A trip out to the suburbs today: definitely not the former Communist blocks, more like leafy Hampstead or Carshalton (if this were London). Streets named after composers, big gardens and garages, that kind of thing. One thing I like about Berlin is that it’s all quite laid back: it certainly doesn’t have the over-energised manicness of some capital cities. Perhaps this shot captures that.
Berlin is where we’ve come for a few days. This part of it has been much changed in the last 36 years, for up until 1989, the Berlin Wall ran right through here: there is a marker on the road near this point, with the former Checkpoint Charlie (now a magnet for tourists and hustlers alike) just off shot to the right: though this was only a small and relatively insignificant part of the border infrastructure at this point on Friedrichstrasse. Nowadays these displays of photographs and maps are all that remain. The Wall retains such a significant place in the memory of people my age (and I’m not even German) but it only lasted 28 and a bit years (August 1961 – October 1989): Joe will be that age soon enough.
On 23rd March 2026, nothing happened. At least not to me anyway. Down there in town a blue truck parks itself in that gap we perceive in the buildings and offers something to look at. And so I get through another day.
Although not as mild as it has been, today felt like one of those Sundays where it was perfectly permissible to take it easy. And in my local area, there are worse places to do this than down by — or in these guys’ case, on — the canal.
I know my sister Vicki follows this blog, so let me say that it was, as always, nice to see them in Hebden Bridge tonight. This is a picture of her and Pete (the tattoos are the giveaway) and not one of a Thai corn ball, even though that does form the foreground.
For the second time in a week Bradford proves a decent choice for an evening out, even if it was a little wet, and the city can continue to ascend the rankings of Most Depicted Places on the blog, a list on which it now rises to 9th (see the stats). It is one of those northern towns which celebrated its Victorian wealth, here based on wool, by building a magnificent municipal headquarters of the kind no local authority or government would dare to risk now, for fear of being slagged off for misuse of public funds. But why not do it this way? Works for me.
OK, not that late I suppose, but nevertheless this is the latest shot in a given day since 30th September — which, as this one is, was taken in Bradford. Clearly that city has become my go-to spot for evenings out. I did do more interesting things today than hang around this empty car park for some industrial unit or other, by the way. But as a subject for the camera it worked OK. The manhole cover to the bottom right does annoy me a bit, but I couldn’t crop it without also losing the important red.
Shops have always advertised themselves. I mean, they have to, don’t they? All advertising is text, and looking at how texts change over time is as good a way as any of understanding social change. This juxtaposition caught my eye: the shapes, the textures and the words themselves.
Yes, it was a comfortably late start to the day but then again I am still teaching until 6pm on Tuesdays. Much more preferable to go in later, particularly as we are, finally, having some pleasant weather.
Our Glorious Leaders often tell us how important it is that we are ‘entrepreneurial’, demanding we assimilate a system of meaning in which only if it is for sale, does it have value. This guy has clearly taken this on board: if I am not mistaken that is a wheelie bin that has been converted into his place of business. It’s not as comprehensive as what might found in the Arndale itself but perhaps he is working on it.
Being 42 