As made by this board outside Walthamstow Central station this morning. And thanks to ‘good service’ on the tube, Grand Central trains and….. er, OK, Northern (just about) — it was blessed enough. Blessed with very fine weather, at least.
The heading of this post is somewhat superfluous bearing in mind this bridge. In April 2014 I took this picture from more or less the same spot, one of the touristic epicentres of London, and so not at all what it used to be in my youth etc. etc. when Camden was the place to come for your cheap, punk clothing.
Wembley FC do not play at Wembley Stadium — though you can see that from their Vale Farm ground about a mile away. Nevertheless, they give good art work, even if the subject matter, going on the dates, is a tragic one.
As seen from the Walthamstow Travelodge, looking south. Yes, I’m in London again. I like London. There are things to do here.
I don’t know whether the 19th century did outdoor seating and umbrellas in quite the same way as the Stubbings Wharf pub does in 2023, but otherwise this picture could well have been taken 150 years ago: man (with beard) waiting for nearby lock to fill, and trying to stop the boat floating away while he does so. It’s a slow way of life on the water, which I guess is why plenty of people like to live it.
Campus is not exactly an over-used resource at this time of year but there were some signs of life today. And at least the sun put in an appearance, although whatever these guys were planning they still felt they needed additional illumination, and it’s the apparently floating light that offers this shot enough appeal to make it today’s choice.
How unexpected, I thought, as I saw this rose poking up, alone, from the undergrowth at the edge of the Memorial Garden. Then I saw it was not a rose. Plastic bag? A couple of bright red serviettes from one of the local eateries? To be honest I didn’t check. I took a photograph of it though.
The city of Chester has one of two remaining complete sets of city walls in the UK (the other is Derry). Sitting out and trying to have a quiet lunchtime beer under the famous Eastgate clock was not a plan I entertained for more than a few minutes, but at least I got a photo — which turned out much better in black and white. The first portrait orientation for a long while, too: almost all of the shots on here are now landscape, but this is an exception.
Gosh, this year of my life starts with two consecutive nights out. But then again it is a holiday weekend. We are the last ones out behind the Railway, in fact. This picture appeals purely because of the lights.
My 54th birthday. The title of this blog is now 12 years out of date, but never mind. A chance to celebrate this anniversary at the Piece Hall, Halifax, where The Charlatans were doing their own latest ‘Not Quite Dead Yet Tour’ (Tim Burgess is 56: we’ve both still got a couple of decades on Roger Daltrey, admittedly).
But they’ve been on here before, so let’s feature instead the Unexpectedly Decent Support Act, Johnny Marr — who dutifully did deign to perform the one and only Smiths song I really do give a toss about. Altogether now: “There’s a club if you’d like to go…. you might meet somebody who really loves you. So you go and you stand on your own, and you leave on your own, and you go home, and you cry and you want to die.” Ah: How Soon Is Now? It does take me back.
Being 42 