**Some of these images will expand if you click on them!

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**The images are not in chronological order or any kind of order whatsoever! They are just meant for me to view and enjoy. If I was teaching I could note that 90% of them follow compositional rules.

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 I am recording the following for my own historical account. I went to India by myself, while later my wife went with her Yoga club. It was a Photographer's paradise. Unfortunately while at the TAJ (the first images on this page), I climbed a wall to get the perfect perspective and having just had my knee replacement, fell off! I broke my best Camera and for the remainder of my adventure, I had to shoot with my secondary. This meant my artistry had to rule over the image quality. Some said I was crazy to go to India, but I say I would have been crazy not to experience this amazing country. I was totally consumed. I watched a number of Youtube videos to prepare myself! That was a waste of time! They were nonsense and the true India is only shown by experiencing it yourself. It was an absolute delight and an adventure that will remain strong in my memory. Sure I had my dangerous moments; one being , due to a Terrorist's attack in Sri Lanka, my plane was cancelled and I was stranded outside the Airport (because of security) without a phone and no one to understand me but the armed guards. But I figured it out and just by chance had to hop from one side of the country to the other and back again with the unexpected stop over to Mumbai (Bombay) where my Father was born. Mumbai seen by air was spectacular - uniquely shaped mountains the like I have never seen. It was certainly emotional for me. A secondary goal of my trip was to  discover the History of my parents in India. My Mother was stationed in Agra during the War. Here, on Sundays, she used to picnic on the lawn of the TAJ and here, I am thinking, she met my Father (It  however, may also have been Calcutta where they were also stationed). He, like her, was in the British Airforce (she was a switchboard operator in communications and he first, a pilot, then later a decoder). After leaving Mumbai I arrived in Chennai where my Father grew up in an orphanage. I visited the school, which still operates, and asked to go inside. At first they refused, but when it was mentioned that my Father attended, I was allowed to roam the grounds. My Father never reveled his past, so here in Chennai I discovered for the very first time that he was a key player in the designing of India's first Commercial Airport in Delhi. In Chennai, I visited Fort George. Here they keep a book on all enlisted men prior too and during the War. But people had ripped out pages and now it was kept under glass. I was certain my Father's name would have been recorded there! However I know it is in the London  Archives. Also in the London Archives, we discovered that my Mother's Father married my Grandmother in India then left her there after the War (WW1) to returned to his legal wife and children in London. This was apparently quite common with British Soldiers in India, which resulted in a large population of Anglo Indians residing in India and the rest of the World. My Grandmother was an English Army Nurse from Kent, England (She remained in India after the War and eventually moved to Canada). Turns out I have a number of relatives named Broker (My Grand Father) in England who have no idea I exist. I also learnt that my parent's first House, after their marriage, still stands. Unfortunately, I was unable to see it. I learnt my Father's mother's maiden name was Johnson and her side of the family were Irish. My Father's Mother died when he was young and because she had married a local (Indian) my Father was rejected by the Irish side of the family.  They could have lovingly adopted him, but shunned him (they were very fair, blond and blue eyed and he was dark skinned).  Orphaned, he was, first given to his Uncle Robert who was a wealthy, kind and loving individual that was able to give my Father a good life. But sadly he too died soon after. Uncle Robert's wife then took the wealth and  placed my Father in an orphanage. She, like the rest of his Irish relatives, returned to Ireland after their military term in India was over. My Father named my youngest brother Robert in respect for his Uncle Robert.  Prior to his passing, Dad tried to retrieve the heritage he was entitled to from the  O'Malley name in Ireland (again, his mother was a Johnson, but her mother was Clementine O'Malley). He had no success! I must mention, this last part was reveled to me by my Mother at her passing and not on my trip.  Very little was known of Dad's Father, who was most likely Portuguese and Indian. Difficult to know about the Portuguese line since many of Indian heritage took on Portuguese names. Dad's Father, like many soldiers in the British Army died from alcoholic poisoning. There is a greater chance of my family having a Portuguese background however, since my Great, Great Grandmother also had a Portuguese name and she was Maria Cilva.  My Mother's Mother married  another man named Player (A British Railway employee working in India) right after Broker returned to England. My Mum was led to believe Player was her Father. When the truth was revealed it was Broker, she decreased her age by one year to make it appear she too was a Player like the rest of her siblings (else she would be shamed).  Player, an English man, worked to build the railway in India. He died of Alcoholic poisoning and my Grandmother had her last child with another man named Wotton (Wotton also passed away from alcoholic poisoning).  We believe my mother hid the truth about her age so long that eventually she believed the deception herself.  After she passed away, we discovered her true age from the London Birth Records. After the War, my parents were considerable wealthy and saw no point in returning to England. However, that was a mistake and after partition got trapped in Pakistan. My Family had to be rescued by the English (and Americans) and we found our way to England in 1957. We lost our wealth as a consequence and had to start over again. So much was learnt; too much to be covered any further on this page. I hope one day to be able to return to India and stay a while -  to just hang out on the streets, watercolor painting the people and the buildings. When I was studying to be an Architect I had two goals: visit the TAJ and walk on the Great Wall of China. The Taj, one of the Seven Wonders, is the most beautiful building on this planet. Unfortunately I made it to Beijing, but never walked the Great Wall only seeing it from the air. Next time I try India, the Wall will be a stop over for sure!