This is the oldest extant electric railway in the world, having been running since 1883. It runs along Brighton beach for just over a mile, eastwards from the pier — that station is the one seen here, in front of the Royal Albion hotel where we spent this weekend (our usual Brighton haunt, the Pelirocco, having been booked out by a party this weekend).
Taken more because I think the black, cruciform traffic cones are kinda cool, also because I like the way Hebden Bridge’s funeral parlour is right next to the gymnasium. As far as I know there is no connecting door.
My train was slightly late, but this one left just at the right time. I don’t know if this picture is quite what I expected to be when I took it, but it was always going to be today’s photo.
After the party, the journey home. I do this trip quite a lot. Since they finally removed the scaffolding from around Blackfriars station earlier this year, it really does have a bloody good view, up there with Circular Quay station in Sydney — but with slightly cleaner windows.
Well, the ceiling of the terminal building anyway. The plane’s a model, in case you were wondering. Back home after four enjoyable days in Russia.
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’.
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.
Just a random scene passed on the way to somewhere else. Not something I was doing — I don’t own a car. Which means I don’t have to wash it. Or put petrol in it. Or pay tax on it. Et cetera.
I like the mistiness of this shot caused by the high-pressure jet. Also that this guy seems to manage to still look quite cool even in wellington boots.
Blackburn is where I have to change trains when going to see my parents and/or sister. But it’s a surprisingly photogenic place. On a sunny day the light hits it perfectly. Today’s picture is like a proof of that concept — if the light can make an empty plastic bag look this attractive, then we’re talking something special.
I’m a little disappointed with the sharpness of the background but there’s a long zoom on it to get the right depth of field so I guess one can’t have everything. The focus is just a bit further forward than intended. Otherwise I like the sinuous sweep of these tramlines, as they come down past the G-MEX centre and head towards the city.
Being 42 