been completely ruined but the amount of help provided and the fact they can just go stay with a friend is more than a luxury to the families living in shanty towns. If there is a storm, their whole house is ruined, every time it rains. Many don’t have doors, proper walls or a second floor so when the floods hit, every house is sitting in a river. No help is given; their lively hoods ruined within an hour, their families cold, wet and hungry. The next day they get up, go to work and then have to come home and rebuild their house before the next storm hits and they have to go through all of it again. So I have no sympathy for the people of Britain who are more concerned about if their insurer will pay or which governors fault it is. Don’t get a house on the seaside and complain when you know what England is like, it was your choice. These people don’t have a choice, they have to live on the street, they have to use scrap metal to build their house and they have to sleep on the floor.

The diversity you come across is astounding. The complexes with free security guard and the glass shopping malls, next to the slums and rubbish heaps. It’s a different way of living for sure but have the people living in these horrid circumstances achieved any less than those in mansions? They are rich with pride and knowledge but their lives are saddened by the constant reminder that it could be so much better. But perhaps they don’t want all that, they have their families for the most part and a roof over their head. They aren’t living off the government and they aren’t a burden to society. They work to have a life and that life is all they need.

First impressions of South Africa

effyau — Wed, 19 Feb 2014 08:09:00 GMT

My first opinion arriving in South Africa, disappointment! I was picked up from the airport in a car, not on a giraffe and then we drove down man made roads, not across open plains. We even passed shops and building with electricity. White people walked alongside black and restaurants sold steak and chips and pasta. Crazy!

I’m not really that naive but it’s funny talking to people about what I’m getting up to because people seem to forget South Africa is just another country and not another planet, and there is more than poverty, war and HIV. Sure it has its floors, big gaping ones that anywhere else wouldn’t be accepted but it’s a country trying. Unemployment affects 30% of people and you presume they’re not trying to better this, you presume until you see people in uniforms everywhere. They have men pumping gas at petrol stations, men guiding you out of parking spaces, men at helping you reach ticket barriers from your car window and the women help in the homes. Everyone has a house keeper or live in maid/nanny, which gives women a chance to earn a living too. Compare that to England who have replaced people with talking machines, who are we to pass judgement on unemployment, at least they’re trying and they do it with a smile on their face.

So not really disappointment when I landed, excitement. So much to do and see. I mentioned it wasn’t another planet but there are some strange going ons. A man shaving his armpits at the crossroads, the traditional carrying of bags on their heads but not as you’d imagine. Suitcases, supermarket bags, not pales of water or baskets of food. After all we are in the city centre.

Stalls line the pavements, selling an array of fruit and veg, as well as tax disks and pirate dvds. So yes, the same planet but a million world away.

Each night, storms erupt in the sky and the lightning burns up the clouds to leave a clear blue canvas for the sun to float in front of the very next day.

Apart from the animals then what else is there to do...oh the list goes on. You could shop away all your money, or you could save it and lay on a sandy beach. Fill your brain with African culture or fill your belly with fresh cuisine. You could volunteer with children or take a walk through the botanical gardens where you can head north to get a magnificent view of Africa, giraffes and everything.

Photos: South Africa

effyau — Sun, 2 Feb 2014 06:08:00 GMT

5 weeks in South Africa

Travelling through a snow globe

effyau — Wed, 4 Dec 2013 01:45:00 GMT

We’ve stopped the car as the snow descends on us. The wind blowing the flakes into a whirling patter that covers the road. The car is moving ever so slightly to the left as we sit amazed against this white wash. This is our road trip through Iceland.

Leaving Reykjavik we head north, slowly climbing the mountains which frame this magnificent country. Our next stop is Grundafjordur, where our home for the night turns out to be a 60 person hostel all to ourself. Let’s put our feet up, today’s drive was a long one. After veering through snowy mountains, driving over frozen lakes and visiting a dodgy abandoned petrol station, we earned it. As I pull the curtains shut, on our day in the hills, I see something I've dreamed about for years. I grab my camera to make sure it’s not just clouds. After 30 seconds the lime green fills my screen and I grab my coat. Balaclava on, I run; shoe laces flapping, my gloved fingers struggling to release the legs of my tripod, little did I know, I didn’t need to rush. 4 hours later, 3 has dropped to 2 and now both my big toes are numb, I’ve got it, two photos for my website and memories I will never forget. I slump into bed and pull the covers up above my ears as I curl up into a ball smiling. Squeezing my eyes shut, suddenly it’s a new day and i’m back to searching for the ringing under my pillow. Slam the door, adjust the mirrors, stall once, bloody female drivers, lets head north.

