Chiang Mai - Part One

I'm so tired my face hurts. It's 4am and I lie there disorientated as the alarm clock screams cruelly in my ears. Due to rescheduling at work, I missed the overnight train Northbound and I'm forced to take an early flight the next morning. I'm disappointed to be denied the romance and discomfort of the fifteen hour sleeper, as well as the views of Chiang Mai and it's surrounding countryside at sunrise. However, I'm happy to escape Bangkok for a few days, and the only child in me looks forward to the comfort and familiarity of solitude. 

As soon as I land in Chiang Mai I feel the burden of worry fall away. The heavy smog of the Bangkok skyline is nowhere to be seen, and the tree lined streets and delicious fresh air come as a welcome change. There's something vibrant and carefree about this place and it oddly reminds me of an Asian Venice Beach. Shabby chic shop fronts, adorable coffee shops and stunning boutiques give you the feeling that Chiang Mai is stylish, relaxed and quietly confident. Yes, there are a lot of tourists but the city is so full of personality that you don't mind sharing it.

I drop my bags at the hotel and resist the urge to sleep in favour of A Lot of Thai - Chiang Mai's top cookery school and host to Gordon Ramsay. Run by Yui and her husband, this course is the perfect blend of facts and fun served up in a wonderful home environment. The tone is set when Yui swings by to collect you in the family campervan, a glorious VW from the mid 1960's. After dropping her daughter off at school, we head to the the local market to pick up the ingredients for my lesson. This exotic wonderland can only be described as a circus of the senses, and I amble distractedly through the maze of foreign goodies. Yui guides me through my shopping list and patiently answers all of my questions before we hop in the van and head home to meet the rest of the family. Over the next few hours I make (and eat) an impressive feast of Pad Thai, Red Curry and Tom Yum. Under Yui's expert supervision I manage to create three authentic and surprisingly tasty dishes that got me so excited, I broke my personal rule of not photographing food. 

Sleep deprived but blissfully happy I head back to the hotel for an early night. As I turn into the street a traditional Thai funeral begins it's journey from a neighbouring house. Desperate to photograph the life and colour that spills onto the road, I think better of it and quietly stand back to let the procession pass. It's one of those moments you commit to memory... The vibe is carnival, and to a soundtrack of heady music, a sea of smiling faces greet me warmly as they dance by en route to the temple. I'm fast falling in love with this soulful city and before I even get a chance to remember the day, I tumble onto the crisp white sheets and slip into a contented sleep.

Temple Colours

Market Food

A Lot of Thai Cookery School

Pad Thai Triumph

Three Kings Monument

Dear Jane

Miniature man cowering in your Eskimo empire
Mute till the end, is she undeserving of words?
Comfortably preserved, neat and tidy in exile
Marooned on an island of impenetrable ice.

Warrior woman thrive in the discomfort of abandon
Censorship stunts you, love inhabits your land.
Recover yourself gently, Eskimo living's not for you
A gift you've been given so dance freely again.

Bangkok - Weak One

After a long night wrestling sleep I groan in disbelief as the alarm cruelly interrupts my dozing. Although I had the foresight to choose a cheerful Bob Marley song the night before, I now find myself resenting his dulcet nagging as I fall out of bed disgracefully. This morning I jump straight back into the merciless Strike Back schedule, but as I leave the hotel I'm reminded of life outside of fiction by the sounds of protest rising in my consciousness with every waking minute.

The read through comes and goes and spirits are high as we get together for the first time. I take a moment to look around the table and commit to memory the faces that have grown so familiar over the last three years. I feel inexplicably comfortable in this disfunctionality and my heart is squeezed as I find myself drowning in the middle of another 'last'.

The next few days slip by quickly and I'm completely in my element as I push myself to perfect every challenge. But as the week draws to a close, my body is already under a great deal of stress and I feel frustrated and anxious about the lack of time. I decide that a day dedicated to anything non Strike Back is the only remedy, and so I rally the troops to go in search of some soul fodder.

