One reason for going down south was to attend a game at Brighton & Hove’s other football team, Whitehawk FC. Why? Why not? They have an active set of Ultras, anti-racist, anti-sexist, a no bad language policy (exemplified by the chant, “the referee’s a… referee”) and the atmosphere put many much bigger clubs to shame. Right result too — Whitehawk 3, Wealdstone 0. Perhaps I have just found my second team.
Why? Because reasons, as Joe would say. And this was definitely his kind of event.
The Shoulder of Mutton in remains closed, as do about half the pubs in Hebden Bridge town centre. This guy looks mildly distressed by this fact, or possibly he’s decided that it’s really time he found a hobby other than skateboarding (I assume the board on the table next to him is significant).
The Pace Egg play is performed at various locations around Hebden Bridge each Good Friday. St. George defeats all challengers, there is death, rebirth, all that jazz. It dates back hundreds of years — ‘Pace’ comes from the Old English word for Easter. A troupe of actors perform it at Hepstonstall each year, and then this group from Calder High (Joe’s school) tour it round the villages with the help of a non-medieval blue van. I caught this performance in Luddenden in this Good Friday’s pleasant weather.
Waiting out our train connection at the subterranean St. Pancras Thameslink station and I passed the time taking pictures of people on the opposite platform. Voyeuristic maybe but this was the best picture of the day.
We could mock this guy for reliving the glories of his youth, but seeing as just after this I punched the air and shouted ‘Yes! High Score!’ after beating all-comers at Asteroids, I have no leg to stand on. Pictured at the National Media Museum, Bradford, this afternoon’s entertainment.
I have a day’s work to do down south tomorrow, and it was easier (and cheaper) to travel down this afternoon rather than getting up at 6am tomorrow morning. Though as my single-serving companion reflects, it’s still a good opportunity to grab a kip, even if one is trying to do some work on the Mac, while drinking a glass of wine (note: wine not paid for by British taxpayer).
I wasn’t taking a photo of this guy, but just of the scene. He then stopped walking, turned straight into the shot and lit his cigarette. Sometimes it just works out.
As pictured at the Manchester Christmas market, which opened this week. He can consider it free advertising. This makes it 28 days in a row, or a full four weeks, with only pictures of Hebden Bridge and Manchester.
A shame about the signs on the door, which rather spoil the composition. So that’s 21 days in a row of shots only in Hebden Bridge or Manchester, breaking the record for this particular sequence; and seeing as the weather forecast for this weekend is pretty dreadful, thus no Lake District walk, the run will go on for a few more days yet.
Being 42 