Back home again, my town strangely empty this afternoon. Perhaps everyone was hunkering down for the promised ‘winter apocalypse’ that is, at least according to the media, about to devour the entire Northern Hemisphere in a kind of Game of Thrones scenario. Well, it’s a little chilly that’s true, but I’m sure we’ll live.
Our tour of the south-east corner of England continues. Once again I find myself in Brighton, on a beautiful but very cold day. A day well spent all round.
So I was just walking to work from Victoria station and turned my head to the right, checking the road for traffic, and I just saw this photo. It’s turned out as I envisaged it, I think. It’s nice when that happens.
If it wasn’t for the distinctive topography of my home town, Hebden Bridge, I doubt I would have felt inspired enough to keep this blog going for 2,370 days. I do spend quite a bit of time here — some 40% of the shots are from HB. And, well, it does look rather good in the right light. I try to do it justice.
The weather remains glorious (sarcasm warning), thus provoking a wilfully uneventful weekend. The Mediterranean food stall at the Sunday market does its best in very non-Mediterranean conditions.
A day spent entirely at or in the vicinity of home was never going to be easy photographically, so let’s pick up some more of HB’s amusing graffiti to epitomise the day. Plenty of post-processing was needed to bring out the blue of the spray paint. But if only I could add the missing apostrophe without feeling like a total pedant.
Richmond Street, Manchester. Overnight I have cogitated on a possible pithy commentary for this one and none springs to mind so let me allow the photo to stand on its own for a change…
One of those pictures where I didn’t really notice the details until it was ‘developed’ (that is, uploaded to the laptop). I thought the pigeon was actually a traffic camera until I looked more closely.
China Lane, Manchester, was until relatively recently part of the old warehouse district. However, due to its proximity to Piccadilly station, in the 21st century it has become full of apartbouhotiques and bars where you can buy £7 glasses of Lithuanian stout with plates of felched scallop on the side. But at least there are still places to sleep.
I will start moving around the planet again at some point but for now I’m where I’ve been most of the last two and a half months, namely at home in Hebden Bridge, which can be littered with interminably extended building projects just the same as Manchester can. The building that used to be the “Hole In The Wall” pub has been belching rubble over the street outside for what seems like about three years now. I actually saw someone working there today — but that is a rarity.
