Every time we drive through Bilpin along Bells Line of Road, we stop at one of the roadside shops that sell local fruit and veg. And in autumn it’s all about apples. And the apple pies. But since we’ve both gone gluten free, apple pie from Bilpin is now out of the question. Which only leaves us one option – buy apples and make your own pie. Or even better – pick them yourself! Not sure why I didn’t think of this before? Year after year, we kept driving past the orchards, never stopping anywhere except for a couple of familiar fruit shops to buy apples, honey, maybe some chestnuts (I still haven’t figured out what to do with those by the way), and to grab a quick coffee. Until now.

As we were walking up and down the hill through the orchard, buckets in hand, as we were picking the ripe, beautiful apples off the branches and biting into crunchy goodness, I thought – it’s so easy to be happy. All these little things  hardly cost anything but make our hearts swell. Like a heavy, juicy apple, warm under the autumn sun, just hanging off a branch, almost ready to fall on soft grass.

And since it’s the last day of the month, there is a self-portrait among these images. Nothing fancy, just a snap of my happy face, surrounded by apple tree leaves.

Abundance is all around us.

Otherwise you will miss most of our life”.

- Buddha

Before the holiday mood wears off, before summer becomes a memory, before the layers of the new year start piling, one over another, or, let’s just say it, it’s too late to have pictures of Christmas tree posted on the front page of my blog, I would like to share a few images from our South Australian family Christmas holiday that continued into a beautiful road trip  from Adelaide to Bendigo to High Country Victoria to Sydney.

Adelaide welcomed us by windy but rather comfortable weather.

“I wish I could fly, into the sky, so very high..”

Someone doesn’t mind looking rather foolish (but super-cute) in exchange to being the centre of attention on Christmas morning:

Mum’s cactus flower that decided to bloom right on Christmas day:

Wide open spaces, sun setting into the ocean, tumbleweed that leaves weird marks on the sand and then decides to go for a swim:

Port Willunga, combining the perfect beach setting, and the happiest memories of photographing these two gorgeous people celebrating their wedding day in this particular spot:

 And some wine tasting, ahem, location scouting for a wedding in March this year (McLaren Vale, you are one beautiful spot to get married):

Oh Handorf… The first German settlement in Australia, you still carry all the old-word charms despite the crowds of tourists and the souvenir shops and the traffic. One of my most favourite places to be when we visit Adelaide.

With Mum. Gardening shop.

Live band playing Christmas carols in the hot midday sun:

 And we did not leave Handorf without some beautiful Coober Pedy opals:

But the main event of our Handorf trip this year was the visit to The Cedars, where Hans Heysen, one of the most famous, most poetic Australian landscape artists (and one of  the people who inspire me endlessly) lived and worked, where gum trees that graced his paintings still stand. We were inside his studio. I could not take pictures there, but I made memories. I saw the watercolour brushes that were the medium between the master and his creations. I saw the dried paint tubes, palettes, unfinished work on his easel. His energy is still there.

Hans Heysen was also the pioneer of caravaning in Australia. This Ford Model A and this caravan accompanied Heysen to Flinders Ranges on his painting trips.

Back in Adelaide. Beautiful Semaphore, it is gorgeous at any time of the day. Even when the crazy wind is messing with your hair, and  sand is flying around you like snow.

Ta-daa! Burra Homestead. One of the most recognized, most iconic buildings of the Australian outback.

Wheat. Well, gluten. I cannot eat it but I can take pictures of it.

Claire Valley vineyards. This particular one, Sevenhill, was established by Jesuits in 1851. The church that was built back then still stands, surrounded by grapevines.

Annie’s Lane cellar door. One of those bottles travelled up to the mountains with us (more on that below).

Mum’s Birthday. No, the cat was not the present, and she did not come with roses. She was there for the ribbons, again. And the box of course, what cat doesn’t know the value of an empty box. Hours of free entertainment.

And then we wandered streets of Adelaide.

And visited the Botanical Gardens.

And Mount Lofty.

And then we drank champagne.

And ate beautiful food.

And back to Semaphore.

Largs Pier Hotel, that takes quite a place in Australian music history. As per the hotel’s website, “during the 70s and 80s the hotel began to establish its reputation as an important Aussie Music icon. Jimmy Barnes with Cold Chisel, AC/DC, The Little River Band and The Angels all played here during the early days of their careers. Bon Scott, who later became the lead singer of AC/DC, even met his wife at the Largs Pier Hotel after a gig in 1971.”  Wait, there is more. This place had the very first drive-through bottle shop in Australia, opened in 1953. I also highly recommend their food – beautiful treat after a day spent at the beach.

