Did not feel a great deal more interested in engaging with the world today than I did yesterday, but was obliged to haul myself into Manchester in any case. The city seems to have definitively adopted Alan Turing (that’s him…) as one of its own, despite the fact that he only spent the very last portion of his truncated life here. But hey, there are many worse and less significant people to eulogise.
Really didn’t feel like engaging with people today. Let this shot be a metaphor for that state of mind…. or perhaps, just the only thing I really felt like photographing today, up in the garden. At least the sun was shining. This was the day’s only redeeming feature.
The outdoor stalls at Todmorden market stay there permanently, and well before the presumed 9am opening time of the rest of the enterprise, this guy was out with his boxes trying to get the early morning trade. There wasn’t any, hence the title of this post. I like this shot because it’s the one I was trying to take, and the car headlight poking through the struts is the final bonus.
What, on the other hand, was I doing in Todmorden — as opposed to being somewhat nearer Manchester — at this time in the morning? Don’t ask. Just part of the Conservative Party’s Annual Autumn Travel Lottery.
Advent calendars which just involved opening a door and seeing a picture of an elf or something have long been deemed passé; now there must be something to consume, or play with, or build. As in the Harry Potter Lego Multimedia Cross-Disciplinary Advertising calendar that the wife has acquired this year. Day 2 — build the Hogwarts Express, for Master Potter who came out bright and fresh on Dec 1 (that’s him to bottom right).
December, and what endless delights this month is going to offer to us in the UK, beyond even just the usual encroachment of dusk into ever-earlier segments of the day. I did not find a huge amount to inspire me photographically today, but this one will do; the rule of thirds is met well enough. The floodlights illuminate Spotland, the home of Rochdale FC.
Flying reduces one to a platelet in a bloodstream, being pushed through a number of tin pipes and artificially-lit domains, with little sense of the outside world passing, particularly on a night flight at this time of year. I left Salatiga just after taking yesterday’s shot, so about 11.30am Indonesian time on Friday, and this shot depicts my arrival in Manchester on Saturday morning, having seen only darkness for about 18 hours since leaving Jakarta. The journey went well, though…. at least until I got to Manchester Victoria and Northern Rail took over. But that’s another (unending) story.
The last picture from my week in Indonesia, and the fourth one to be taken in the grounds of the Kayu Arum hotel, this time by the swimming pool. Yes, it would be nice if the blue line at the top were parallel with the rest, but hey. This blog is not a commercial venture so any endorsement I offer of a place or company is purely based on my own opinions — and this was a damn fine hotel, peaceful (once the weekend family groups had departed, anyway: and the early morning call to prayer was done), beautiful gardens, good food, etc. etc. If you’re in Salatiga I highly recommend it. Indeed I recommend the place as a whole; I haven’t had face-to-face engagement with a non-Indonesian all week, and feel my life has been better for it. Time to head home, however. Until the next trip.
My last full day here: my journey home starts tomorrow. Finally, a chance to get out into the Indonesian landscape (at least, photographically) with a trip to Candi Gedong Songo, or “Nine Temples Park”, a very beautiful slice of woodland way up in the hills. Although whoever named the place wasn’t very good at counting, as we followed the paths faithfully yet definitely only found five temples. Nevertheless they were very attractive, Hindu shrines from way back.
Yes, I know, that makes two insects in a row. But despite visiting the temple of Borobudur today (impressive…) and an Indonesian football match (esoteric…) — I can’t avoid using this one. How often does one capture a butterfly not only in flight, but in focus. I’m rather proud of this picture.
Incidentally this is taken at least 5,000 feet (1,600m or so) above sea level, at the Ketep Pass, east of Borobudur.
Was determined to get a picture for today that wasn’t one I could have taken at home, or indeed just about anywhere else in the world. And, for sure, we don’t get critters like this in England. I woke up yesterday having been covered in bites from some man-eating insect or other while I slept: it won’t have been this one, but looking at those mandibles, I’m thankful for small mercies, at least.
Being 42 