I am not a difficult man to please when it comes to travel.  I have learned over the years to accept what comes from any opportunity no matter how bleak its potential.  I could be in a meeting somewhere in a small concrete town outside a boring city, and I would carry my camera in my briefcase.  There is always something interesting or different to what I'm used to, and I have learned that not carrying a camera will guarantee its appearance. With over a decade of regular travel and having been fortunate enough to explore many countries and cities - often repeatedly -  I am extremely difficult to impress.  

New York City laughed in my challenging face.  Within a couple of days I was wondering how much the average rent would be in the nicer neighbourhoods - perhaps overlooking Central Park? This city is infectious.  Our story begins in Times Square, and thanks to Sandy it even has a twist.

It was the Eid holiday week and our plan was to have five full days to explore NYC, fly back Wednesday night and rest Thursday to Saturday before going back to work and school. 'Tight but realistic' is how I described it to a friend.  It didn't turn out like I had planned, but we were very lucky considering what the city went through during our time there.

We arrived on an evening flight so Times Square was alive when we got out of the cab.  My wife took a photo of our suitcases coming out of the cab and we didn't stop shooting until we got back.  Our Instagram feeds provided a storyline to our friends and family - starting with the suitcase and cab photo uploaded by my wife before we checked into our room!

Arriving at Times Square was the perfect feast after the appetiser of seeing the city from a distance when we were driving in from the airport.  At that point I remembered how the same drive also impressed me the first time I arrived into New York more than ten years ago. Sightseeing and shopping were the only two targets for the trip.  No business meetings or formal dinners.

New York has the energy of an active young man, the elegance of a sophisticated older lady, and the resilience of a dedicated soldier. The city is manicured perfectly in some parts and a little rough-edged in others.  The perfect blend of what makes a place interesting to visitors and residents alike.   The place feels like it 'never sleeps' despite the limitations: Manhattan feels like it barely copes.  It stands tall (very tall) surrounded by water and the ground it sits on is meshed with the miles of tunnels dug underneath it over the years.  Yet it somehow looks invincible.  

I recognise I'm viewing it with tourist eyes - and this is all I claim to describe here. I mention this because as you can see the shock on the policeman's face when Yousef asked him where the nearest open Starbucks is.  This as they were closing stations and roads preparing for the storm that was hours away! I had told Yousef to ask the guys holding the Starbucks cups, and he heard me say 'cops'. This was not a set photo. I took it at that very moment he finished asking and seconds before we all hurried out of their way.

We saw how the mighty prepared for battle.  Preparations for the no-longer-called-hurricane Sandy were simple but done properly.  We witnessed the big brace-yourselves feeling when the city became a ghost town for almost 48 hours.  We stepped out when the storm was approaching, knowing at the time that it was a short but safe distance away.  Where we were in Times Square was completely untouched by the wind and water.  

Other places were hit hard. Shops and restaurants closed for two days after the storm as people struggled to get to work. Deliveries were still catching up three days later and the queues for petrol were miles long.  Thousands were without power and many were charging phones and catching up with their work in cafes that barely stayed open.

Our two days spent indoors were made up with the time it took to find a flight home after our original booking was cancelled.  The only discomfort was a cold shower when the steam line was being repaired.  Apart from the Lion King on Broadway which was cancelled on our night, we managed everything else on our list. 

Regular readers here will know my love for London.  I feel I'm on the cutting edge of the world when I'm there: a feeling I rarely get in any other city, especially in the United States.  NYC feels very similar to me.  The energy and drive are palpable and the sharpness and wit are in abundance.  I felt surrounded by clever design, interesting architecture, art, culture and even history.   We had a truly unforgettable week in a fantastic city.

This is not my first post of images exclusively from my iPhone.  It is however the first time I have done it by choice. I had access to my camera and I did use it.  These images just felt a little more alive.