Unbeknown to me, one of the musketeers has a license bus hasn’t driven in 5 years, or ever unattended. The time he chooses to tell us, whilst he’s skidding on black ice as we venture up a cliff side. My heart has heard the news and has stopped moving to help balance the car, I can’t breath. After a few minutes I vacate the death seat and jump into the back, holding a map in front of my face to avoid the views. We stop frequently to capture the vast landscapes and cascading mountain sides and waterfalls. The sky blends with the hills and the hills blend with the road. It’s a white wash and I can’t take my eyes off it. I have my face pressed against the window, the tip of my nose cold and red, my breath fills the window and then cools before hazing again.

Now I know from booking the hostels that this next one is a little more remote. We rock up by the shore with no idea where we’re going and half a tank of gas. Rock paper scissors means the eldest is asking for directions and as we watch him silently through the car window i’m thanking God I’m the youngest. 3 men are emptying containers they’ve lifted off a boat; fish guts and blood spill from the box, odd ones slapping the gravel as each section is filled. James stands there unfazed by what’s in front of him and continues getting directions, myself and the vegetarian turning our noses up and looking away. Notebook in hand, we head to the outskirts, coming across cabins we will sleep in tonight. Hands shielding our eyes we press our faces against the windows of number 1. It looks bleak. We grab our key and step into the coziest place I’ve ever been. Beds built into the corner, heating on. I slip my frozen feet into some slippers and sink into the sofa cushions with my jug of tea. I shiver as a I warm up and my shoulders slowly drop as the tv fills the cabin in the hills.

I give myself until 1.30am before getting into bed. Lifting the blind to check the sky, I see those clouds. Waking up the guys with the shuffle of my salopettes, we head to a church which stands coloured by the northern lights. Heavy eyed with a full memory we trudge back to the cabin, crack open the beans and discuss our next excursion.

Dropping down into the town of Hvammstangi, we’re heading East, back through the twists of Northern Iceland, the farmhouses demanding your attention as they burst into view each time we corner a mountain.

A quiet quant town awaits us, and as we pull in by Akeryri Backpackers we are greeted by the warm glow of hostel lights. A bar with coach seats is where we spend the evening, laughing over pints of Gull as travelers busy themselves in maps of the town. The hostel has a sauna and I really want to go in, the cold hasn’t been as bad as I thought but I’m going to pretend it has to convince my body we need a sauna. Another early night and back in dusty we jump. I think the next stop will be interesting. I imagine houses lining the coast, with pebble beaches and grey cliffs. Not quite, it’s better! We sneak up on the town in the dead of night winding down the gravel roads, lights appear in the distance. A valley of tiny lights. My eyes are like saucers, I wind down my window and push myself as far out as I can, taking my camera with me. I take a breath of the bitterly cold air that’s sweeping the hair from my face and hold it, press the shutter and just wait a second. The wind that passes the car as we speed down the open road is drying my eyes and I can feel my lips cracking. I love it! I slump back through the window into my seat. When we park outside the hostel we all take a breath, the feelings are mutual here.

Iceland is a place of trust and adventure. We push open the door of the hostel and remove our shoes, a Scandinavian tradition. I spot my name on the desk with a note that says ‘find a room you like, I’ll be back soon.’ With the place to ourselves we are a little cautious, I head to the kitchen and put on the kettle, it’s been a long day and we all need a drink. We hear a womans voice greeting us from down the hall. We say hello back, pay the owner and we get an instant upgrade to on en-suite. She’s lovely, exactly what you'd expect in Iceland. We make ourselves at home as she leaves for dinner with friends. The night is relaxed; we go for a wonder and find a pub where we only stay for one as we are the only customers. One adventurer down, two of us go out later to photograph Seyousfjordur at night. We decide to go to bed not long after and give the search for northern lights a miss.

