You know what they say; men alone with camera's are most likely to drop into the deep, in the Grand Canyon. I was lucky to survive this shot of this enormous crack on the South Rim.
woensdag 9 december 2009
maandag 26 oktober 2009
Bon Bini
Just back from a vacation to the Dutch Antilles. It all started by train. No autumn-leaves on the traintracks, temperature not below 10 degrees Celcius, no snow, no drizzle, no torrential rain, no lightning, not above 20 degrees Celcius, no fog, not to dry, well outside traffic hour, almost no wind, no union strikes, no failing chipcards, no derailed trains at Amsterdam Central Station, the machinist turned up, no powerfailure anyone knew of, trafficcontrol had not been installing new software that morning, ... I almost couldn't believe it... impeccable conditions for the Dutch Railway company to keep their trains on schedule.
At the airport, where men are very busy browsing the electronic tax free shops, and women are constantly making their `really` last visit to the toilet before they have to board... it was clear that we had ran out of time...
Once in the caribbean, at Hato airport, their wasn't an obvious way out.
Willemstad and some of the obligatory sights...
The local postoffice, nicely decorated, and the the postal-services guy, also nicely decorated (wearing a Demis Roussos sized carpet and a straw hat) and a matching customer.
It can be a long haul from Venezuela to the floating market in Willemstad, but I really wonder how they ever know in which direction they are going? Maybe the nipples are pointing North?
Definitely no EPO abuse here.
Visited a friend who immigrated to poco poco land.
He gave a text book demonstration on how to light your barbeque the poco poco way...
And I have to agree that a hint of petrol on the meat never hurt anybody (that night).
We have cats, our friend has kids.
During our local explorations, we discovered the current hide-out of Marco van Basten...
... `Schippie` had to settle for less.
We did not only discover these hide aways of some lost Dutch heroes, we also came across some some suspicious looking blocks of concrete, closely resembling a very popular architectural style during the '40-'45 era all along the western European coastline.
'Snack's all over the place, in various conditions. We tried a Chinese snack and we are still debating whether this one really does pay its respect to the phrase "Welcome to Chinese restaurant!".
It took a while before the guy behind the prisonbars finally did not answer us 'Yes ... one chicken and one pork.' each time we asked whether the box included a knife and fork. Our mistake... obviously we were completely incomprehendable sticking with "fork" while we should have said "forki".
Of course we had some beers...
... and some champagne...
... and we did do some diving, taking an advanced course from an instructor who definitely would not get a dry throat 60 feet down.
After a failed attempt to watch the coral spawn (I am glad though that my wetsuit does not smell like coral sperm right now) some still hoped they did capture some spawning, but the coral researcher on duty confirmed, it was just coral yawning.
We did see some impressive underwater lifestock, during daylight dives.
This big green motherfucker from hell was one of them.
This king-sized crab wanted to get medieval on my ass.
This oversized shrimp would not be out of place as a Kahuna-burger ingredient.
And this scorpion fish may not be filthy but definitely looks dirty.
(It may be obvious to some that I recently watched Pulp Fiction again.)
And we split a baitball.
Although I was absolutely sure we were almost on top of a nuclear russian sub that went missing in action...
... we did not actually see it but somehow felt its presence.
We were able to find the sunken cargo freighter Superior Producer.
Just a piece of advice...
... never trust waterproof plastic bags. We killed the security alarm key of our rental car taking it down under with us in a bag like that. Calling the rental agency the service guy responded : "That's thirty minutes away. I'll be there in three hours." (in the caribbean, the Pulp Fiction quotes are just a bit off).
At the airport, where men are very busy browsing the electronic tax free shops, and women are constantly making their `really` last visit to the toilet before they have to board... it was clear that we had ran out of time...
Once in the caribbean, at Hato airport, their wasn't an obvious way out.
Willemstad and some of the obligatory sights...
The local postoffice, nicely decorated, and the the postal-services guy, also nicely decorated (wearing a Demis Roussos sized carpet and a straw hat) and a matching customer.
It can be a long haul from Venezuela to the floating market in Willemstad, but I really wonder how they ever know in which direction they are going? Maybe the nipples are pointing North?
Definitely no EPO abuse here.
Visited a friend who immigrated to poco poco land.
He gave a text book demonstration on how to light your barbeque the poco poco way...
And I have to agree that a hint of petrol on the meat never hurt anybody (that night).
We have cats, our friend has kids.
During our local explorations, we discovered the current hide-out of Marco van Basten...
... `Schippie` had to settle for less.
We did not only discover these hide aways of some lost Dutch heroes, we also came across some some suspicious looking blocks of concrete, closely resembling a very popular architectural style during the '40-'45 era all along the western European coastline.
'Snack's all over the place, in various conditions. We tried a Chinese snack and we are still debating whether this one really does pay its respect to the phrase "Welcome to Chinese restaurant!".
It took a while before the guy behind the prisonbars finally did not answer us 'Yes ... one chicken and one pork.' each time we asked whether the box included a knife and fork. Our mistake... obviously we were completely incomprehendable sticking with "fork" while we should have said "forki".
Of course we had some beers...
... and some champagne...
... and we did do some diving, taking an advanced course from an instructor who definitely would not get a dry throat 60 feet down.
