I wouldn’t know what “the third kind” stands for as I never saw the movie but by any means this was a close encounter with this year’s Tour de France. “I vaguely remember lots of shouting and the loud noise of bicycles crashing into the asphalt right as they passed” was the sentence I prepared for this blog upon realizing just how close it was going to be, but I haven’t had to use it. It would have brought me instant world fame as a photographer and I figure that kind of makes it yet another missed opportunity.

If you don’t know the Alsace region (see our recent sentimental journey): here are some shameless but well-deserved plugs. If you like the image above, love hiking and need some peace and quiet, you can stay at Les Alisiers, a charming family-run hotel tucked against a hillside, and watch deer and fox emerge from the forest while having dinner. In the daytime, either hike around the rural countryside or buy some of the best Alsatian wines at our old favorite Jean Sipp in historic Ribeauvillé or at our new discovery Albert Klee in nearby Katzenthal. And that ends this commercial break.

We started our stay in France some five years ago tucked away in a small and messy hotel in Strasbourg where we had to put the bed up against the wall each day to be able to walk around the four square meters we had to our disposal. Nonetheless, we have fond memories of both the city and the Alsace region and so we went back on a four day sentimental journey, this time enjoyed some good hotels, had wonderful meals, strolled through the countryside, visited our favorite wine growers and drove back to Paris yesterday rested, happy and with 120 bottles of wine in the trunk of our car to make sure the happiness will stay with us for some time to come.

(…) Fever / in the morning / fever all through the night (…)

Not just any fever, but hay-fever and not only in the morning and all through the night, but 24/7. However much I love flowers (ask my wife, she gets them… uhm… once a year?) I really hate it that this spring, for the first time, I have a serious bout of hay-fever. The strange thing is I only seem to have it in France, so maybe this is nature’s way of telling me it is time to move on. And so we’ll do, this summer, to Brussels.

A bit over 11 years ago my father and best friend, aged 54, died of cancer. Had he been diagnosed with it today, he would have stood a much better chance of survival as there has been a tremendous advance in the medical and biotechnological fields. Advance, made possible by donations of people like you and me. Now you can join me and make a difference for everyone fighting against cancer today and tomorrow.

Here’s the deal. I’m sponsoring a cycling team called “Les Cyclorameurs” (to see four of them “in action” click here). They are joining the yearly Alpe d’HuZes challenge: cycling up the legendary Alpe d’Huez mountain in France at least six times. It’s a sponsored event and last year alone it generated more than 3 million euro. This amount flows directly and fully into a special fund for research into living with cancer by KWF Kankerbestrijding, the biggest and one of the oldest non-profit organisations in this field in the Netherlands.

“Les Cyclorameurs” are highly ambitious: their goal is to rake in at least 30.000 euro for this fund and while they’ve got a headstart, they’re not quite there yet. And that’s where you come in.

I’ve set aside 50 limited edition prints for “Les Cyclorameurs”. You can buy one of them for € 250 (excl. cost of shipment), half of which will serve directly as sponsoring for their herculean effort. The other half is needed to offset costs of printing and paper. Prints are 40 x 60 cm, printed on exclusive glossy Harman baryte paper (dim. 43.2 x 63.5 cm) and they will be numbered and signed individually.

There are 5 different prints available (1, 2, 3, 4 & 5), 10 of each, which will be sold on a first come first served basis. Should you like to order you can simply leave a comment on this page or contact me through the contact page. Clearly state the image you would like to buy and I will contact you as soon as possible. Costs of shipment are: free in Paris, € 10 for continental Europe, other countries on request. You will receive your print 4 weeks after ordering; promotion ends June 4, 2009.

If you would like to read more about this special promotion, you can download a brochure including all five photos by clicking here (in Dutch; English on request). If you’d like to sponsor “Les Cyclorameurs” directly, you can also contact me through the contact page and I’ll send you full details on how to do this.

I hope you’ll join me in the fight against cancer: it will not bring back my father, but it will help millions of others instead… maybe even yourself. Thank you for participating!

Lately I’m charmed more and more by old-fashioned black and white photography. I don’t know what it is. Nostalgia? Influenced by too many books by Ansel Adams or Cartier-Bresson? The fact that real life never is black and white but always a subtle shade of grey? Who knows. All I know is this image looks much better now than during its original colorful life (shot in January on my Alice in Winterland trip).

Alice in winterland: that’s how I felt when driving around the snowy countryside north of Paris today. That and cold: -11°C. Now I’ve finally warmed up and instead of feeling cold I feel bruised as my behind is showing all kinds of purple: besides cold it was extremely slippery, I found out the hard way. It seems I’m better suited for warmer climates.

It’s been kept secret for quite a while, but last weekend I discovered that the barcode system actually originated in the forest of Compiègne; the accompanying image serves as proof. By the way and totally unconnected to the origin of barcodes, proof that I was published in Dutch daily Trouw can be found by clicking here.

Let’s continue with surreal. This image was taken a few steps from the chapel of the previous entry. The path used to be a road lined with houses where 422 people lived; all that remains nowadays are a few stones and signs saying “school” or “farm” near overgrown bomb craters. Expect more in just under two weeks in the regional Dutch newspapers.

I’ll introduce two fresh ones on our theme: fallen soldiers and falling grenades. This lovely spot, tucked away in the gently rolling hills north of Verdun, is where one of the most destructive battles of WW-I was fought. 300 long days and 300 dark nights in 1916 resulted in almost 300.000 dead and more than 1 million wounded. This chapel to commemorate them stands on the grounds where the village of Fleury used to be. Until 1916. Surreal.