Now this is where the trip takes a turn. We head off as usual, the sun bouncing off the frozen ground, Ben Howard keeping our shoulders bopping. We take a left onto the main ring road and don’t see any other cars for miles. The roads are getting worse but we’re in a 4x4 so we turn up the music and carry on. I can’t help but feel at this point that we may have made a mistake, 45 minutes down this road we are unable to control the car, the wheels slide with the wind and visibility is so bad that we can only go by the Sat-Nav. I’m starting to panic and have been on the edge of my seat for a while now. The road is conveniently winding between lakes and cliff edges and now I’m pretty sure I’m about to die. (I’m writing this so at least you know its got a good ending) The tyres drop and begin to spin but the car isn’t moving, the snow is up to the bonnet and we’re stuck. The guys begin shoveling the snow from either sides of the car but the wind is bringing just as much back. We’re not getting out of here anytime soon. What I should have mentioned is that when we took that left there was a big sign that appeared to be flashing, we were too excited to stop and figure out what it said. Mountain rescue later informed me that it said the road was closed and a 4x4 was never going to get down that road in those conditions. The cars starting to get cold and the guys insist on digging through the snow. From around a corner, a car appears. This was the Marks and Spencer of cars; the wheels where the size of our car almost, a real Icelandic vehicle. To cut a long story short, 3 english 20-somethings had to be pulled out of the snow by a ginger Icelander and sent back where we came from. Without him we would have died in that car, icicles hanging off our noses, my bag of ginger biscuits untouched and never enjoyed! After driving for 7 hours, we are back where we started.

It’s too funny not to laugh about at this point. We set off from a petrol station at 10am and it was now 4pm and we were sat outside the same one, with the same map, figuring out the same journey. The sun is going down and we still have a 4 hour drive at least before we get to Vik. We head towards the coast and begin driving down the road which snakes around the east of Iceland. We stop to photograph the sun dipping behind the cliffs and fill our water bottles with fresh Icelandic water that trickles down the mountain sides.

It’s dark now and we finally pull up to the glacier lagoon, which I’ve been telling the guys all about. Going on and on about how great it is and how breathtaking it is. But it’s pitch black and you can only see a few icebergs sliding through the water. I set up my tripod and leave my camera on a long exposure to capture the nights sky with the moonlight bouncing off the water. We’re 2 hours away from our hostels so we jump back in the car and quietly drive. Arriving in Vik was like approaching a real life postcard; a church stood solemnly on the top of a hill looking down over the town beneath which graduated down onto the beach. The hostel is small, with wooden floors and a fireplace which to my disappointment isn’t turned on. Board games litter the coffee table in the living room so after we’re showered and my feet are back in fluffy socks, we huddle around the table with our new friends and talk about our travels whilst we play games.

Reykjavik is our next stop and marks the end of our journey in the snow. We have a big day planned as we arrive back in Reykjavik by mid day. I head off into the mountains of Keflavik to ride horses through the snow whilst the boys spend the afternoon eating pizza and drinking Icelandic lager. We meet back up that evening to go to the blue lagoon which we find out is the best way to finish the trip. We cheers over chilled beer as we soak in the lagoon. 2 hours we spend there and when we being asked to leave we realise we’re the only ones there. The freezing air makes my nose feel none existent but yet my whole body is tingling with warmth, I don’t want to get out.

We have an early start to get to the airport, so as we squeeze into the mini bus that takes us out of Reykjavik, we are all silent, watching the town get further away. We arrive at the airport, join the queues and reminisce about the best trip I have ever been on.

Help me win my first competition?

effyau — Fri, 29 Nov 2013 11:17:00 GMT

I've uploaded a photo i took to AXA grauate's facebook page a part of a competition.

It end sunday and i need atleast 300 likes on it to even be in for a chance of winning. Please help me, it's only two clicks

Heres the picture https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=501683916596996&set=a.470877393010982.1073741830.303927469705976&type=1&theater

i would appreciate it so much if you could help me

Thank you

Effy

Photos: Iceland November 2013

effyau — Thu, 21 Nov 2013 04:02:00 GMT

Roadtrip of Iceland

Roads of Iceland

effyau — Thu, 21 Nov 2013 03:52:00 GMT

Did a quick edit of the roads of Iceland

My website has a new look

effyau — Mon, 4 Nov 2013 10:07:00 GMT

Changed my website, here it is

http://bit.ly/1dG0IbY

feedback is welcome and appreciated :)

What i wrote when i thought i had 1200 words for the scholarship application...

effyau — Sat, 6 Jul 2013 07:25:00 GMT

That was a nice suprise when i'd written 1200 words for the application only to read back and realise it was characters :(

Here's what i would have said (Don't read if you're a judge and this is breaking the rules)

I am applying for the Scholarship as a Contemporary Art and Photojournalism student. I have switched between the two courses still not finding what I really need, to pursue a career in travel photography. So with uni as my crutch, I’ve been working to save up so that I can travel between studies and expand my portfolio. Over the past year I’ve managed to visit 7 countries which I travelled to alone so that I could photograph. Iceland, being my most recent and favourite, has clarified to me that photography and travel are the only things I can see my self doing.

