Kieran Turner's photos with the keyword: café

That'll be the last time HE uses the emergency teleporter!

( Here .)

( Pamela .)

I think it's spotted him .

IrfanView's "enhance colours" tools now work on selected areas, and I've done something very unlike-me, in using it to pick out the juxtaposition here in the National Portrait Gallery's café. The photo, otherwise, was too bland to feel the way I'd wanted it to.

At Ki:lau. I love this art because it's not paint — it's gaffer tape!

Jim Browning is an "adventurer", and a bit of a hero. Seen here with Suzi in Prishtinë, Kosova, in the midst of an unlikely and unplanned expedition to rescue truck from Albania. Jim hadn't been to Albania before, but nevertheless after we'd finished the aid delivery we were doing in Kosova, he agreed to take me across the mountains. My truck had been languishing there since dropping his propshaft just ouside Rubik. Six months on, and apart from the rats' nest in the heater he was basically okay. Made it as far as Bari in Italy before the improperly repaired prop fell off again, but we got him home and he did four convoys to Chernobyl after that :) Tales on www.aidconvoy.net Not sure which camera produced this, either the Pentax ME-Super or an ancient Nikon. Either would have had a 50mm lens and Kodak Tri-X or Plus-X.

Like everyone we met in Central Asia, with the exception of some of the police, the family at this petrol station were lovely. After the older children had fuelled us up, we came into the café where the host (see the next photo) took great pains – which seemed standard, not just for us – to make the tables pretty and prepare an excellent (no doubt) shashlik (kebab) along with some real coffee. Then one of his wives (!) arrived and one of the younger children. They too were ever so friendly and happy. And they wanted to remember us by means of messages on their shiny display fridge!

Like everyone we met in Central Asia, with the exception of some of the police, the family at this petrol station were lovely. After the older children had fuelled us up, we came into the café where the host (see the next photo) took great pains – which seemed standard, not just for us – to make the tables pretty and prepare an excellent (no doubt) shashlik (kebab) along with some real coffee. Then one of his wives (!) arrived and one of the younger children. They too were ever so friendly and happy. And they wanted to remember us by means of messages on their shiny display fridge!