I cannot find the time for photography and blogging and I am seriously missing it.  I am therefore thankful that I am able to play with images, texture and lighting almost all the time using my iPhone - especially with Hipstamatic which I have mentioned on this blog before.  I recently got an iPhone5 and the camera is significantly better than my iPhone4 so I'm testing various combinations of films and lenses all over again.  I came across Marcus Bruce's presentation of 1456 combinations and wanted to share the link here for my fellow hipstas.  When I thought of the silly title for this post based on the matrix presentation, I found out it exists as a rather clever website.  It too is worth sharing.  Links are below:

Marcus Bruce's Combinations

Hipstamatrix

I went back the next day to the same Launderette to get a few shots and share them here.  I chose this particular one because it looked absolutely perfect.  Nothing more than what it should be.  The simple letters of the basic (and honest) name outside, and the disgustingly charming colour scheme that induces insanity in anyone above the age of two, were the perfect invitation to this neon-lit haven.  As you look down to avoid chronic depression, the brown tiled floor is the perfect reminder of gloom that causes the twitches you will have for the rest of the day.

We forget quickly, thank God, but it was a real chore for me back then.  Of course it still is for many people today.  Lugging my clothes in those horrible white bags - the ones with the blue and red lines and usually a broken zip and dodgy handles that seem to hold on for dear life on the last two remaining knots.  Why didn't I use a rucksack? I'm asking myself now.  I had a perfectly good one back then! Anyway, allow me to take you with me on what was my weekly pilgrimage to the local Launderette. 

The right change would be ready from the night before, and I would start every Saturday morning rain or shine (usually rain!) walking for about ten minutes.  After I start the clothes I head to the nearest newsagent which is never far away. If it was nice weather I would take my newspaper and healthy breakfast (crisps and chocolate) to the local park. Headlines only at this point and a reconnaissance of what I will read properly later. It was the only reading I did outside of textbooks. What a waste of bloody time. Back to the Launderette, and if there is a dryer available, in it the cleanish clothes would go, and I'm back to the newspaper. Articles and analysis are for when I get back home, so front few pages only and maybe the sport update in case the guys asked me on Monday. Laundry done, I would go home, spend an hour reading, followed by eight hours of TV. Non-stop.

I'm killing my point here before I even make it.  The thought I wanted to share was that we spent a long time doing things that my son will always take for granted.  Clothes appear clean in the wardrobe by themselves for most if not all my friends here.  However as I write these words wondering what it would be like to have that time again with Twitter and iPads, I'm not sure how wisely I would use it.  I would probably watch TV on my iPad at the Launderette.  I wouldn't even buy a newspaper.

A friend commented on my Instagram post the day I took these shots (slightly paraphrased): 'Ahh the days I used to spend washing my school clothes during weekends in London with no cell phone nor iPod Touch lol. Only newspapers and puzzles'.  In many ways... Just like today!

I am never sure whether or not to carry my DSLR with me when I travel.  I would often pack everything, then reduce it to the essentials, only to leave the bag behind on my way out.  When I bought the Fujifilm X10, it felt like the decision to leave my 'real camera' behind became easier.  This week, I'm starting to see why. Landscape and street photography are good enough with virtually any camera today.  Low-light photography and indeed macro are a little different.  I don't remember the last time I dialled in an ISO higher than 800.  In fact the only time was Noor's ballet performance, and that was in Kuwait (I should probably post a couple of shots).  Yesterday, I had a chance to test my X10 with these two spiders setting up homes in our back garden (In London... so no Nikon).  They are tiny! and the results were impressive.

I haven't yet figured out how to comfortably manage the manual focus, so I was locking the focus on my hand and getting close to the spiders' web before fully depressing the shutter.  Whilst the quality may not be good enough for large prints, it is without doubt enough for photos like the ones on this blog that are destined to spend eternity on the web.  

