On mastering the art of indolence in a hot country. 11/2/2024 0 Comments   ​OH ( my other half) and I are just returned from a trip to Mauritius. We met in Mauritius 44 years ago as students, and OH was keen to revisit the beautiful island that holds many happy memories. Memories of spending afternoons on the beach snorkelling over an incredible coral reef, listening to a young boy lying in the sea playing his trumpet. Of a bed and breakfast accommodation complete with cockroaches and geckos, and a cyclone that brought 60 inches of rain in just 14 days. It was so wet that we ended up travelling around the island in our swimming costumes, as there was no point wearing clothes; we were completely soaked within seconds. many years ago....... I am not a fan of heat, or of beach holidays. I am no longer able to lie for hours perfecting an unhealthy tan. I am a restless individual who can cope with no more than 30 minutes lying on a sun bed before craving some action. OH, on the other hand, likes nothing better than to lie for hours reading a good book, barely bothering to swim or to stray from his lounger. We are incompatible in this respect.  ​ In the past we have chosen activity holidays such as hiking or sailing. But this was to be a regular beach holiday. The potential for activities was there, but the heat of the tropical sun is more than I can bear on my ageing skin, and I can only be happily active before the sun reaches any significant height in the sky. So, determined to get some daily exercise, I got up at 6.30 every day to walk before sunrise. I left OH in bed and crept out with my camera and a desire to explore.  Our first location was a beach hotel. I was not the only one walking very early in the day. The sand was heavily foot-printed, and the beach pleasantly shaded. ​ Early morning walkers at Flic en Flac, Mauritius.  I searched for things to photograph. Mostly I was drawn to the dead corals, lying on the white sand along with sea urchins and a few shells.  Sadly, most of the Mauritian reef coral died after an extreme heatwave a few years ago. Snorkelling over it made me feel very sad, as I have memories of extraordinary beauty just off shore in the shallow waters protected by the outer reef. ​But the remains of coral washed ashore held me captive with their extraordinary patterns and variety. remains of coral reef, Flic en Flac, Mauritius It is illegal to remove coral and shells from the beach, so I took only photographs.  ​ sea urchin and seaweed  Every morning I walked, often passing the same people going in the opposite direction. When i tired of the sand I walked on the road to the village. A village that didn't exist 44 years ago. Everything was so different. A large part of me prefers to remember it as it was rather than how it is now. I passed  many coloured food trucks beside the road, closed up for the night. I was thinking of Ed Ruscha's photobook entitled '26 gasoline stations'. I envisaged my own version...... '26 food trucks'..... But I never completed the series. I was with OH, and we were on the move, so the opportunity didn't arise. After a few days at a beach hotel we moved to an airbnb in a small town. I was beginning to feel restless and frustrated with the heat. My morning walks became even more important. This time, along a busy road with no pavement until I reached the beach. I passed gateways to homes of many types, and tried to avoid being killed by the crazy bus drivers hurtling along the road  at break neck speed. ​ gateway, Pereybere, Mauritius scene from a morning walk, Pereybere, Mauritius gateway, Pereybere, Mauritius Here was another potential series; the contrast between the old and the new,  but I would have needed much more time walking the streets before breakfast., gathering more images. We were only there for 4 days. Not nearly long enough. ​ food outlet, Mon Choisy beach I started taking videos instead of photographs. They seemed more able to capture my mood. The word 'indolence' kept passing through my mind. I was conscious of a slow changing of my mood. Seven days into the trip I was irritable and wishing myself somewhere cooler. But as we settled into a routine of beach visits and snorkelling, people watching and novel devouring, I started to feel calmer. I spent long minutes watching palm trees swaying in the breeze, and the locals standing in the shallow water chatting for what felt like hours.  beach corals, Mauritius We moved on to our final destination; a fancy hotel in the east. Fancy and expensive. This was a birthday treat and another chance to revisit old memories. The son of our B&B hosts all those years ago was a chef at the hotel, and we dined there as his guest as students. I just remember a clean, white modern dining room, far beyond our budget. I have no idea what we ate. This time we were able to stay and make use of the beautiful surroundings, but my morning walks took an unexpected turn for the worse. I could either walk up the long drive of the hotel to the main road in blazing sunshine ( no thank you), or stroll along the local beach , which was not very far. I gave up this option after one day due to encountering a large amount of litter as soon as I left the main hotel grounds, and the distance not being far enough to call it a 'walk'. So I settled into a state of indolence, and carried on making videos and some cyanotypes with paper brought from home.  I got better at it day by day.  I watched clouds, and the weaver birds building nests. We took a boat to an island beach and lay under the trees drinking ice cold water. And when I got home I made a very short video of calmness. It is far from perfect, but my first  photobook course is starting this week, so I wanted to make it while I had time and was fresh from the trip. No more indolence now........ OH won't like it, as the music is too melancholy, the sun isn't always shining. there are no pictures of our adventures together, and it isn't a rip roaring ride through 14 days of sun and sand.  For that he will have to wait......... patience is a virtue. Some of us have more of it than others!

you can take a horse to water.............

border detail at Sussex Prairie Garden

This weekend has been a prime example of how making images has to come from the good feelings that lie within.

On Saturday I made my first, long anticipated visit to the  Sussex Prairie Garden. As one who is addicted to grass, this was something I had been looking forward to for months. It is a truly beautiful garden created with passion by Paul and Pauline McBride, and inspired by the work of Piet Oudolf.

Piet is a well known Dutch garden designer, and some beautiful images of his style can be seen here. Paul and Pauline have created their own garden over six acres in the 'naturalistic' style that Piet champions.

Mostly the colours are very subtle, but there were occasional splashes of bright colour hiding amongst the swathes of grass and herbaceous perennials. One of the lovely things about the garden are the wood chip paths encouraging visitors to stray deep into the plantings of the wide beds.

What a shame then, that our visit was on a scorching hot, blue sky day, when the light was harsh and the heat was challenging.

bison on the prairie

I took some photos, but I know that I can do better. I will return when the conditions are more conducive to capturing the softness of the planting, when the light is lower in the sky, and the grasses are turning to silver and gold from their current shades of green.

poppies

So different from the mood that caught me later  the following day; a day when half of the world came to Camber Sands to enjoy the beach. After they had all gone home I took myself down to Rye Harbour for a stroll, where a welcome breeze broke the heat, and I set myself a little project of seeing how many different views I could make of the golf clubhouse in the distance, across the dunes. Golfers have money.............maybe they would spend some of it on my images?

rye golf club from rye harbour

Maybe not; I don't think they would appreciate my take on their clubhouse, but by experimenting I got into that zone ..........the one that was missing at the Prairie Gardens............

An old railway carriage at Rye harbour

new tarmac caught my eye

At high tide the fishing boats went off to sea

gone fishing

And the red hut popped up wherever I went

down low amongst the wild flowers

shooting the breeze

Two hours passed in blissful oblivion to the rest of the world, and I returned home with my spirits lifted by the sheer pleasure of having being out making images.