“I just want to run. Chase a small animal. Maybe drop a turd somewhere! HELP ME!!”
The dog pram: another step backwards for canines. Millions of years of independent evolution, then they made the mistake of hooking up with humanity.
I am not saying that I think James Clavell’s Shōgun is the greatest piece of literature ever written, but I will happily, and, I believe, consistently claim that it is my favourite novel. It’s a rollicking good story and despite 1,243 pages there’s not a dull moment in it. It singlehandedly turned me into a Japanophile and I’ve read it at least ten times down the years. However, as you can see, I think it’s time I picked up a new copy. If anyone’s got a first edition…. let me know and suggest a price.
Prior to this evening, this blog had featured two solar eclipses: one annular, witnessed in Laura, Queensland, in May 2013, and the total one seen from Ullin, Illinois, in August 2017. Both of those I had travelled specifically to see. This partial eclipse, however, came to me (and the rest of the UK) rather than the other way around. I did get a photo of it through the eclipse glasses but not a particularly sharp one, so let’s document it this way.
This was, more or less, the peak — I was in Leeds, and it peaked there at about 91% totality — and while it was definitely a noticeable dimming of the light there is still plenty of sunshine coming through and the moon is not at all visible without the eclipse glasses. Going on what the media, particularly social media, was touting to those who had never seen such an event before (and the UK’s last really significant one was in 1999), many people seemed to assume things would be getting pitch black. So, welcome to the difference between hype and reality. Eclipses are still pretty cool though: as I say on one of the other two pages, the fact that the apparent sizes of the Moon and Sun are so nearly the same is a massive cosmic coincidence: we may be one of the few planets in the galaxy that can possibly experience such an event.
Time to go home, and from London, journeys home invariably start at King’s Cross. Platform 5 for us today, though still with half an hour to go from this point in time before the 9:40 departure to Bradford Forster Square, changing at Leeds.
Our journey home from Bristol is being done via London, as we had cause to visit the capital for the David Bowie archive and exhibition which has recently set up home in the V & A’s ‘East Storehouse’, built on the former Olympic Park site. And here it is. It is like some giant retail warehouse, a huge Ikea or B & Q, only for art, not flatpack furniture or tins of paint. And, in fact, B & Q might well be more clearly organised. Obviously there will be some logic behind it (I guess the people running the V & A do know what they are doing after a century or more of professional work in this area) but it’s certainly not obvious to the casual visitor. All the various stairways and walkways just add to the impression of this being some giant labyrinth, a massive Escher print.
“The future belongs to those who prepare for it today”, says the text on this latest bit of street art. Well, I’m saving for retirement — or trying to. Will that do, do you think? I guess I’ll find out at some point, for sure.
Wells, in Somerset, advertises itself as “England’s Smallest City” thanks to the presence of this big lump of medieval architecture, which, other than a lot of shops devoted to servicing the thousands of tourists that were there today, seems to be all it has — though that doesn’t mean it was an unpleasant place. But when it comes to finding a picture to epitomise the day then the cathedral has to be it, really. With a bit of a football reference thrown in.
Maybe not perfect, but definitely a potential case of right clothes, right light, right timing. The River Grille can get its free advertising despite its wholly unnecessary extra E.
In Bristol’s Arnolfini art gallery currently resides an exhibition by Jonathan Baldock, called Held, which, according to the Guardian anyway, is “a tense world of folkloric psychedelia and pagan aesthetics that is weird, threatening and utterly compelling”. Well, OK, maybe I didn’t quite get it myself but Clare was not the only visitor who took the chance to get up close and personal with the exhibition’s centrepiece, entitled Bear Hug and which one was specifically allowed to engage with in this way — as long as shoes were removed. Apparently it has a heartbeat, so is a multi-sensory huggy experience.
Up until Tuesday afternoon Bristol was the largest city in the UK that I had never previously visited, but it can now pass on that honour to Coventry. A first full day here revealed many things of interest but to illustrate them I pick what is almost certainly the city’s most depicted feature. Why not, though? I am partial to a good bridge and in the Clifton Suspension Bridge, the place certainly has one of those: this is an extremely handsome and impressive construction, even now. The road deck is nearly 250 feet above the water below — how does one even start going about such an enterprise? OK, build the towers first, but then what? But that is why I am not or never will be Isambard Kingdom Brunel, who designed it — though did not live to see it completed.
Being 42 