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Munich is an attractive, vibrant city with grand buildings, wide streets and a welcoming atmosphere. The Lonely Planet describes it like this: “The natural habitat of well-heeled power dressers and lederhosen-clad thigh-slappers, Mediterranean-style street cafes and Mitteleuropa beer halls, high-brow art and high-tech industry, Germany’s second city is a flourishing success story that revels in its own contradictions. If you’re looking for Alpine clichés, they’re all here, but the Bavarian metropolis sure has many an unexpected card down its Dirndl.”

And so Munich was our holiday destination for the Christmas period. Despite ALL of the shops being closed between the 24th-26th December, and just missing out on the last of the Christmas markets, there was no shortage of eateries, beer halls and coffee shops to keep us in good spirits. We spent much of our time wandering around the streets in the snow, dipping in and out of coffee shops or sampling gluhwein, bratwurst, saurkraut, schnitzel, apfelstrudel and spatzle (not necessarily in that order). I did a few sketches while I was relaxing, so here is part one!

And so 2015 begins!

A quick sketch to start the new year. I hope 2015 will have more cartoons and also a few photos as I’ve just embarked on a 365 project. I’ll be taking a photo a day for the whole of 2015. If you’d like to keep track, then follow me on Flickr.

Best wishes for a fabulous New Year everyone!

Airport Security

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Airport security is a real chore. Gone are the days when you could turn up at the last minute, throw your bag through the scanner and expect to rush through security to catch your flight just as it was boarding. Now you have to give yourself plenty of time to allow for a full de-robing, body search and Spanish inquisition at the security gates. Don’t get me wrong, the Government is keeping us safe, but I’m forever amazed that even after the enforced de-clothing and de-cluttering of one’s person, I can STILL walk through the scanner and set the alarm off! I’m quite sure that no part of me that is metal, yet it happens to me every time…

Lens Envy

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Over the past few weeks I’ve been to France and back (twice), visited a seal colony on the East coast, watched the famous Lipizzaner Stallions perform, completed two commissions for a colleague’s fashion blog and a friend’s Christmas card, I’ve been to three theatre shows and much more beyond my powers of recall. Is it any wonder that I’ve been rather lax with my cartoons?

While in France, I met with family to visit the annual natural history photographic exhibition in Montier-en-Der. The five day event brings well over 30,000 visitors to – as a French man put it to us – the ‘butt end of nowhere’. Thousands of awe inspiring photographs are displayed at exhibitions in and around Montier-en-Der – it was impossible to see everything in a single day. But we tried. We spent eight hours driving from village to village, ducking in and out of tiny town halls, schools and church yards, oohing and aaahing over the images. For the most part, I was green with envy and had a persistent nagging feeling that I should give up my job, travel the world and track musk ox, or penguins, or polar bears, or field mice, or macaques, or whales, or lynx…the list goes on.

It was, of course, compulsory to saunter around the optics, camera and accessories tent – a place for those who had a bit of spare cash and were hoping to pick up a lens or two for the cheap, cheap price of £15,000 each! The poorer photographers, myself included, were simply left drool over the 1200mm lens which would give you enough zoom to photograph the nose hairs of a red squirrel high in a tree. If you were feeling particularly masochistic, you could test the equipment on your own camera. Rows and rows of predominately male photographers could be seen with lenses as long as your arm, testing their ‘zoominess’ on the banks of the lake where one of the exhibitions was taking place. Over their shoulders peered green-eyed paupers feeling inadequate with their shorter, less zoomy lenses. I couldn’t help noting the similarities between this, and other male displays of virility…

Conversation Stopper

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Autumn is here – my favourite time of year! Scrunchy leaves. Clear, crisp skies. Seeing your breath. Warm coats and scarves. Squirrels manically burying seeds. Irresistibly shiny conkers that you just have to pocket. Log fires and a palette of golds, reds, browns and oranges that make you want to paint or write poetry! This is not however, the topic of my cartoon.

Last week I was chatting to L about the day’s events on my walk home from work, when along the path bounced the most adorable puppy. Anyone who knows me, will know that I’m a sucker for anything cute and fluffy. I’ve been known to fight my way through a crowd to stroke some unsuspecting mutt, whilst L marches ahead with embarrassment muttering “She’s not with me. She’s not with me”. Just the sight of a ball of fluff will more than likely cause me to let out an uncontrollable squeal of joy followed by a gush of unintelligible coos and babbles as I stroke and hug said creature to death. I’ve even been known to shout ‘hello’ to cows and wave to cats…Yes, I would agree, these are not the actions of a sane person.

So, when I spied the puppy running down the path, without a moment’s thought or warning, I hung up mid-conversation. Just like that. It wasn’t until after I’d had my fill of puppy cuddles that I realised what I’d done. Understandably, L was a little bemused by the sudden disconnection – was the network down? did I drop my phone? had I been attacked by a mad axeman? When I finally rang back to explain what had happened, she was not in the least bit surprised, for nothing can come between me and a puppy!

Close encounters of the herd kind

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Last weekend we headed down to Shropshire for a change of scenery and a spot of camping. We’ve been camping every year for nearly 15 years and every year I’m filled with excitement at the ‘idea’ of communing with nature, cooking over an open stove and exploring my surroundings. Somehow, the reality never quite lives up to the ‘idea’. But, in a masochistic sort of way, I enjoy the uncomfortable sleeping, the 5am dawn chorus, the rain showers and leaky tents, the midges, the toilets located 5 minutes from your pitch and the cold nights etc.

This year was particularly cold after we forgot to bring some vital equipment, namely the sleeping bags (amongst other things). Before you judge, I recently spoke to a friend who forgot the family tent on one trip, so my incompetency levels haven’t quite hit rock bottom.

This year our destination was The Buzzards a delightful little campsite (listed in Tiny Campsites, by Dixie Wills) on an organic smallholding. Elaine, the owner, is full of beans and more than happy to help you with anything you may need (including sleeping bags!). She handily sits on the tourism board for the area so can supply you with a leaflet or map for every nook and cranny worth visiting in the area. If you fancy exploring some quintessentially English villages, taste testing cider, tromping around medieval ruins and beautiful countryside, then Shropshire is a good choice.

Now to the cartoon. Yes this did happen. We did get chased by a large herd of cows (approximately 22 of them) across two fields and over a fence. I have video footage though it is mainly of the ground whizzing past as I run for safety – accompanied by a soundtrack of “wait for me” and “oh my God!” and lots of heavy breathing. On reflection, I think the cows were more intent on getting a closer look at us, but having read numerous stories of people being trampled to death, I didn’t want to take any chances by facing up to them. Except of course to film it!