Despite spending the day in the centre of London my horizons were extremely limited as I was confined to bed all day feeling ill. I basically paid my hotel £154 to rent a sick room for the day. And it was a nice sunny day, too. Poking my camera out of the window now and again to fulfil my obligations, this was the best shot I managed. Consider it an abstract?
This is Sinclair’s Oyster Bar — oldest pub in Manchester, and also one of the most no-nonsense. Which is not to say it’s rough, because it’s not. But you get the drinks you’re given and you pay cash, and don’t expect plates of radicchio on the side. Best pub for Victoria station anyway — I know not only exactly how long it takes to walk from here, but how long it takes to specific platforms.
One of those days on which I got soaked in foul winter rain on the walk to campus from the station, and dreaded doing it again on the way back — but fortunately, the sun came out. Here, for once I don’t mind the lamppost in the shot.
I really hope there won’t be too many Manchester pictures over the next few months — at least that will be an indication that my sabbatical will be something meaningful. But it doesn’t start yet: I will be there most of next week before I can escape for a while.
Not an exciting shot, but then again this wasn’t an exciting day, nor is it an exciting period: I can see all the photos from a 15-day run (ending on 24th January) being from Hebden Bridge or Manchester. Never mind, I have marking to do. Here, I at least like the pipes, the red against the grey.
The transformation of Manchester into a city of tower blocks continues apace. Over the last few years, how many shots from here have featured some giant construction project, completed or (mostly) otherwise? The end of Canal Street, at the New Union hotel, is now literally overshadowed by this concrete lattice, which just keeps going up, and up, and up.
The last morning of November, and I pull duty again on the 6:32 service to Manchester. The castle battlements at the bottom of Keighley Road look suitably dramatic in the moonlight (and streetlight).
On the outside, not one of the campus’s more attractive buildings, but it was looking OK this afternoon, and inside it’s actually quite pleasant, with lots of dark wood panelling etc. Mind you I still get lost in this building sometimes as it has a very confusing room layout, despite (or perhaps because of) hosting the schools of Planning and Architecture.
This building was built in 1899 as a Baptist chapel. Worship (and/or baptisms) haven’t taken place here since the 1970s, but it is now a conference centre and youth hostel. As it is only a few minutes’ walk from my house it was nice to work here today rather than in Manchester, but it does lie halfway up a fekkin’ steep hill, which I had to climb three times in the morning. Maybe that’s why the Baptists stopped worshipping here after a while, and moved to the much more conveniently sited Hope Baptist Chapel down in town…
A Saturday night out in Leeds. However, there are no photos of that, thanks to fascist doormen who seemed to be worried that my Mario Testino-style gear (cost of camera, £250) would somehow be a threat to image rights the world over. So here, instead, is the architectual centrepiece of the place where, many years ago — 25 this year, in fact (good grief) — I first came as a student. It’s still a cool building. And all in all a nicer campus than the one I presently work on (sorry, Manchester, but it’s true).
This is a good bit of wall. And well lit. It looks like a collage. There must be something philosophical to be said about walls, how a good one is not just a monotonous single surface but an accumulation of bits and pieces over time. I wonder how many walls I have featured on the blog — here’s another good one for example. Not to mention the Berlin Wall….
Being 42 