Creativity is hard to measure and more so to anticipate.  It seems to find us only during the busiest of times.  For me it's when I am busy with work, usually when travelling and often when reviewing research papers - all at the same time.  I would get an idea for a nice post, or a good use of an infrared camera for wall art.  When I was relatively free for the whole month May on the other hand, I did absolutely nothing.  My sister takes this relationship with creativity to a whole new level.  I would bump into her at Starbucks when she would be escaping being a mother, a wife and a doctor, to catch up with some studying.  She posted a picture of one of her coffee cups, where she had decorated the Starbucks siren, on Instagram.  I immediately asked for a photo shoot, and since I'm busy now and soon travelling, it felt right to try and fit it in. I should also mention that as my sister's study pressure dropped, so has her motivation to draw and paint. 

I don't often do this with my posts but I will let the photos of these amazing works of art do the rest of the talking.  The names of the characters in no particular order are: Tinker Bell, Cinderella, Jasmine, Rapunzel, Tiana (Princess and the Frog), Beauty (Belle), Snow White, The Evil Queen, Aurora (The Sleeping Beauty), Malefiecent, Ursula (The Sea Witch), Ariel (The Little Mermaid), Peter Pan, Wendy Darling, Michael Darling, John Darling. 

It's been a busy time for me with research and going back to work this week.  I've been neglecting my photography - at least with a proper camera.  In fact I'm still behind with a post or two but will hopefully catch up soon when I'm reunited with my laptop next weekend.  The wonderful thing about iPhone photography, however, is that I haven't stopped snapping even at the busiest of times.  Apps such as Hipstamatic just add to the fun and potential for creativity.

When we remodelled our study (we changed the desk and added a few shelves) we had a big empty wall which was begging to have character.  It was the perfect the opportunity to try out printing some of the Instagram images.  I found a printing service on Firebox and received a rather fun confirmation email after I placed my first order.  I was so happy with the results, I ordered a new batch a few days later.  The room is now vibrant without anything overbearing on the wall and is also full of little memories and stories. 

The print quality is superb and the colour is perfect.  You will get something as good as what you have on your phone, printed on what looks like Polaroid snaps from a more simple time.

This was a must-see for us but unfortunately we only managed one brief visit - and not at prayer time.  The timing was not perfect for photography but I'm pleased we made the journey and walked around in the courtyard and grounds of what I recently discovered is the largest mosque in Pakistan.  It can accommodate 10,000 worshippers in the main hall. We didn't have the time to visit the museum and library, but I don't think we've missed much given how young this mosque is. Completed in 1986 as a national mosque and paid for by Saudi Arabia, it was named after King Faisal after his assassination in 1975.  It's well maintained and surrounded by elegant gardens. 

The design is striking.  Its simplicity captivates from a distance and the backdrop of the Margalla Hills makes me think the location was not an afterthought.  This is how the Turkish architect, Vedat Ali Dalokay, describes his design philosophy: " I tried to capture the spirit, proportion and geometry of Kaaba in a purely abstract manner. Imagine the apex of each of the four minaret as a scaled explosion of four highest corners of Kaaba - thus an unseen Kaaba form is bounded by the minarets at the four corners in a proportion of height to base. Shah Faisal Mosque akin to Kaaba. Now, if you join the apex of each minaret to the base of the minaret diagonally opposite to it correspondingly, a four-sided pyramid shall be bound by these lines at the base side within that invisible cube. That lower level pyramid is treated as a solid body while four minarets with their apex complete the imaginary cube of Kaaba."

I will be running the British 10k run in London this July - or if I'm honest at the very best jogging it very slowly. It will be for a children's charity and I hope to inspire you to make a donation, big or small. This is a personal challenge to get fit especially after recently discovering that my blood pressure is on the high side. Until April 2012, and apart from playing football once in a blue moon, the longest distance I had ever run in my life was 400m.  I've walked and hiked longer distances but I've never run longer than my 400m relay back in high school. My biggest challenge is therefore getting my leg muscles to support me moving at speed - a term I use loosely. 

In order to build the necessary amount of guilt to ensure I continue exercising and actually turn up for the run, I registered with JustGiving.  I looked through many charities and although I don't know anyone at Hope for Children, I liked what I read about their work. They help orphaned, poor and exploited children world wide.   Please pile the pressure on by making donations... Please show me the money!

