“The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.”
Roosevelt’s phrase was very much on my mind when, at the end of last year, I was in a “Where next?” and “What next” frame of mind.
Our seven years in London have been good ones. We’ve had a lovely home and neighbourhood in Brockley; been married and had two charming kids. And I’ve been proud and privileged to work at The Guardian.
A reporter for the past 12 years – a third of my life – and it is truly engrained in who I am. I’ve been fortunate to have an employer whose world values are not that different from my own. Every day has been different and saying good-bye last week was not easy. I’ll miss the access to those who make decisions which affect people’s lives, and trying to hold them to account. And I’ll miss many of my often-inspiring colleagues.
But I’m also lucky as, by having a Spanish wife, I’ve been aware for some time that there are other worlds out there. Places without seven million neighbours; where’s there’s always time for a glass of Rioja, and you don’t need to drive or take a train to escape the smoke.
And so it’s time for a change. Our move to rural Spain, not far from Logroño, will give me the chance to learn again. There’s the challenge of a new culture, improving my Spanish and working for myself as a photographer.
However, to me, my documentary style photography is not that different from my journalism. It’s telling a story through images rather than words.
Here are a few photos from my last week at the Guardian.