the second day out there i reloaded my little lomo lc-a, and as often happens to my cranky camera, the winder got stuck. i took the film out, put it back in, tried to wind it, but no luck. so i left it in the apartment for the rest of the week, and only took pictures on my digital camera.

usually, i carry 2 cameras around with me. one film one digital, just in case one or the other dies, runs out of batteries, film, memory space, or just refuses to co-operate. this makes my bag doubly heavy, but there’s no substitute for the chemical smell of a new roll of film popping out of its cylinder, or the shiny brown plasticky look that’s slightly sticky. i use the digital camera for documentary, and the film camera for the romance of photography.

and when i return from a holiday, i absolutely love sending my film off to the developers - i use a mail-order film processing service, i send the film off and they send my photos back. they’re much better than the film processing counters available in chemists, and i don’t trust the high street shops because i’ve seen how they use shoddy paper and are generally just rubbish at working the machines. anyway, i like the whole process of waiting. the build-up of excitement and anticipation, will they come out alright? did i get the light just right? was my choice in setting the camera at ISO 200 but using 400 film right? were the images overexposed? did i manage to GET IT? the feel, the location, the smell, the mood?

and when the pictures come back, i like picking out the ones i think best represent my vision of the holiday, then putting them together in a photo-album. although photo-album isn’t perhaps the right word. it’s really just a scrap book, pictures stuck on black card paper with pritt stick (like UHU stick, but with a sickeningly sweet smell), and bound together by punching holes along one side and weaving string or yarn or twine through the holes. or, in a pinch, stapling them together, and then hiding the staples with a strip of colourful paper/fabric.

so, this time, because there aren’t any photos from my lc-a, there won’t be a photoscrapbook. and my memories will only be partially supplemented by the photos taken on my digital camera. which is a shame, because i enjoy the process of it all. and it’s also annoying because when i went through the rigmarole of loading it with film on the last day, just for fun, it decided to work again the damned thing.

matt suggested i could print the digital photos and put them together, but i know i’ll never do that. whilst it would result in the same product, it’s just not the same thing. y’know?

i’ve been to berlin and back.

i’d like to describe it in touristy detail, but unfortunately i spent a lot of the week in ikea and bauhaus (literally, buildhouse, a monstrous hardware store). and also trekking around the junk shops filled to the gills with salvaged furniture, clothes and kitsch from dead granny’s flats. they were great.

we decided on a new game while out there. in august, when i’ll be there for a month, we’ll play the alphabet game where we have to eat at places according to the letters of the alphabet without repetition. 26 different places, that’ll take aorund 2 weeks if we include breakfasts and lunches into the game. but perhaps it’ll only be dinners. we’ll see.

coming back to london is always a relief, but i hold my breath (not literally, though) until i swing the door of the flat open and see that everything is still there. one of my greatest fears is to arrive back at the flat and see nothing.

anyway, as i’m still on holiday till next week, it’s been catching up with reading and pottering on the balcony. salads are in sprout, as are tomatoes. the herbs have been divided/re-potted, and the chillies are rallying round to the warm weather. i’ve managed to finish i capture the castle by dodie smith, and am three-quarters of the way through the mandarins by simone de beauvoir.

next up: a second reading of the magus by john fowles, or finishing the naked lunch by william s. burroughs which i’ve left languishing for the past year or so.