Donations: My JustGiving Page   The charity: Hope for Children   The Event: British 10k London 2012

The looks on the faces of these boys summarise the reception we had at the village.  It was a mix of intrigue by who we are and what we were doing there (from those who didn't know us), a shy face or two which chose to hide away in the background, and an overwhelming majority who offered unconditional, warm and welcoming smiles - all day, every day.  This place was as far off the beaten track as I have been for a while.  As a family this was as far from 'civilisation' as we ever got.  It is also a place where I saw true civilsation.

We arrived into Sahar on a Friday, and after quite a drive from the airport I only had a short window to shower and shave ready for the Mosque.  We went to the larger village nearby, Thathi, a small town rather than what it claims to be namely a large village  Thathi has a population of around 30,000 after it more than doubled in size over the past fifteen years.  I was very impressed by the mosque, the ages of the people who came for Friday prayer and what filled me with joy more than anything is the fact the politics doesn't seem to have found its way to religion here... yet.

I knew this would be the best part of the trip and staying here a few days only confirmed it.  The fresh air, the openness, the people, the simplicity and of course the smiles. A sleepy village, that is in bed shortly after sunset and up at the crack of dawn, is my kind pf place to spend a relaxing week.  Any longer and I may become a serial killer just to pass the time. 

Wheat was everywhere we looked and the villages of Jarhi and Sahar were no exception.  The crop was short and green when we arrived and grew substantially over the next week shifting in colour to the more familiar golden yellow.  The harvest, we later learned, was a fortnight after we had left.  The view from our house changed all the time and the foundation remained: a proud and prominent mango tree that seemed to belong there as much as it didn't.

The surrounding areas are still wild and will be presented in another post.  The village is made up of cultivated land with houses dotted thinly around.  The land has been tamed by force and time and, until recently, with very little machinery.  The feeling of a working ground is all around and the drive feels constant.  

There are no canal systems nor did I see any automatic irrigation.  Locally dug wells and rain is what the farmers rely on.  Rain that has not been coming over the past few months.  The weather really was perfect for us tourists, if a little hot in the middle of the day.  For the locals, a few more heavy clouds and some water from the heavens would have offered a little more comfort.

Farm animals offer the perfect garnish to the local scenery.  All were very well looked after and clearly from good stock.  What makes this part of the world beautiful is that nothing is here without a distinct purpose.  I once heard an excellent line on a property show on TV: If it's not beautiful and you don't use it, throw it out.  This forced natural selection seems to have done that here.  Everything has a reason, and nothing, not even the size of a match stick, is there for no reason.  It's a great lesson in managing our excesses.  

This post would not be complete without specific reference to the role of women.  I should be more supportive of my gender but if I'm honest I hardly saw any man lift a finger.  To give you a flavour of the roles, women cared for the families, tended the land, weeded the ground, washed and fed the animals, cleaned the houses, took the laundry to the local stream, cooked the meals, served them and cleared up.  Men didn't.

The local architecture has the same ethos as the rest of the village.  Nothing extravagant, nothing unnecessary, but buildings that served a purpose and stood the test of time were the main two criterions for design.  The overall result is a pleasing simple look that combines function with beauty and in the same way fitting in perfect harmony with the surroundings.

The infrastructure which I'm told has improved exponentially over the past decade is still lacking.  However this area is blessed by its diaspora in the UK.  There is some money finding its way back and investments, as well as philanthropy from businessmen, going hand in hand with government money to develop the basic services. During our visit the road to Thathi was still under construction.  A journey which took an hour on foot will soon be a few minutes drive.   Load-shedding was frequent and the disregard from the central government, to the people who are quite literally producing the bread and butter of the country, annoyed me.  I was impressed by the 3G coverage - especially given the hills in the area.  At times when we had no electricity, I was online talking to friends halfway across the world. 

The views from the top of the hill are from an old tomb known locally as Baba Shakhanseev.  It's still visited for blessings and it has a growing collection of hats left by grooms after their weddings for good luck.  The view from there is breathtaking and the photos don't do it justice.  The boys were standing right on edge seemingly oblivious to the vertical drop a foot away.  I didn't mention it worrying it would encourage them to show off. 

