Playa Levante, Benidorm, Spain. June 2002.

Everyone needs a holiday, I guess. To be honest I always feel a little uneasy taking pictures on a beach as many people assume you’re just a pervert. Indeed they’ve made it illegal in Benidorm after too many pictures of topless women appeared on websites without the subject’s permission.

Puerto de Javea, Spain. August 2007.

Not all the games that they play with bulls in Spain end up in the death of the animal. Here the young men of Javea encourage the bulls to follow them into the water. It rarely happens, but when it does there is great celebration and the bull is simply guided to a slipway where it climbs out, back onto the truck.

Barrio Mercado, Valencia, Spain. February 2002.

Spanish cities have an extraordinary texture to them, like a well worn leather jacket. They’re comfortable, you can see the evidence of the passing years. The patina of age, I believe the antiques people call it. This patina is very fragile however, and with more money to spend many Spanish authorities have revamped their cites to disastrous visual effect. It’s like someone taking away your old leather jacket and giving you a new one – it’s all very well, but it’s just not the same.

San Vincente del Mar, Galicia, Spain. December 2002.

When the Prestige oil tanker sank, fully laden, off the coast of Galicia in north eastern Spain her cargo soon showed up on the beaches and the rocky coast. I’d never witnessed an oil recovery operation before and I was amazed by the ‘one handful at a time’ nature of the thing. This gentleman had just spent the whole day picking lumps of crude oil off the rocks by hand. His expression says to me ‘I know a little about the true cost of oil’.

Pigeons in Formation, Valencia, Spain. May 2002.

I don’t know why I started to take this picture, just one of those scenes that look interesting in some way I guess, and then the pigeons started to move about in my viewfinder as if choreographed. This is a perfectly typical scene in Valencia, a city of hundreds of churches and thousands of church doors, but this simple picture has remained one of my favourites out of the countless photographs I have taken there.

Calle Vitoria, Valencia, Spain. May 2002.

What first caught my eye here was the light reflected on the street, and then the shapes painted on the wall which seem to mimic the pools of light, then the back end of the scooter which, for some reason, is sticking out onto the pavement. While I was preparing to take the picture this guy walked past me and hurried down the street, adding a sense of movement, and the composition was completed. This is one of my favourite pictures.

Fiestas Patronales, Segorbe, Spain. September 2007

The town fiestas in Spain, when the main square is covered with sand and barriers are built around it, offer the local youths the opportunity to show off any skills they have in working with bulls. This is mostly little more than good natured fooling, but sometimes someone steps out of the crowd who clearly knows what he’s doing. This chap, who has take the time to dress properly for the occasion, is executing a perfect pass with a young bull.

Plaza Redonda, Valencia, Spain. September 2002.

Sunday mornings are always the time for the pet animal market in the centre of Valencia. This gentleman, a budgerigar breeder, was standing on the sunlit side of the small circular plaza with the light falling on his back and his white table acting as a reflector in front of him. I don’t think he was really as sinister as he looks.

Fiesta de Santo Domingo, Jalón, Spain. August 2007.

In the early hours of the morning, during the fiestas in the villages of eastern Spain, when the party is in full swing, a bull is released into the town with flaming torches clamped to its horns. The spectacle sounds horrifying, but in my experience the bulls seem – astonishingly – to behave no differently with the fire. I have never seen the frantic head shaking or other signs of terror that one might expect.

Bar Jimmy Glass, Valencia, Spain. September 2002.

For me, using light is one of photography’s greatest joys. Although I don’t like to create the light deliberately by artificial means, I love to use artificial light if it’s available. Here there was little else to do anyway, and I wanted to capture the intensity with which this guy was playing his pool.