I think I usually get on pretty well with Esther but we often tease each other and on this occasion it went too far. I said something that was too strong, she kicked me and then she was told off. Her family and mine were spending a weekend together and were on a country walk in the Thames Valley a few miles outside Oxford. Esther, feeling that she had been unfairly blamed, stormed off and started walking back across the fields to the village where we had parked the cars. After a while I ran after her, catching up with her on the far side of the field. I tried hard to apologize and persuade her to drop it and come back, she nearly did I think, but then she changed her mind and continued towards the cars. Disappointed, I turned back to rejoin the others who had paused by the riverbank to see what the outcome would be

We kissed and held each other for a while. The others had gone on ahead and we had lingered to watch the mist float across the fields where we had been walking and to have a little time on our own. The last field we had crossed had been muddy and our shoes were clogged and comically heavy. There were some low, grassy mounds between us and the village where we had parked the cars. It was very silent and the low mist made the scene reminiscent of a horror movie. We heard one of our friends calling us to hurry up, so we turned to follow. It had become dark while we were kissing and now it was hard to find the path but once past the mounds we could see the lights of the village and soon found our friends who were trying to clean the mud from their shoes in the long wet grass near the cars

We had already done most of our Christmas shopping in London before flying to Geneva but my wife and I drove her car into town to pick up a few last things. The shops were crowded and we were over-heated in our heavy coats, but we found what we needed for the evening meal and retrieved Christine's car from the car-park under the lake. We drove the five kilometers back to the southern part of town where her family home lies. Close to the house you pass through an industrial zone and then the buildings thin out for a while. You can see across the fields and beyond to France and the Jura mountains. We still had to prepare the tree and do a lot of wrapping but I asked my wife to stop the car so that I could get out and look at the view. It was cold and the light was fading so after a short while I got back into the passenger seat and we continued on back to the house

It was late summer in 1991. I had recently broken up with my partner and my father had fallen ill. Having bought a grey Citroen CX saloon, I set off across Europe on my own. I had intended to stop off at places of interest, but mostly I just drove. At first I would stop the car and take photographs but I found deciding when to stop stressful, so eventually I just photographed whilst driving

I have worked on a few projects with the same Dutch curator. I had made a proposal to place around thirty road signs, depicting forest animals, along a stretch of road in North Holland. We met to discuss a separate project in Appledoorn but had just enough time to drive two hours in his car to look at this stretch of road. In the end the local council decided that there was a danger of confusing the drivers using the road and the project was dropped. On the way back to Amsterdam the curator told me of his love of gliding. He described how he would stay in the air for hours riding the warm thermals, sometimes flying wing to wing with birds