Having seen the place for myself and after a week or so staying there, I understand it a bit better than I did before.  My perception is my own and no longer relies on description and anecdotes other visitors from London share with me.  I am of course not surprised that life in London is a huge improvement for the current and older generations.  It's certainly the natural choice to bring up the next generation.  However I am unable to understand how little inspiration the Londoners who come from there have brought with them.  Those who are born in London have taken back even less.  I have no connection to this place, but my short stay there has made me appreciate what I have.  Life lessons aside, I also fell in love with its beauty and will remember many of its people fondly.  

Our little fig tree has made a complete recovery with healthy leaves and even some fruit!  Quite exciting really as it was given to us by my mother from her garden when it started showing signs of new life after an ordeal that gave the impression of its final days late November.  

It's been a while since I posted something from the garden, which according to my wife, is looking 'good'.  It's a relief to hear it as I've done very little in the past three months.  We have reached that time of year again, when we shake off the last of the cool (very relative and loose use of the word) weather and head towards the oven months when we can watch fruit and vegetables being roasted live from our windows. Delicate plants should now be covered from the burning sun, and watering needs to be more frequent.  I want to post a full update of our little haven, but I can't see that happening before the next season sometime in September.

If London was in one hand and coffee was in another, and I had to choose; my response would be that of Joey's (from Friends): 'Put your hands togeher' I would say, and would probably nod and smile in the same way too.  I'm here for a week and Sunday was the only day I was to be completely free.  My initial plan was street photography using my latest toy, the Fujifilm X10, but the rain has been constant all week, and the forecast was the same for the Sunday.  The met office have confirmed this April as the wettest since 1910. Luckily, I was getting a coffee last week when I came across the London Coffee Festival magazine.  I booked my ticket the same night and created a dream cocktail: London, photography and coffee. 

Roasteries, cafes, machine manufacturers, cup makers, cup-holder makers, cafe furniture people, you name it and it was there. Anything and anyone to do with coffee. I almost wished I got a stand for our Arabic coffee (dallah) as it's very little known and would be really appreciated by the people I saw here. I had more coffee in one day than I usually drink in a week.

The event was very well organised and I loved the small touches such as the booth names and numbers looking like London street signs.  There was also a lot of interesting contraptions.  The one below boils the water to the top chamber and once the coffee is mixed in it filters down when the bottom is empty as a vacuum is created in the connecting tube. 

Every coffee system you can imagine was on display, from state-of-the-art automatic machines to the good old-fashioned filter.  There were clever cup holders that allow you to carry six coffees in one hand; and my favourite, a lid that has a hole in the middle so you can enjoy the aroma of the coffee you're drinking. Lessons and competitions were organised throughout creating the perfect buzz. Live music and food made the place a little more sociable than a typical exhibition.  It was busier than I thought it would be but not over-crowded.

I would have been satisfied by the clever designs and meeting a few independent cafe owners, but this being London, I knew I would find something completely new.  I visited the booth of a company in the business of sample roasting.  They have patented the technology to control the roasting electronically by setting many variables for your desired roast.  You can control almost everything, and fifty grams a time you can have the perfect personalised roast in minutes.  The two trays below are before and after images of the same beans.  Ikawa are now moving into the consumer segment and will be selling their units as a home roasting solution.  If you grind your beans at home, this is the natural next step, but at the prices they mentioned to me, I think it will be years before George Cloony advertises for them.

Going back to the original plan for the Sunday, street photography here is promising.  My wife told me the place is interesting but I didn't realise how much.  I  haven't been around here for many years and I will come back in the summer to spend the day rediscovering it.

One of the first things I noticed, and seemingly one of the last things frequent visitors noticed, when we arrived closer to the village were the chimneys of the kilns where clay bricks are being cooked.  As we got further away from Islamabad, the narrow columns of black smoke in the distance were the unmistakeable clue.  As soon as we drove around the hill, the towers become visible as well as the tidy rows of bricks that were sitting, as if permanently, in the crevasses.  I asked my wife to ask one of the locals if these are indeed brick-makers, and he confirmed.

