The independent retail institution that is Affleck’s Palace in Manchester seems, thankfully, to have survived all that virus-related crap and remains the place to go if you want to buy just about anything that is a little off-beat (and see its previous appearance). There are dozens of stalls like this. I wasn’t in the place to pick up a gas mask, however, in case you were wondering.
Documentary. I got on this train at 7.56am at Hebden Bridge. A few minutes later I got off it again, at Todmorden (where this shot is taken), thanks to it being, as you can hopefully tell,. a stupidly overcrowded two-carriage cattle truck, and waited for the next one. On Monday I have to spend about 10.5 hours on a train…. what we do for our kicks, eh?
This place is taking up the majority of my thinking energy at the moment and will continue to do so for some time to come. These maps of how things were in 1988 are not going to play a major part in my cogitations and analysis — particularly not number 7, at the bottom of this spread — but it’s all a useful insight into how things once were: this is why we need records, and archives to store them in.
And yes, I know I have hairy arms and hands. It’s always been the case. This is the first self-portrait since October.
And so ends February 2023, a varied month for me, some very interesting periods and some deadly dull ones. Photographically, it ends in a pub on Stoke-on-Trent station, mainly for lighting reasons. Though the beer was quite good too.
“I know I present as red. But inside there’s that little bit of green that’s always been on the verge of coming out.”
Norway remains third in the ranks of most-depicted country on this blog, behind only England and Australia, but it’s a while since I’ve been there — four years and ten months in fact (26/4/2018 was its last appearance). I should rectify this. In the meantime, it seems as if Norway is willing to come to Hebden Bridge: why this flag was planted in the square amongst the usual Sunday crowd of visitors, I do not know, but there it is.
On Lincoln’s only previous appearance on this blog (10/3/20) the outside of the Cathedral was depicted: today I (and Clare, visible as a slightly blurred figure on the left) went inside. The interior is just as impressive, particularly considering this was all raised to the glory of the Almighty more than 700 years ago. As I noted on my previous post, this was the tallest building in the world in the Middle Ages, a title it held for at least 230 years. You don’t have to be particularly religious to recognise that with this place, the builders really made a statement.
I don’t know why I at first chose to point my camera at this wall (on Abingdon Street in Manchester). It was only after uploading the shot that I noticed the very evident face on the cigarette bin. Kind of spooky, in fact: an inanimate object with a secret inner life, if ever there was one.
It was about time I paid another visit to the Lake District, having missed out on most of the winter, and I was not the only person to be thinking that it was too nice a day to stay indoors. The walkers stand on Knott Rigg, a fairly inconsequential lump that becomes the 306th Wainwright bagged on my second round, so I have 24 to go. In the background, Red Pike.
I notice that this blog, which was started on my 42nd birthday — hence the name — has now reached day 4,200. I am sure that I will think of some way of marking 6th April, which I calculate will be day 4,242.
Life at the moment is having its uneventful spells, and this is the middle of one of them. But at least the immediate locality continues to provide sufficient photo opportunities.
Being 42 