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.

Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina. April 2004.

This building in the south-east of the city was on or near the front line for much of the 1992-96 siege. Eight years after the siege ended, when I took this picture, it was still impossible to enter the building due to unexploded ordinance, mines and booby traps. This is not unusual in Bosnia, where 10% of the country is even now – twelve years after the siege – a designated minefield. Many factories and schools can still not be used for this reason.

River Sava, Belgrade, Serbia. February 2004.

Belgrade is a hard place to like in many ways. I arrived on the overnight train from Budapest with no Serbian money – actually it was still called Yugoslavian money at the time – to find there were only two ATMs in the Serb capital, and both of them were in the lobby of the Intercontinental Hotel on the other side of town from the train station. I had to walk to the Intercontinental on a winter morning at -10ºC, feeling pretty grumpy. It turned out to be a quite wonderful walk though.

Karadjordjeva, Belgrade, Serbia. February 2004.

The early morning walk through Belgrade proved to me, yet again, the importance of being able to put out of your mind feelings of frustration or anger and focus on where you are and why you’re there. The light was fabulous and everywhere I looked I saw pictures. Snow always helps with black and white, of course. It gives your pictures a built-in impact.

Walking to work, Western Romania. October 2004.

This was taken at dawn from a moving train travelling across southern Romania. I love train travel, and the slower the trains the better. Sadly many countries are now replacing their old carriages, in which you could open the windows and take pictures, with the modern, air-conditioned, quiet, high-speed variety. In Romania they don’t even bother to close the doors on the carriages, so you can hang right out with your camera and the whole landscape is your subject.

Walking to work, Sudbahnhof, Vienna. October 2003.

Train stations are one of the staples of a photographer’s visual diet. Many people moving past your lens, just passing through, thinking only of where they are going or who they are going to meet and hardly aware of their environment. Sadly many stations now employ staff who’s sole job appears to be telling anyone who pulls out a camera that pictures are forbidden.

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.

Heldenplatz, Vienna, Austria. January 2004.

Vienna in the snow. The flakes were huge and falling so gently that, when they landed, they barely seemed to touch the snow already lying. The Viennese take to the snow like it’s their natural element. Fabulous coats and hats, special boots, they look wonderful as they move through the glamorous backdrop of their city centre. Taking pictures in the snow has it’s own dangers – snow flakes are far worse than raindrops for getting water inside the camera and wreaking havoc.

Kapitulská, Bratislava, Slovakia. November 2003.

I had a very early arrival in the city of Bratislava and spent a few hours wandering the streets as night gave way to a misty dawn. Long before the shops and cafés opened (and I was ready to commit a mortal sin for a coffee) the city’s clerics began their daily routine – as well drilled as a ship’s crew at sea. One must wonder how long the societies of eastern Europe will remain so deeply religious, with the increasing influence of western secularism.

Michaelerplatz, Vienna, Austria. October 2003.

Belief in balance and conformity is something of a tradition in Vienna, and you frequently see expressions of it as you walk around the city. I enjoy taking pictures in the flat light of northern Europe at this time of year, so much less demanding than the searing, knife-like light of the Mediterranean. I find myself seeing different things when the light is soft, more how things actually look and not how the light makes things look.