Ah, the airport bus, a quintessentially 21st century mode of transport: in that it’s a rather pointless extra waste of energy because, let’s face it, we could all just walk to the terminal building. Gardemoen airport, Oslo, makes its second appearance on the blog, but this was not my final destination: I had another couple of hours’ journey north after this. More on that tomorrow.
Once again, Leeds becomes the place to change trains when on the way to somewhere else for an evening out: but once again it was quite fertile territory for photography today, bathed in golden late afternoon light. I had a couple to choose from today but in the end went with this one due to the randomly bendy child. Like a stray piece of wind just tried to whisk him away.
This extremely battered old skip wagon was parked outside my house all day, presumably being used by the builders working two doors along, but if their scaffolding is as knackered as their wagon, I wouldn’t trust it. Still, it was something to photograph in an otherwise dull day: I like the different textures, lines, it’s like a collage almost.
Sunny but chilly day in Manchester, trains being obedient. Got out of the house at least, even if it wasn’t a very profound change of scene. However, some very good travel news received today — looks like in two months’ time I will be in Japan for the first time in my life, a long-cherished dream destination.
Sometimes the light is right as I am walking to the office in the morning. Sometimes, like today, it’s better in the evening. So it goes. Why a ‘ghost’ bus? Well, there are no passengers on it; and the route indicator says something weird, like ‘Logistics’ which definitely isn’t a district of Manchester.
Due to the 24-hour industrial action on the Tube, the bus stops on Euston Road this morning were like scenes from Dante’s Inferno. The bus advert just adds tragicomedy.
When the 07:42 cattle truck to Manchester turns up half an hour late, like it did this morning, you can be damn sure there’ll be a few people wanting to get on it. Why was I not among them? Because there was another three carriages along three minutes later, with blissful peace on board. Take this picture as an illustration of how humans typically fail to delay gratification.
Did I do punting on the Cam back in January, when I first came to Cambridge? Well, bugger it. I’m depicting it again. There are reasons.
Peterborough becomes the latest station to feature, I don’t know how many different railway stations there have been on here by now but 20 or more seems a reasonable estimate. I spend enough time on trains for this to be an inevitability, but that’s OK, the mixture of people passing through and the general sense of waiting (here for the 18:18 service to Cambridge) makes them interesting to me.
The weather has switched from decency to foulness pretty quickly. Having once more gone into Manchester, this time with Joe to sort him and me out a new phone each, our train journey home was terminated at Todmorden due to flooding on the line somewhere between Hebden Bridge and Sowerby Bridge, so we were on the bus for the last leg of the journey. Dull this picture is, but it epitomises how it’s all suddenly got dark, cold and damp. Welcome to November for real….
Being 42 