I’m enthusiastic and believe there is no point in doing something unless you’re going to do it right, so I take great pride in everything I do. I am patient, something I think I have gained from working with children and behind a bar, which has had a great impact on my photography as I am willing to sit for hours to get the shot. I am extremely dedicated, if I have set my mind on something I’m going to do it, whether it takes one attempt or 100, I’ll never leave anything half done. I love a challenge, hate not being busy and thrive when around people who can teach me something.

Over the past 2 years I’ve not only travelled abroad to build my portfolio but have also attended a number of workshops, talks, conferences and lectures in London. I’ve always been an avid traveller from a young age and so started looking into where I could meet likeminded people while in the UK. I first went to Travel Photography Of The Year last year after coming back form a small Eurotrip in October, where I learnt an invaluable amount of information about travelling and photography techniques, as well as being able to see the exhibition from that year which just inspired me more. I then found out about Explore; another weekend event held by the Royal Geographical Society where I met some amazing people; someone who made it around the world using only man power and a man who walked through the entire amazon. Not only did I get to hear their amazing stories but I also sat in on talks about risk assessments, mapping, communicating from the field and equipment. I just need to put these into practice now.

I’ve always been intrigued by The Arctic and Antarctica because it’s so different to anything I’ve ever seen. It’s a whole new way of living and its vast spaces just make me want to explore. When I told people I was visiting Iceland last month their reaction was always ‘why would you want to go somewhere cold’ which I found funny since they’re living in the North of England, but the cold was just something else to look forward to since it has such an impact of the landscape. The natural wonders I got to see their will stick with me forever and they’ve just made me want more memories and moments like the ones I had there. A place that hasn’t been manufactured by man but is breathtakingly beautiful, juxtaposed with the colourful homes of civilization, is what I imagine Greenland to be like, and is what I am desperate to experience.

I love the outdoors and going on adventures, seeking out hidden places and camping under the stars. The physical side of this assignment would not be a problem as I have been playing sport ever since I can remember, have been hiking, climbing and skiing many times and attend the gym, so I have no worries there. I am more than happy with my photography equipment and I have all the correct clothing. I always keep a diary when I travel and also write articles in my spare time so my experience with that I think will come in handy and anything I do not already have, I will get.

A travel photographer to me is someone who has a passion for life, to see and capture parts of the world that not only most people haven’t seen but the parts that people choose to ignore. When everyone’s photographing a sunset, they’re the one who’s facing the other way capturing the shadows cast by it. The person who is laid on the floor photographing the cracks in a pavement or standing on a zebra crossing at night photographing the headlights of cars in a long exposure. Someone who will walk and walk without a map, following beauty until they end up at the top of a mountain where they can look down on their journey and photograph it. A girl who can show just one image of a country but sum it up in all it’s entirety; it’s atmosphere, it’s lifestyle.

I am desperate for this opportunity to learn from a professional, in what would be the most remote place I’ve ever been. I’ve been trying to write this for weeks but just can’t put into words how much I want this. It would be a foot onto the ladder of my dream job and a much needed step towards my future. I’m finding it more and more difficult to break into the industry between working and studying; being able to save enough to go away and photograph but not being paid to do so if really hard, not that I’m not enjoying the challenge but it would be great to be able to accompany a photographer, and Jason Edwards of all people, on an assignment and be able to learn on the job from a professional. National Geographic is my biggest inspiration and who I hope to work for one day, and this could be my chance to make that happen. I would put everything into this assignment and know that I would excel. The itinerary doesn’t faze me at all, it just makes me more excited at the prospect that I could be doing it. Put me in a boat, throw me out of a plane, slide me down an Iceberg, I will get the shot! (It would also mean I’d be celebrating my birthday driving along the ice cap road, which would pretty much make me the happiest person alive).