St Kilda. Rather different from Melbourne’s St Kilda. Hot, flat, open. Plus pirates.

New Year Eve. Semaphore again. Fireworks.

And on the 1st of January we started our drive to Bendigo via the labyrinth of Victorian country roads, with a quick turnoff to see The Grampians:

Beautiful Bendigo, full of history and lovely buildings. Would love to photograph a wedding there one day (just throwing it out there )

High Country. The drive there was exhilarating (also long and often scary), the views unbelievable.

Admiring Christmas presents from Mum at the hotel:

And then we decided to watch the sunset from the top of Mount Hotham.

Yep, according to the map of the village sunset is that way.

The bottle that made it with us from the vastness of Claire Valley to the top of the mountain.

Look at those views…

Alpine grass, and snowgums rising above it.

The End  And a big thank you for making it all the way through this super long post!

]]> http://www.anastasiaphotography.com.au/2013/01/22/happy-snaps/feed/ 2 http://www.anastasiaphotography.com.au/2012/12/31/life-is-a-road-trip/ http://www.anastasiaphotography.com.au/2012/12/31/life-is-a-road-trip/#comments Sun, 30 Dec 2012 23:45:14 +0000 Anastasia http://www.anastasiaphotography.com.au/?p=3881 “When you are everywhere, you are nowhere. When you are somewhere, you are everywhere.”

 - Rumi

It’s the end of the year, the time when you look back at everything that has happened, leave it behind, and look forward to the beginning of a new adventure.  There is something unexplored, unknown  and very exciting that is almost here, but you still have a bit of time to reflect on the past.

It is the perfect time to get on the road. To see  wide open spaces and big sky, to sing songs in the car, to have an unplanned turnoff to a scenic drive, to get on top of the hill to find new perspective, to find a remote and completely empty beach, to go back to the places you’ve been before, that flood your heart with the warmth of sweet memories.

When we travel the hours feel completely different. Days are long. Every moment is honoured. Everything is possible.

According to Aerosmith, “life’s a journey, not a destination”.

But I think it’s a bit of both.  You just need to find the balance. Every tired traveller is grateful for the place to rest at the end of the road.

I am wishing you the most balanced 2013.

Below image was taken at Burra, South Australia, where earth is red and fields are golden. You can’t see it, but behind one of those hills is one of the most iconic Australian scenes  – Burra Homestead, that  was made famous by Ken Duncan, and when it made it to the cover of “Diesel and Dust” by Midnight Oil. It has been photographed thousands of times before. I now have a picture of it too, and you will see it next year, when the present becomes memories.

   -Pat Montandon

I have a thing for bridges. They connect the opposites, open new possibilities. They fascinate me endlessly with their elegance and beauty and engineering marvelousness.  And that’s why the Golden Gate Bridge was very high on my wish list of things to see with my own eyes for as long as I can remember.

I keep coming back to the images from that road trip, one of the best road trips we have done (well, maybe it is THE best), across Northern California and Pacific Northwest, just over a year ago.  It started and finished in San Francisco, giving us plenty of chances to see the bridge from near and far, walk the bridge, touch its steel cables, be stuck in traffic in the middle of the bridge, etc. etc. I was happy.

The City by the Bay played its famous trick on us pretty much as soon as we arrived. The sun was shining, the air was clear and deceptively warm. Dragging our jet-lagged selves up the Powell Street hill and then down the hill toward the Fisherman’s Wharf made us feel even warmer.  And then the fog rolled in. Right at the time when we climbed onto the open-top, bright-red, super-touristy bus that would take us to the Golden Gate. To finally see it with our own eyes. Everything was suddenly gray, wet, miserable, and it became incredibly cold. Bone-penetratingly cold.

And that’s how we met. The Bridge and a bus load of shaking tourists, in the thick milky fog that revealed the engineering wonder bit by bit, cable by cable, as we made our way through the slow Labour Day weekend traffic.

Thankfully San Francisco fogs do not hang, they roll. And we did see the bridge in all its glory, but later. In midday sun, glowing red. At sunset, from Baker Beach. At night,  from Fort Point. And I took hundreds and hundreds of pictures of it, from every angle possible, so I could go back to those moments when I stood in front of it in awe.

Ahhh, SF. We did not have enough days to explore all you have to offer but we certainly did our best. And thank you for letting my wish come true.

- John Muir

It takes twelve hours. From stepping out the door of our Sydney apartment to stepping onto the shores of Lake Tekapo.  Drive to the airport, park the car, check in, customs, a cup of strong coffee in the empty terminal  (it is too early, what was I thinking), get on the plane, watch a movie, land in Christchurch, get off the plane, pick up the bags, customs, rental car, drive for three hours, check into Peppers Bluewater, grab the camera, run outside. Breathe deeply. This is where a part of my heart lives.

