The regional trains to Sighișoara are older models; wear on each surface fighting hard to preempt undoing by any future restoration efforts. Entire families fill each cabin, making the journey north from Brașov to the villages dotted along the train’s route. The cabins occupy most of the carriage’s already-narrow width, with only a single corridor along one side, barely wide enough to walk along without coming into contact with windows, doors, walls, or other passengers. My ticket had no seat marked on it, so I wandered down to one of the few openable windows and prepared myself for a few hours of standing. Continue reading “Trainsylvania”

Into the Transylvanian Hills

I departed Bucharest as early as possible aboard the northbound interregional train to Brașov. Groups of teenagers filled sections of facing seats; older couples looked out the window while their young children slept, slumped sideways into their parents’ laps; someone brought a portable speaker on board which was playing electronic hip-hop music with English vulgarities scattered … Continue reading Into the Transylvanian Hills

Ambianța Bucureștiului

I arrived in Bucharest this afternoon knowing only the number of a bus route to the center of town, the time of my return flight later in the week, and two phrases in Romanian. I had picked up “mulțumesc” and “nu vorbesc românește” just in case. Whenever I travel, locals often ask me for directions, so I like to have a polite (and clear) way to indicate that I can’t provide them with much information of use. I’m still not sure why that happens so often. Continue reading “Ambianța Bucureștiului”

Fashion… and Lemons

A few weeks ago, I went over to the Glasgow School of Art to photograph its 70th annual fashion show, produced entirely by the school’s students. 56 students in the fashion and textile design programs had their knits, weaves, prints, and embroideries featured in the runway show, and simply put, it was amazing stuff. Even … Continue reading Fashion… and Lemons

A Wee Stroll About the Grounds

The Argyll forest’s spidery green footprint fills the glens of Cairndow and Dunoon, the ridges of bens and munros bare and heathery above the sudden treeline. Just a mile southeast of the villages Glenbranter and Invernoaden, the long and narrow Loch Eck fills one such glen. At the Loch’s southern point, it drains into the River Eachaig, which meanders further on, past the small pale cabins of a holiday park, and right on by a huge brick manor and an array of broad, flat fields. This manor and its fields, and the endlessly sprawling grounds beyond, are Benmore. Continue reading “A Wee Stroll About the Grounds”


As a result of the recent fair weather and a drive to get out of the flat more often, I was just yesterday discussing the apparent lack of workspaces in town with one of my flatmates, who suggested that I try out a nearby café he has recently been frequenting on his walks (a nice perk of Glasgow’s small size is how easily one can get around to new places on foot). There’s no time like the present, so I put his recommendation into action first thing this morning and headed out for a big iced tea to accompany the day’s work. Continue reading “Fire!”