So to sum me up, I’m a happy, free spirited 21 year old, with big dreams, a lot of passion and drive, who falls asleep staring at the stars through her velux window. I’m spontaneous, dedicated and appreciate the small things in life. I’m a good photographer but this assignment could make me great.

Photos: Stockholm-Oslo-Reykjavik mobile travels

effyau — Fri, 5 Jul 2013 20:46:00 GMT

Here are the general photos i took on my phone during my 2 weeks

What's next

effyau — Fri, 5 Jul 2013 20:17:00 GMT

Well, as you can tell, i'm a litte obsessed with Iceland. It's the best place i've ever been and i had some amazing experiences, however, i did go when there was only around 1 hour of darkness so my next excursion is going to be in November, when there's only 1 hour of daylight. I'm very excited. What would make this great is getting the Greenalnd Scholorship so that i can go back to Iceland knowing what i'm doing and with the confidence to approach people also. Fingers crossed for the next week!

Photos: Me

effyau — Fri, 5 Jul 2013 20:03:00 GMT

Here are pictures of me, in all the best places i've been. You can tell i travel alone and have to take pictures of myself, because since my face is just crammed into the shot with whatever's behind me. Enjoy

A 'place' I have visited

effyau — Fri, 5 Jul 2013 00:08:27 GMT

A travel photographer is someone who has a passion for life, who captures parts of the world that most people choose to ignore. When everyone’s photographing a sunset, they’re the one who’s facing the other way capturing the shadows cast by it. The person who is laid on the floor photographing the cracks in a pavement or standing on a zebra crossing at night photographing the headlights of cars in a long exposure. Someone who will walk and walk without a map, following beauty until they end up at the top of a mountain where they can look down on their journey and photograph it. A girl who can show just one image of a country but sum it up in all it’s entirety; it’s atmosphere, it’s lifestyle.
I am desperate for this opportunity to learn on the job from a professional. It would be a foot onto the ladder of my dream job as National Geographic is my biggest inspiration and who I hope to work for one day, and this could be my chance to make that happen. I would put everything into this assignment and know that I would excel. Put me in a boat, throw me out of a plane, slide me down an Iceberg, I will get the shot!
I'm dedicated and love a challenge, have big dreams and a lot of passion!

Photos: Greenland Travel Scholarship

effyau — Thu, 4 Jul 2013 23:01:00 GMT

Here are the 5 images i am submitting for the Greenland Travel Scholarship

Visit Iceland

effyau — Mon, 1 Jul 2013 19:04:00 GMT

Iceland, a place where polar bears roam the streets, everyone is an eskimo and the buildings are all wood cabis with fur rugs. Not quite, but it is bloody cold. The country of natural wonders, Earth, Air, Fire and Water all in one place. The citie and towns are like most, as you'd expect a ski resort to look, the rest is an array of volcanic rock leading to the snowey mountain peaks, from the glacier lagoons and open waters, and from the natural springs to the wildlife it holds, Iceland is far from boring. With such contrasing elements the list of tours and expeditions is endless.

The Golden Circle tour is one of the most popular, as it gives an overview of what the country has to offer and is a great starting point. With over 50 % of Puffin population, 3 types of whale and the only species of horse that sleeps laying down, wildlife is something that must be on your to do list. With endless stretches of water, boat trips, snorkelling and swimming are popular with tourists throughout the year and are well worth the money. If you're keen on the outdoors ad adventures there are countless nubers of hiking and climbing trails for all abilities as well as places to camp, giving you a great way of seeing the Northern Lights depending on the season.

Iceland is vast but quiet with every one erson being accountable by 3 sheep. It is not only a beautiful country to escape the city ife to, but also an amazing mistake, which came out of the sea and stays afloat as it sits on a hot spot on the ridge of America and Eurasia.

Reykjavik, where i didn't have time to write because there's so much to do

effyau — Mon, 24 Jun 2013 06:50:00 GMT

It was an experience to say the least, whale watching that is. We only saw the fin of a dolphin so as for what we paid for, not great, but some of the sights, and im not talking about the landscape, were unforgettable. The first hour was plain sailing, kids running around, people laughing smiling, skip forward an hour, there's green faces, kids passed out, sick bag in hand, people holding onoto the frames of the boat for dear life; it was liek a modern day titanic. It was by far one of the funniest things (also pretty proud of myself for not getting sick). One guy said it was really boring, i thorougly disagree.