It is funny, every time we drive there I am panicking in the car – how will the light be?? Will the white peaks welcome us from far away, or they will be wrapped in clouds, not making an appearance for a while? Will it rain? Will I be able to photograph the sunset or it will be wet and grey and dark when we arrive?

Guess what. Every time we arrive, it rains. But then there is a rainbow. Always. There is a hundred percent chance for me to see the rainbow when I am in Lake Tekapo. I am not sure what it is, but it is one of the reasons I believe in the magic of that place. And the best photos are always from those crazy days when clouds and rain and sunshine and rainbows and fog and wind are all happening around us.

Lake Tekapo, Lake Pukaki, Mount Cook, Lindis Pass. My four favourite spots in the vastness of the Mackenzie Country, a big open space where mountains rise up to the sky, and the only traffic jam you can find yourself in is when a herd of sheep is crossing the road. Where you can photograph the sunset light on Mount Cook from the balcony of your hotel room. Where the water is turquoise and opaque. Where the hills look like velvet (or chocolate). Where a helicopter takes you up to the sky to be amongst the  snowy peaks and fly above the ancient ice of the glaciers.

A place where dreams come true. And it is only twelve hours away.

Travel tips: when travelling to the Mackenzie,  we always rent cars from Apex Rentals, stay in Peppers Bluewater Resort in Lake Tekapo (the surprisingly affordable Deluxe Lakeview Hotel Room is our choice, we found that regular rooms are just too small plus have no view), and The Hermitage in Mount Cook (standard Mount Cook View rooms are great – they have balconies and are located in the recently renovated wing).

And I highly recommend a helicopter flight with The Helicopter Line – that experience will stay with me forever. 

- Hans Christian Andersen

Our New Zealand getaway was all about one of my very first photographic passions – landscape. We were spoiled by the weather throughout the whole trip – clear roads, clear skies, lots of pink and purple and orange clouds at sunrises and sunsets (I did hope too see snow falling but oh well, at least we did not have any disruptions due to closed roads). My tripod was out in the open, happy to finally be of service after a long landscape drought on my creative path.

If you find yourself in Queenstown make sure you make it to Glenorchy area too, a 50k drive along Lake Wakatipu, one of the most scenic drives we’ve ever experienced. Sometimes it can be a bit of a roller coaster, but is rather easy and comfortable for the majority of the way. Glenorchy feels so far away from everything, especially after getting lost on Queenstown’s busy streets. A bit of trivia: this little corner of the world was a set for the following movies: Lord of the Rings, X-Men, The Chronicles of Narnia and Vertical Limit. It does feel like you have stepped into a fairy tale when you stand there, surrounded by the snow-capped mountains and vast open space and silence.

Landscape photography in Queenstown is rather glamorous. You leave your hotel, stroll on a pathway along the lake shore to your chosen location for around five minutes, take a few long exposures, pack your tripod, and stroll back to town for a fancy dinner. My tripod had never been to so many nice eateries before!

And we made it to “The Tree” in Wanaka. This willow, rising out of the waters of lake Wanaka, might be the most photographed tree in New Zealand. Actually I think it really is the most photographed tree. And now I have a few images (quite a few as you can see!) of that lonely willow in my collection.

Ahh, the south of The South Island. We love your magic.

I kept my promise. Which I am planning to break in the next couple of years as I am no longer eleven and have a little bit more courage and control of my core muscles (or so I think).

I enjoy cross-country skiing though (but it’s a whole separate blog post).

Anyway, when in Queenstown in winter one must have an encounter with snow. You kind of don’t blend with the July crowd over there if you do not have a healthy glow and a dreamlike expression on your face, and skis on your shoulders. Since I was not ready to break the spell of my childhood memories of the ski incident but wanted to have that pink glow we opted for snowshoeing. Which was the best fun we had in ages!

Snowshoeing in New Zealand is quite new and is becoming very popular. If you are ever in Queenstown you have to do it, especially if you don’t ski but love snow. Our guide Errol (who is the most friendly, knowledgeable and super-relaxed person) picked us up from the hotel early in the morning and off we went up the gravel road that leads to The Remarkables snow area.  The views from that gravel road (and the drive itself) are heart-stopping and hard to describe in words but I managed to snap a few lovely pictures from the car so you can see for yourself. At the base we layered up, put the snowshoes on and started climbing up the mountain to the amusement of the skiers gliding above us in the cozy chairlift seats. BUT they didn’t know that WE can leave the bustle of the slopes behind, go past the “Danger, exit at your own risk” sign and enjoy the wide open winter wonderland at the frozen lake Alta and uninterrupted views of Single Cone and Double Cone all to ourselves with the exception of three snow patrol guys who were having fun on the fresh snow, ahem, working their territory. And silence, that silence…

The rest you can see below.

