
A Provencal door-knocker.

A Provencal door-knocker.

You know the theory that workaholics are the way they are because, deep down, they’re lazy? Well, I think it’s true. Since arriving in Provence I’ve done, well… precisely nothing except sit around, read, go to cafes and swim. True, I did tackle the cliff path yesterday, but that was mainly to get to the village without using the car. And even then I spent a few hours sitting around, people-watching and reading. And taking the odd photograph, as of this lovely little chap enjoying a fountain.

My conclusion? The worst thing that could happen to me would be winning the Lottery.

This just has to be the photo accessory of the decade. I think it was Michael who discovered it first, and then Quentin had one, and I was reduced to photographing theirs while grinding my teeth in envy. Now, as a belated birthday present from my lovely daughter, I have one too. Yippee!

I’m not into geotagging, but if I were this would be useful. The Nikon Coolpix P6000 has a built-in GPS unit which enables the coordinates of each image to be recorded. An Ethernet port built into the camera then lets you connect it to the web and log your picture locations on a Nikon image map service — and, eventually no doubt, on Wikipedia and Google Earth.

Well, it’s one way of linking two buildings, I suppose. The Royal Opera House is the one on the right.


Spotted in a friend’s garden.

Sunset in Donegal, around 10pm last night.
And, yeah, I know it’s a cod postcard cliché, but what the hell. It actually happened today.


Spotted (and photographed) by Fiona in a Donegal field. At first we thought it a tribute to the literacy of Irish crows — and then realised that it was a hangover from the Referendum on the Lisbon Treaty