After a failed attempt to watch the coral spawn (I am glad though that my wetsuit does not smell like coral sperm right now) some still hoped they did capture some spawning, but the coral researcher on duty confirmed, it was just coral yawning.
We did see some impressive underwater lifestock, during daylight dives.
This big green motherfucker from hell was one of them.
This king-sized crab wanted to get medieval on my ass.
This oversized shrimp would not be out of place as a Kahuna-burger ingredient.
And this scorpion fish may not be filthy but definitely looks dirty.
(It may be obvious to some that I recently watched Pulp Fiction again.)
And we split a baitball.
Although I was absolutely sure we were almost on top of a nuclear russian sub that went missing in action...
... we did not actually see it but somehow felt its presence.
We were able to find the sunken cargo freighter Superior Producer.
Just a piece of advice...
... never trust waterproof plastic bags. We killed the security alarm key of our rental car taking it down under with us in a bag like that. Calling the rental agency the service guy responded : "That's thirty minutes away. I'll be there in three hours." (in the caribbean, the Pulp Fiction quotes are just a bit off).
Off course, the sun sets on all vacations in the end.
dinsdag 1 september 2009
Sunday strawl
Just went out for a strawl through Amsterdam from Dam square to Central Station.
The Dam square monument looked like an arena where all the pigeons eagerly awaited a frenzy between all the featherless bi-pods... though I must say... it did not look like the bi-pods had that much life in them this day.
The women I was tagging along were constantly drawn to the bling-bling on display.
Yep... size does matter... at least for the bling-bling.
Spotted.
And look who I ran into... Rooney!
The Dam square monument looked like an arena where all the pigeons eagerly awaited a frenzy between all the featherless bi-pods... though I must say... it did not look like the bi-pods had that much life in them this day.
The women I was tagging along were constantly drawn to the bling-bling on display.
Yep... size does matter... at least for the bling-bling.
Spotted.
And look who I ran into... Rooney!
maandag 31 augustus 2009
KNSM Island swimming race (Rondje KNSM Eiland)
The last weekend of August, a 5KM swimming race around the KNSM Eiland, in Amsterdam, all around my house, was held.
As it quickly turned out, you also had to have bollocks just to watch this race.
An athletic lightweight photographing one of the athletic heavyweights warming up. Can't tell which one looks more Zen.
A swimming Tamagotchi, I don't know if it made it safe across the finish.
In preperation, eying the horizon.
Some one applied a year's production of earwax.
Crowded at the starting deck.
Final concentration, just before the start.
Ready.... Steady...
Go!
Just a 4.9 KM to go.
Steadily moving towards the end of the 'Ertshaven'.
While one swimmer is legging behind...
... the frontrunners are already turning onto the IJ (the Egg).
The head of the KNSM Island, with the 'Venetiehof' at the background as the swimmers pass by.
The long stretch towards the head of the Java Island.
Three guys took an early lead.
One direction only, LEFT! An exception is made for 'sport' (according to the sign)!
This guy won prize for most original usage of his arms, I am not sure he ever used them to swim with.
The first-aid poeple did not have to break a sweat to keep up the race pace.
The final leg in the IJhaven.
A 'harborfriend' with a big sister.
The winner lashing out his final strokes.
Then turning back the boat to support some of the floaters still out there.
This guy lost his sense of direction, or it could be that he gave up in the final yards, turned around and swam all the way back.
Of course the obligatory press conferences : 'Please can you tell us what went through your mind when you crossed the line?'.
'I found a floating cap... has anyone seen my speedo?'
Not using the OVF, and not using the LCD...
The pace was a bit too slow for this kid.
Camera on duty, Nikon D200 + Nikkor 18-200VR.
As it quickly turned out, you also had to have bollocks just to watch this race.
An athletic lightweight photographing one of the athletic heavyweights warming up. Can't tell which one looks more Zen.
A swimming Tamagotchi, I don't know if it made it safe across the finish.
In preperation, eying the horizon.
Some one applied a year's production of earwax.
Crowded at the starting deck.
Final concentration, just before the start.
Ready.... Steady...
Go!
Just a 4.9 KM to go.
Steadily moving towards the end of the 'Ertshaven'.
While one swimmer is legging behind...
... the frontrunners are already turning onto the IJ (the Egg).
The head of the KNSM Island, with the 'Venetiehof' at the background as the swimmers pass by.
The long stretch towards the head of the Java Island.
Three guys took an early lead.
One direction only, LEFT! An exception is made for 'sport' (according to the sign)!
This guy won prize for most original usage of his arms, I am not sure he ever used them to swim with.
The first-aid poeple did not have to break a sweat to keep up the race pace.
The final leg in the IJhaven.
A 'harborfriend' with a big sister.
The winner lashing out his final strokes.
Then turning back the boat to support some of the floaters still out there.
This guy lost his sense of direction, or it could be that he gave up in the final yards, turned around and swam all the way back.
Of course the obligatory press conferences : 'Please can you tell us what went through your mind when you crossed the line?'.
'I found a floating cap... has anyone seen my speedo?'
Not using the OVF, and not using the LCD...
The pace was a bit too slow for this kid.
Camera on duty, Nikon D200 + Nikkor 18-200VR.
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