Second, and last, day here at the Högeskolan i Borås, and a very nice lunch at this Indian restaurant with three colleagues, including Ameera, the centrepiece of this picture. It’s been a nice stay here in Sweden, but too short: I hope to be back one day however.
Well, here I am in another new country for me – Sweden. I won’t see much of it, being here for under 48 hours all told, and just in this one small city, Borås, which is in the south of the country, not far from Gothenburg. Its claims to fame, so I can tell or have been told, are that — it is the home of the country’s most prestigious Library and Information Science School (this is why I’m here); is the textile capital of Sweden; it is the home of IF Elfsborg, football champions of Sweden in 2012; and it has a lot of sculpture, including this rather tasteful piece of work not far from the bus station, known, apparently, as ‘Bodhi’ (meditator). As of yet however, I have failed to find any particularly good beer here. Which is also worth noting.
Perhaps I have been overdoing the travelling this year and all in all feel inclined to downshift a notch or two, but I still have three trips abroad to make in the rest of 2013, including this one. Here we sit — about 20 of us — on our terribly small and cute little plane waiting for take-off, watching these flunkies do whatever it is they do to confirm we are ready to fly. The shot was taken from out of the window visible in the reflection on the engine, above the ‘I’ between the ‘R’ and the ‘T’.
The bridge extends over the Rochdale Canal, and links Hebden Bridge town centre (to the right) with Calder Holmes Park. Today was another glorious day, how much longer can this summer last?
And there it is coming in, right on time — behind the head of the woman stood second left. A glorious day today, a perfect late summer’s day, I nearly posted something about this year’s Conservative Party Conference in Manchester, but I decided I wasn’t that angry.
I can’t be the first parent to reach the point in their life at which they suddenly realise their child will be at secondary school next year. Blimey.
Because of this we were invited to an open evening at one of the local high schools tonight. Bearing all this in mind the obvious symbolism of this shot is unfair. But I like the counterposition of the words with that bruised sky above, one of the more dramatic evenings of recent weeks.
John Owens made his fortune in the early 1800s, it seems in two ways — first through cotton trading, and secondly by “keeping no company whatsoever” and spending every evening in, reading books (according to contemporary accounts). On his death, with no children — unsurprising, with those habits — he left a substantial sum of money towards the foundation of Owens College, now a part of the University of Manchester, and also made it a condition of his will that no student nor member of the faculty in that institution would ever have to “pass a religious test” to achieve their status. He might not have been much of a party animal, but at least he had a sensible lack of zealotry along with it.
These girders have been erected over the last two weeks by the unexpectedly large object. They are the skeleton of a new extension being built below our house by the owners of the Nutclough Mill, a building you have seen several times before but which will be irrevocably changed by this project. Is this a good thing? Ask us when it’s finished.
…so not everyone is yet completely sure where they should be going for their 10:00 lecture. The girl with the umbrella was intently studying the campus map this morning.
In total contrast to most of the week which preceded it, today was a glorious day. Who knows, perhaps the last burst of genuine summer this year. The light made even this neglected, graffiti-tagged fire escape at the back of the gym look sort of romantic.
