Not being one for lounging on beaches, decided to take a day trip off-roading in a good old-fashioned British Land Rover. Which our guide and driver, Michael, insisted on calling a Jeep... Well, the tour was irritatingly called Jeep Safaris I suppose, but still. He knew the difference, but countered that most people don't. We used a company called Portitours and if, as I did, you make sure you get a front seat, is highly recommended.
Good day out, traveling on some very steep and dusty tracks with alarming drop-offs to either side that Michael delighted in driving at high-speed to make the women in the back shriek, all the while keeping up a non-stop commentary on everything from flora to politics. Lunch followed in a small rustic restaurant served by a woman wrapped in a wooly hat and coat. The place looked shut, no lights and was cold, so I don't blame her even though it seemed odd. After the meal, we all decamped outside into the garden to warm up and eat more oranges. All told, there were eight of us on the trip. Then off again to travel along unfortunately dried-up river beds, so no playing in the mud. They really need rain and soon.
I was hoping to find some out-of-the-way villages to perhaps photograph, but unfortunately not. Except for this one old man in a sleepy town dragging a huge tree branch he'd just pruned, there wasn't many people about. So I'm glad I at least managed to grab this from the Land Rover's window. The striking colour of the wall counterpointed by the stoop of the old chap is interesting.
It doesn't look it, but the bottom shot was taken using the fish-eye lens, holding the camera at arms length out of the window while we drove along. You can just see my left hand on my lap. Perhaps I need to blur the landscape for some sense of speed ...