Oslo thoughts

effyau — Mon, 24 Jun 2013 06:46:00 GMT

I want to live in the middle of a lake. My little wooden house perched on a grassy dollop the river was never able to swallow. Id swim to the each each morning snd back at night. At 12 noon the sun would be directly above me, the windows reflecting onto the water in a kaleidoscope of colours. I'd sit on my roof and write stories and feel the wind push my hair away from my face, brushing my shoulders making it flutter like a red cape as i close my eyes and smile because i can feel a chill push the hairs on my body up.

Train brain, the 6 hours between Stockholm and Oslo

effyau — Mon, 24 Jun 2013 06:31:00 GMT

Finding out my train is 6 hours instead of 4 has made me happy. I don't think i'm ready for a new place just yet. I need more time with my thoughts. I haven't felt this relaxed in months, so much worry at home and with another 3 hours of this journey i am releaved. Despite sspending most of my life by myself, i never feel alone, so many thoughts, things to do, i don't have the ability to sit quilt free. And now as i drift through forest with the sun flickering on my face, i feel no pressure. I know when i get off this train the lists will start to build, where i should go, how many pictures, checklists, over and over in my head. I love the train journeys, you see so much, but it's all a glimse, if i ould click my fingers id stop the train, run down to that pond and dip my toes in, or follow that path into the forest and take a deep breath of air, holding it until it flows through my viens all the way to my feet, silence. So before that thought escapes, excuse me...

I think i've realised my obsession with the sky, the fact you can't touch it, you can never have it and i think somehow i know that but by taking photos of it i can keep it, have a piece, a cloud, a sunset. I'm that person that digs her fingers into buckets of gems, bags f seeds, cold soil, i run my hand along banisters, rubs holes in plastic bags because u like the feel so much. I wiggle my toes in sand, splash my feet in river and put my ffet against cold windows. I can't comprehend the thought of not experiencing something without my hands. The wind is the closest thing i have, winding through my fingers as i splay my hands out, trying to capture smells, wondering if it's different here than back home.

Stockholm day by day

effyau — Mon, 24 Jun 2013 06:25:00 GMT

So, i’ve landed here in Sweden and travelled to Stockholm for the start of my adventure. I’ve read online that it’s an extremely safe place and I think that’s true. I’m only going off the fact they leave toothpaste and in the hostel bathroom for everyone but still, I trust no one will rob me. I’m trying to understand the delicacies but so far I’ve only come across a chocolate log filled with cream and egg white rolled in hazelnut, however, I am not complaining. I feel it replicates the country perfectly, you see it, you want it, you feel daring choosing it but once inside you realise it’s some nice you’ve had before.

As you walk into City Backpackers you are greeted by friendly staff and the welcoming atmosphere. The hostel is full of character but relaxed and easy going. You are shown through the courtyard into a somewhat annex which is the hostel itself. There is a small common room and doors leading to the dorms. As you remove your shoes to stay with the tradition you have a choice to relax upstairs or to head downstairs where another common awaits on the other side of a stylish Ikea kitchen. Smiles beam your way and straight away, you feel at home. Fun, relaxed and full of Charisma.

As I take a manly swig of my Falcon, I feel the testosterone bubbling like the pint that sits in front of me. So maybe I quite fit in here as men gamble behind me and laughter roars out. Ties have been loosened and glasses emptied as he week draws to an end. The service is as you’d expect from a pub in Sweden, relaxed, but just what you need. I think I’ve just turned this local into bar as my seat by the window with my camera seems to have attracted other women and a mix of football shirts, I glance up to the bartender who is looking confused at the sudden burst.

How did I know Stockholm was where id end up? The cobbled streets mixed with the colourful culture, the relaxed attitude and non judgmental way of life, the rivers and outdoor seating with blankets, the sun and the snow. It’s everything I want and enjoy. The language though, now that’s a tough one, I’ll get there. It’s skies are amazing and the landscape too.

Today I walked past a homeless man in Gamla Stan, I slowed and watched a women give him money asking him what happened. His grin was unforgettable, toothless but genuine. I think the pure reason was that someone talked to him, paid him attention, instead of throwing change at his feet, reassuring themselves they’re not what’s wrong with society. As I walked away I’m filled with regret, and so as I ponder over my glass of coke I count out my change. When I return to the place I saw him, it’s empty and my heart drops. I wont miss another opportunity like that again. His infectious smile had made me wonder how someone like that, ends up there.