As I’m having the week off, a chance to do highbrow things like hang around art galleries with the wife, who wanted to see this exhibition, Women in Revolt, at the Whitworth in Manchester. For this artist, her revolt seemed to consist of working with a camera for the three minutes it took to record the piece, the content of which can be guessed from the title of this post. Munch did it better, but if that’s the way you want to revolt, go for it, I suppose.
In the years I have been doing this blog I have made my way through five cameras, giving an average lifespan, for each, of somewhere between two and three years. The latest came quite close to dying today: a few minutes after I took this picture I thought it had gone, in the same way as they always go, namely the zoom lens freezing up permanently. This would have been a major problem seeing as I am still stuck out in the mid-Atlantic, a few thousand miles from a reasonable camera retailer. However, after putting it in the fridge (literally), it has recovered, for now — but I will be using it sparingly for the rest of my time here. In which case, this is not going to be the very last shot taken with the Leica; but it was close to being.
This is the BBC World Service’s station on Ascension Island — from here, programmes are received, converted and relayed to South America and Africa, including until quite recently the Voice of America, but DOGE put paid to that, and as the manager of the station told me today, who is going to take up the slack? Russia and China, certainly. Thank you so much, MAGA. A fascinating morning in fact, but not an edifying prospect for the future, even if I do know more about global communications technology than I did last night.
Time to do some work. I didn’t travel out here only to access this room, but it was certainly a contributing factor. Did you know that when the Royal Navy handed over control of Ascension Island in 1922, the place was in possession of 4½ pounds of Bovril? Now you do.
A hundred years ago the town of Burnley had 103,000 people in it; these days it has about 78,000, so around a quarter fewer. They still seem pretty closely packed in, though.
He is watching something. The eye in the sky is below him and can’t watch him from there, but I capture him with a long zoom. Everyone is watching someone else.
From the colour of one specific bit of Manchester yesterday, to this scene of utter grayness. Or is it greyness with an E? I’ve never been sure. Gra/ey it was today though, for sure. Such a gloomy day .
My first Hebden Bridge picture in one whole month. It doesn’t seem like the pigeons have changed their behaviour much since I’ve been away: still the group callisthenics, tight circles around a carefully-chosen patch of town. They look impressive enough in black-and-white. Except for the one who’s broken formation, to the lower left.
I’ve been here before — not just in life, but on the blog, with this picture, taken on my first trip to St Helena. That one is also in black-and-white, and today that aesthetic move relieves some of the more garish colouring, particularly of the Hawaiian shirt of the guy on the left. Who, by the way, keeps saying hello to me as if he’s never met me before, whereas in the past we’ve had numerous conversations. But perhaps I am just forgettable, in a way that he is not.
On the wall of the Cape Town terminal for the ferry to Robben Island is painted a quote from Nelson Mandela: “It is said that one only knows a nation until one has been inside its jails.” And he would know, as he spent 27 years in this place. The tour was worth doing, although it’s not as evocative a place as Alcatraz, nor as terrifying as the remains of the cells displayed at the War Remnants museum in Saigon. But none of these are places I would like to spend time — or Do Time. South Africa is a place which still has its problems but, with hindsight, the fact that it now seems to have had a reasonably stable democracy for 30 years post-apartheid, and all the systems and structures (like this place) which kept it going: these reflect well enough on the country.
Being 42 