January:
I started the year in Spain. I had been in Granada since before Christmas and had already decided it was my favourite place in the country – a hard act to follow.
On the 9th of January I moved to Mairena del Aljarafe, a township near Seville. A few days later I was out looking for a late bar and found a small one on a quiet street. It was obvious that a party was going on, but it was only after I had ordered my drink from the female staff that I realised that all the other customers were women. I was the only man in the room. I never found out the reason. Whether it was a special occasion or the norm, but I didn’t take any photos – it didn’t seem appropriate.
For more on my time in Granada and Seville – my post on my stays there is here.
February:
I moved onto Cádiz and had a strange accident where I managed to fall over my own suitcase whilst getting off the bus from the station. Once inside my digs – and after a prolonged discussion with my host, Jesús – I checked and discovered that the cut to my leg was much deeper than I first thought. I took myself to the nearest pharmacy, where the assistant not only suggested antiseptic and dressings, but cleaned up the cut and applied the first bandage. Minor trauma, then care.
March:
I spent most of the month in the outskirts of Madrid, where it rained every day I was there. I was, perhaps, too far from the centre so travelling became a chore. I really wanted to go to the Prado, but at the beginning of the stay I never had enough motivation to make it happen. In my last week I caught an inevitable cold and so never went. Hence NO photos of me at the Prado and a timely reminder that if I want to make something happen, to do it early on in my stay!
April:
I then travelled back to Istanbul, where I had been before the three months in Spain. After a few weeks I moved on to Ankara. In both cities I was aware of – and occasionally found myself near – political demonstrations, (not by choice!) I saw lots of instances where I could have taken interesting photos of both sides, police and protestors – but didn’t because … Well for so many reasons. Not my business, fear of being arrested, wanting to go back one day – even if just for a few days transfer.
I’m a traveller, not a photo-journalist, no matter how tempting some of the scenes may have been.
May:
I left Turkey, via the Doğu express, Kars and Hopa and on into Georgia. The photo I most wish I’d taken occurred early in my stay at the coastal town of Batumi. While visiting the Botanical Gardens which had a zipline running along the edge of the site and out over the coast, I spotted a woman in full burka and hijab, flying past me and from the sounds she was making having the time of her life. I know other family members will have the video, but she was far too fast for me to pick up my phone. I have the picture firmly in my memory.
There is more information about my trips on the Dogu Express (here), Kars (here) and Hopa (here.) A post on Batumi in Georgia is in the pipeline.
June:
I was hospitalised at the end of my stay in Georgia, so Armenia – where I was in June – was a muted affair, but I did make a late trip to the Botanical Gardens in Yerevan. After a one-hour bus journey I arrived just in time for a thunderstorm, so was unable to take any photos because of the rain. A wasted afternoon? Maybe – but I can’t photograph the sound of thunder or the smell of petrichor.
I did go back a few weeks later and there will be a blog post about my visit there in the near future.
July:
My first month in the UK was spent in Sheffield, England, where I lived for nearly 30 years and still have many friendships. The photos I didn’t take are of these friends.
I don’t know why not. It never seems to cross my mind until after I leave. Perhaps it’s because no-one offers to take photos of me? Is it a man thing? I know I need to prioritise this on future visits or I may come to regret it.
August:
Part of the month was spent in Belfast, Northern Ireland. I was staying in a middle-class area of East Belfast but had to travel (by bus) through some council estates and found the sheer number of British flags disturbing and overwhelming.
I didn’t feel comfortable with them and chose not to record what I was seeing. Strangely, similar displays started appearing in the rest of the UK, not long after my visit, causing division and controversy.
September:
The latter part of September (and most of October) was taken up by my cat-sit in Budapest. A before–and-after shot I could have taken would have been of a small mystery.
In the first week of my stay I put the bin out on the street the night before and the next day, not only had it not been emptied (I later found out because of a strike) but it had been tipped over and the contents scattered all over the road.
I tidied up as much as possible but I had an appointment in the centre so could only do so much. When I returned a few hours later, the place was like a new pin. I never found out who my good Samaritan was.
October:
On the very last day of the month I landed in Ao Nang, Thailand.
I rarely post photos of the inside of the Airbnbs I stay in – especially if they are not up to scratch, and this was one of those times. Problems included a basic kitchen without a sink, a window that wouldn’t close meaning I felt insecure. I can usually make any situation work, but this one tested me and meant my first taste of Thailand was a sour one.
The stay was cheap, and sometimes you get what you pay for. That was reason enough to try and make it work. So I stayed, adapted and chose not to record it.
November:
This was the most difficult month of the year, marked by my illness and the extreme flooding in the city of Hat Yai, Thailand. I wasn’t up and about enough to record the actual flooding, but I did see some of the aftermath – people’s belongings thrown out on the streets because of water damage. Seeing children’s clothes and toys in the gutter hit me hard. It wasn’t something I felt comfortable sharing.
December:
At the time of writing this, I am in Penang, Malaysia. The photo I wish I had taken here was of the people who picked my pocket on the bus in the first few weeks of my stay.
Of course I had no idea that it was happening although looking back it was the classic distract, pocket and vanish.
Sad that it happened here, as otherwise I have found the people to be friendly, tolerant of those from different cultures and religions.
The buses though …
So there you have it, twelve photos I didn’t take, for reasons ranging from privacy concerns to simply not turning up.
The words still invoke memories of moments that might otherwise have been lost and serve as a reminder of how much 2025 has taught me.