I can say I did feel like I belonged when we returned back to town, despite not having skis on my shoulders.

And big thanks to my darling for all the pictures of me in this set. You are an amazing photographer.

And here is Errol at work! Don’t you just love his office space and his business attire?

You can book your showshoeing fun at http://www.snowshoeing.co.nz/

(and no, we did not get paid for this promotion we paid our full fare, and would come back any time and do it again)

- George Wherry, Alpine Notes and the Climbing Foot, 1896

Mount Cook. Towering above New Zealand. My love at first sight. All other mountains that I have met in my life are undoubtedly no less majestic and eternal and beautiful, but standing in front of Mount Cook makes my heart flutter like nowhere else in the world.

This July I felt blessed. I spent time watching Mount Cook from the southern end of Lake Pukaki, across the teal waters. In the morning, in the afternoon, at sunset. I cheered when the morning clouds disappeared and revealed the mountain in all its snowy glory, rising high above the wide open space of the Mackenzie Country. I witnessed the most magical sunset clouds making the mountain glow pink. I woke up at The Hermitage and captured the first light kissing the top of Mount Cook, well before  the rays reached the valley. I hiked towards the glacier lake at the foot of the mountain, feeling tiny and humble, and free.  I sat wide-eyed (and I am afraid wide-open-mouthed too) as we flew in the helicopter towards it, and then around it, on the same level as the highest peak.

I watched it becoming smaller and smaller and then disappear over horizon on the day we left New Zealand.  First from our car, then from our plane window, my face pressed to the glass until the white peaks stopped glistening and the vastness of the ocean took over.

See you next time, Mount Cook. I will miss you. But I have your pictures, in my heart.

It is everywhere – in light shining through coloured glass,  in moody winter skies, in lavender bush growing through the fence ornament, in bright-green colour of chopped vegies. Beauty is everywhere around us, and I can’t stop repeating myself that Instagram helps us see it in things we often would just go past without paying much attention.

Or to quickly capture the magic of the morning rainbow that only lasted a minute or so, and share it with the world. It is so easy to grab your phone and record that moment, take notice.

Or to have that tiny camera ready in the warm pocket of your down jacket while snowshoeing thorough a blizzard in The Remarkables.

We have just spent the most amazing week in one the dearest to my heart places – the South Island of New Zealand. Stay tuned for more pictures from the photographer’s paradise! There definitely will be more than one blog post about our adventures there. But for now, here are a few Instagram moments of my July:

]]> http://www.anastasiaphotography.com.au/2012/07/24/beauty-in-every-moment/feed/ 1 http://www.anastasiaphotography.com.au/2012/07/13/hunter-valley-photographer/ http://www.anastasiaphotography.com.au/2012/07/13/hunter-valley-photographer/#comments Fri, 13 Jul 2012 10:51:44 +0000 Anastasia http://www.anastasiaphotography.com.au/?p=2184 “A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread–and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness–
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!”

- Omar Khayyam

The changing colours of vine leaves. The eternal circle of birth, ripening, harvesting, rest. Oh Hunter Valley, how you inspire me – your landscape, your country roads, your cellar doors, your warmth, and lovely picnic spots. And your wine of course.

These pictures are spanning six years, three different camera models and I don’t know how many bottles of Shiraz. We have been to the Hunter so many times I have lost count – just the two of us, and with our friends and family and  overseas visitors, and again just the two of us. Our faces are recognized in a couple of wineries which always makes us come back there again and again, to talk about difference in vintages, undiscovered beauty of Hunter Pinot, and cellar door manager’s relatives in New Zealand. We have seen every season in full force – new tiny bright-green grapes in spring; heavy, full of life and promise summer fruit; red flame of autumn leaves; naked and frozen vines in winter.  We celebrated our anniversaries and birthdays, shot weddings, watched our favourite artists perform among the grapes, or just went up there on a Sunday because we felt like it. We watched the orange summer sun rising above the vineyards, promising the 45-degree heat in February, and worn our warmest down jackets while witnessing a frosty winter sunrise in July.

And I always had my camera with me.

If you are ever there, stop by these lovely places:

Draytons

First Creek

Krinklewood

Shakey Tables Restaurant  (their food is a work of art!)

Happy Friday! Hope you have the cosiest weekend.