I became fascinated by them.  I've always known that the oldest bricks found in Babylon were around 6000 years old.  I don't remember when I read that (sometime in the nineties) but I remember immediately wanting to know how they were made to last thousands of years.  Twenty years later I saw the whole process in real life.  I didn't have a chance to spend a full day with the workers, but the main steps were very clear from the way everything was laid out.

The clay is stockpiled before it's moulded into shape.  It's then left to set - by the looks of it for days if not weeks - before being cooked in the kilns.  What baffles me is the way this process has evolved into a perfect production line that feeds the local market with the perfect amount.  How do they forecast sales, match demand, deliver on time and compete for business? Is it all local, or is this the brick-making capital of Punjab?  Questions only I'm afraid, I couldn't get the answers this time.

We did go off the main road to get close to a working group.  I managed to capture these images , so at least I'm able to share what we saw.  They saw us arrive, and watched me come out of the car and take pictures and didn't seem to mind at all.  A smile went a long way to give me enough time to capture a couple of close-ups.  I really missed a quality camera that day - and I missed the luxury of the time it takes to learn what they did and how they did it.

I fell in love with photography after it had matured into the digital age.  My first serious camera did not have a film in it but a memory card.  I missed photography's youth and early years of risk, high maintenance and excessive cost.  However, as I get deeper into the understanding of composition, light and exposure, I am fascinated by the film world.  I  can't see myself having a dark room and developing film - even if I have spent the last few weeks reading about the process in great detail.  But I do like the learn a little more.

If there is something that I 've wanted to try it's the cheaper plastic lens cameras like the Holga.  I like the idea of things not going 100% to plan and being surprised by the results of the images.  Hipstamatic has given me this without having to buy the cameras and film.  I'm sure it's not the full experience but I've been having so much fun with this app it needed a mention here.  There are hundreds of photography apps that allow you to use your phone and apply filters to images in post processing.  What I prefer is to have a think about what result I want to achieve, choosing the right film, lens and flash, and waiting (yes waiting) for the result after shooting.

Whether it's interesting angles with shades on architecture, or special views from a London bus, the fact that your phone is always with you means you can capture much more with it than with any camera.  Having the ability to have a camera 'feeling' especially prior to taking the shot means your phone images are not the same everytime you fire the shutter.

These images have all been taken using Hipstamatic.  My current phone is an iPhone 4 and I'm sure the 4S would give even sharper results.  I use the app at least once a day documenting special days like when I registered at University last week, or the not so special  when I've visited the dentist.  Their recent link to Instagram makes it even easier to share images; there and on other social media.  There is an option of tagging which 'equipment' were used in creating the image: an excellent way of finding themes for favourites. In fact the app allows you to store favourite combinations of different lenses, films and flashes.

This last image is a perfect example of what I would miss if I didn't use this app.  I pass this potted plant every day in my garden.  On this particular afternoon the light around it was just right.  I knew the result would be special, but I had no idea it would come out this beautiful.  I claim very little credit.

 Link: Hipstamatic

After nearly two weeks of annoying anyone who dared walk into my office, I am pleased to show the results.  I had set up a timelapse rig with lighting for the plants and a connection to my laptop for timed shots.  You will notice a lot of movement despite my fatherly protection.  I would have loved it more if the results were similar to 0:26 to 0:34 throughout.  However, I also wanted to capture different angles and to experiment a little.  In using a glass container I succeeded in showing the roots and the amazing early movement, but I neglected to consider drainage for the soil after watering it each night.  This, together with the unnatural light, have somewhat limited the growth of the rocket.  The glass sits outside on our garden table from today for a shot-in-the-'light' chance of the rocket maturing.

Depite all the things that did not go according to plan, I am pleased with the overall result.  The music in the backround is one of my favourite pieces of classical music: the Radetzky March by Johann Strauss (1848) and this particular one was performed by the Mantovani Orchestra.