We choose Bangkok's Chatuchak market and jump on the Sky Train to the end of the line and what is apparently the world's largest weekend market (according to Wikipedia). This place is indeed vast and from the perch like position of the station platform, Chatuchuk looks like a sprawling township.

As we descend into the madness I'm endeared by the bewilderment on my companions faces. The bold, sensory overload throws the eyes wide open, and immediately our group is separated as we're each tempted in a different direction by one of the hundreds of food carts that greet us.

The market is made up of an outdoor circuit and a mesmerising indoor bazaar. It feels fictitious in it's magic and I'm totally seduced by the myriad of paths that endlessly twist amongst the unexpected. We avoid the live animal quarter but otherwise amble without direction, occasionally stopping for some fresh coconut water or a Thai beer at one of little bars nestled in the heart of this charming oasis. Our mooching satiated, we head to the outskirts through a wonderful collection of local art, and find ourselves eating yet again before haggling with a tuk tuk driver to take us home.

As I lie in bed recovering from my frenzied ride across town, the fuzziness of the day dissipates and I suddenly feel marooned and a million miles from home. This nomadic lifestyle is rich in adventure but the price tag reads that my life and my love feel unsettlingly distant. I manage to push my melancholy aside and harness my thoughts to the overwhelming demands of the following day. Production begins and in spite of my doubts, I'm determined to conquer in a job that I love.

The sun rises on my first morning in Bangkok

Bangkok - The Beginning of the End

As the plane crawls to the runway, this is the first time in weeks that I've been able to stop for a moment and really reflect on the changes taking place in my life. Since my last days amongst friends and the emotional uncertainty clouding my goodbyes, I've sprung from the idle security of my Hungarian love nest and packed up my first home to potentially leave London forever. Although the unknown is unnerving and frequent panic attacks distract me from my purpose, I'm undoubtedly excited by the sudden feeling of movement and the relief that my life has seemingly rediscovered some direction. Our enormous Boeing 777 thunders down the runway and nudges me back to the present. You can really feel the weight of the plane and we travel so long down the path that I worry if we'll ever get up.

Twelve hours later I unfold my body and spend another miserable hour at Passport Control wondering how I always manage to pick the slowest queue? Still, my enthusiasm lingers and I step out of the airport to the unfamiliar chaos of Bangkok life. The first thing that strikes me is a flood of warmth, and a smell that sends me hurtling back to my childhood and the carefree holidays spent with my cousins in Singapore. Sweet nostalgia is so wonderfully comforting, and I happily lose myself in it until I'm tidied onto a bus bound for the city. The production assistant sent to greet me wastes no time in proudly declaring that he is in fact from Phuket and supports Newcastle United. He swiftly follows this introduction by asking me what religion I am, and gives nothing away when I tell him that I only go to church once a year to sing carols.

I make it to the hotel in time for my first Bangkok sunset, and after checking in and checkin' out my home for the next few months, I amble into what feels like a music festival only to find that it's actually the much publicised protests. Anyone could be forgiven for this rookie mistake, as the locals peacefully gather in the city centre on blankets with picnics and nationalistic merchandise. The mood is calm and positive as the political speeches are interspersed with performances from pop stars and school bands. The food is insanely good and after a satisfying trawl round the supermarket, I head home to commence battle with jet lag...

Although very fledgling, this experience feels so alien after three years spent filming in my beloved Africa. My emotions stir with the sudden realisation that this is where the closing of an enormous chapter begins. The coming weeks will trickle through an abundance of 'lasts', until there's nothing left but to bid farewell and move into the unknown.

Peaceful protest

Après Ski in Austria

What better way to start 2014, than a bold last minute decision to escape the city and indulge in one last hurrah before knuckling down to the New Year. This January, the post Christmas blues were well and truly blown away by a weekend in the mountains of Obertauern. With only ten days to go before filming begins, and a self imposed ban on dangerous sports, a ski resort may seem like an odd choice. However, with a little imagination and the company of good friends, this Salzburger town offers a remote and magical setting for some inspired R&R.

