Now you see her....

and now you don't. Goodbye Karina! See you in Norway once the snow melts.

First snow

Snowflakes in Karina's hair. The first snow this winter fell early on Saturday morning. It was beautiful. I don't think I will ever get over the magic of it.

First frost

This is my 200th post! Blogging this year has been so rewarding in so many ways for me. To celebrate I am offering a little giveaway. A print of any photo of your choice from my blog or website. Just leave a comment below and I'll draw a winner on Friday the 3rd of December. 


A cold, wet, rainy night. A pop-up exhibition. Wine, friends and amazing paintings by Alvaro Sotomayor.

Alvaro's exhibiton - Toro, is a homage to the bulls that have killed men in the bullfighting rings of Spain. The work is painted onto recycled materials, such as cardboard, as to not distract from the concept itself. These paintings are incredibly masculine and ultimately very moving. Tightly packed from floor to ceiling, the volume of work was inspiring and beautifully overwhelming.

Like sister, like self

Karina, my oldest friend, is in town. I've known her since about the age of three. She was the first friend I brought home to play and her house was my house until she left NZ when we were 14. It's funny how life has brought us back together at different times, there is a strange synchronicity to it. Sometimes I think Karina knows me better than I know myself.

These photos were taken at sunrise on the day of her wedding, in Oslo, December 2009. 


Today Joe is leaving Amsterdam for good. We've had some great times together and it just won't be the same here without him. His girlfriend Kate leaves really soon too. It feels a bit like the end of an era. 

Joe is one of the main reasons why Toby and I ended up in Amsterdam- mostly because he just held our hand when we were dealing with the whole Dutch immigration system. Which is insane and difficult and so frustrating. Without him and Kate we might have given up!  

But what will he rant about now, without Dutch service/food/red tape/people/public transport/weather to anger him? Now now, don't fret- it's ok- he's moving to London. What an angry man he'll become!

Saint Martinus Church

The Lourdes grotto in Saint Martinus Church,  Katwijk. Saturday the 17th November 2010.

This morning on the way to work

We had our first frost this week. Today the sun was barely making it over the trees. And soon I will be cycling to work in the dark again.
Right after Christmas- which is swiftly approaching and the only thing that makes all this winteryness bearable, I am off to New Zealand for two months. I would rather be there right now - sometimes you wonder about the choices you make, the places you end up. I am so far away.

Oma's Meatball Soup

Whenever we visited my grandparents in Tauranga, it meant we got to eat Oma's meatball soup. No matter how much Mum tried to emulate it, it was never the same. My version was pretty good but it just doesn't quite have the exact Oma flavour. I think it needed a touch of Maggi seasoning, found in all good Dutch kitchens- just not mine! 

Oma's Meatball Soup
250 gm of beef mince, seasoned with salt and pepper and rolled into little balls
75 gm vermicelli
5 sticks of celery
250 gm mixed green soup vegetables - carrot, leek, onion
fresh parsley
2 litres of beef stock

Bring stock to the boil, add all vegetables. After 5 minutes, add the meatballs and vermicelli. Season. Cook for 5-10 minutes. Eet smakelijk!

Oma and Opa

My Oma and Opa, Alphonsa and Wim Nagels in their garden in Tauranga, New Zealand. 2007.

Two thirty-year olds

Wendy and Toby held their joint 30th birthday party in some dad's underground games room. Big soft squishy old brown couches, weird trophies on mantelpieces, darts boards, cigarette smoke and even a slightly grumpy (but really very sweet) barman who stomped down the stairs to complain about the noise. I felt 15 again!

One last time

One last spin in Bruce. I can't imagine we will brave another trip out this year. Now, in the dark evenings, when the street lamps are spilling gold light over the canals and your breath mists, it somehow feels more like Amsterdam.

Autumn in the Jordaan

Angela came to Amsterdam. We spent a cold grey day exploring the delights of the Jordaan, little shops, brown bars and tasting the most lekkerst appeltaart ever. It was wonderful to just wander with someone who can "see" photos too. Angela is an amazing photographer, and once she gets her website up, I will share it with you!

There is a wild storm forecast for this afternoon, I'm biking home in the dark, the temperature has dropped. It's hard to believe, for an antipodean like myself, that winter is still to come.


In Paris, on a bridge from Ile de la Cité, Toby and I scratched our initials onto a padlock and fastened it alongside all the others. We threw the keys into the Seine. Aimons toujours! Aimons encore! 


Once upon a time I lived in London and through an old school mate, I ended up working in a photographic lab in Chiswick. I'd been travelling alone for six months, a bit lonely and not quite sure what the hell I was doing in London in the middle of winter with no cash.

Through my new job I met a whole gang of characters: Beth, Angela, Toni, Isaac, Jayne, Tony, Andreas, Nicky, Isabelle, Angie, Kiri and Scooter. And they all freakin' loved photography just as much as I did. It was like being back at school but without the teachers. All of London was our playground and we snapped everything that moved.


Angela, Toby and I. Inside the Jim Goldberg exhibition at Foam Fotografiemuseum, Museumnacht.