On arrival, the Austrian weather feels unusually mild. I raise an eyebrow at the ski paraphernalia bursting from the car and wonder if we've been a tad optimistic? The view delivers a lush vignette of middle earth rather than a fairy tale slice of Narnia, but I nestle down happy to be a passenger on the winding upward road to the unknown.

As we leave the city behind and drive further into the mountains, the light begins to fade and snow gradually appears as if bleeding up from the earth. Gingerbread houses are dwarfed in their surroundings and floppy fir trees are weighed down by their snowy burden. This icy design is transforming and after a brief dance with snow chains, we arrive at the chalet hungry for a hearty meal. The mountains feel so restorative and there's something very special about the energy of these giant peaks. A feeling of calm inhabits me and I find myself overwhelmed by the beauty of nature. Here, the night skies are as rich as velvet and the stars tease in a dazzling display. I breathe in the scene hoping that this feeling will last longer than the trip itself.

Obertauern offers everything you would expect from an Austrian getaway.  Amples of snow, robust wooden chalets, cosy restaurants serving weighty fare, excellent ski facilities and of course, the wild and wondrous Après Ski. Having dangerously tobogganed to my first one, I can confirm that non skiers are also welcome to this end of day party. It was here I was introduced to 'hammerschlagen', a seemingly simple game that involves hammering a nail into a piece of wood with the skinny end of a cross peen hammer. Having excelled in my first game, I then went on to lose miserably costing myself humiliation amongst strangers, and an expensive round of hazelnut schnapps.

On reflection, this type of getaway has something of the school trip about it. People are incredibly sociable and whether it's the snow or the activities on offer, it somehow manages to bring out the Peter Pan in even the most serious of visitors. I may not have skied, but a mixed bag of quiet contemplation and snowball ambushes recharged the batteries exactly as I'd hoped. As I recline on my deck chair with a mug of hot chocolate, I drink in the Winter sun and wonder at life's peculiarities. In less than two weeks, I'll be working fourteen hour days in the hot confusion of the Far East, and my lazy, hazy, piste-dreaming days will feel like a distant memory.

A Perfect Farewell

Norway - Hunting the Light

As we descend into Bergen we slice through thick layers of cloud. Rain falls like an icy monsoon and we’re herded onto the ship determined to wave goodbye to a disinterested coastline. Through the porthole, fog suffocates the horizon and mountains gasp for breath. Hundreds of waterfalls cascade into the fjords and I smile as they remind me of thread veins on a thigh. Distracted, I bravely stagger onto deck enticed by fresh air and the stark view. A chirpy announcement warns that a storm named Hilda is on its way, and I scuttle back in for shelter as debris jovially slides across my path. During the night we cross the Arctic Circle, and the ship sails calmly on to Tromso as we feast on fish patties and hot chocolate. Still no sign of the Northern Lights, we arrive disappointed only to be cheered by the yapping and howling of three hundred huskies. The mood is buoyant as our journey ends, and excited cheers punctuate the air as our Captain manages a dramatic three‐point turn in the narrowest of harbours. Whilst I long for dry land and a view that isn’t water, I disembark content to have tried something new.

The view at sea

Beautiful fjords

Budapest - An Artist's Perspective

Budapest is a city full of contradictions,where innovation is born from an elegant yet faded beauty. Time stands still here in the suspicious faces of a generation still marked by Communist rule. Bullet holes ridicule the facades of storybook architecture, and yet the majestic Danube still dominates this city and with its flow comes the current of change. Budapest is far from static, and anyone with a curious and pioneering spirit need only ask, “which way to the rabbit hole?” In the heart of the city is a sub culture nurturing the bravest artists and inspiring critical change. It’s a safe house for new thinkers to ask questions and challenge mediocrity. It’s International, it’s political, it’s experimental, it’s eccentric, and it’s dramatic and fun. What this city offers that is unique particularly to artists, is freedom and support side by side. A place to play without being judged, an ever-changing environment inspired by what has existed for years. With this in mind I believe Budapest is quietly becoming a cultural epicentre. A pit stop for ‘Creatives’ and their fans. Everyone loves an underdog and this town is definitely one to watch.

Chain Bridge

The Hungarian National Gallery

Castle District

Faded Beauty