It’s our silver wedding anniversary this week. “Take me overseas!” the wife demanded, so I said, ‘sure’, and we have headed to the Isle of Wight. Well, you have to cross the sea to get there: starting with Portsmouth Harbour, pictured.
The Ideal Book? Good question. This afternoon’s visitors to the WIlliam Morris gallery in Walthamstow, London, get the chance to ponder this question. Morris himself gave a lot of care and attention in his later life to producing the ideal book. If you ask me it’s Shogun, but that’s just a personal and rather non-literary opinion.
The whole flower-in-pub theme appeared a few days ago, but let’s return to it: it is, at least, a different pub, different flower, different day. Limited horizons this week but that ends today as 10 days off work now beckons, so let’s see what trouble I can get into.
Hauled myself over to campus, which has been a rare occurrence during this bout of study leave and, in some ways, today reminded me of why. But I guess it was not a complete waste of time. This shot of the preliminaries was perhaps the most interesting thing about the seminar I attended from 3pm, however. Things seem to be floating, and I like the blue.
There has been a considerable amount of travelling evident over the last two months, and it’s not quite finished yet: I have one more trip to make, coming up. But this week it has been time to settle in back home, and expect most of July and all of August to be much the same, I have writing to get on with. Meanwhile, though, a hole in an old bucket. It might not be in Canada, or Namibia, but it’s still something to enjoy.
Bradford has featured on here reasonably regularly, this being its 27th appearance. It is one of those places that seems to be in a constant state of urban ‘renewal’. Presumably because it is to be the UK’s City of Culture in 2025, at the moment, a big pedestrianisation project seems to be consuming the whole of the city centre. This may be a good thing, in the end. On the other hand, the big Marks & Spencer store has closed — and in the UK, this is as good a marker as any that a retail centre is in trouble. This picture is taken early on but it wasn’t a great deal busier when I came back through at lunchtime, on a sunny summer’s day. Will all this beautification take so long that by the time it’s ready to go, there’s nothing left? (The bus station has fallen down, too.)
I imagine this scene may well have looked much the same 100 years ago. Only the blue plastic Co-op bag really gives it away. A good day today — proof that while travel can be good, it’s almost always nice to come home. And the sun was shining too.
I spent the whole day, from 1.30am in Toronto when we boarded the plane, until 6.45pm when arriving back in Hebden Bridge, on a series of rather overcrowded tin pipes. If we included Heathrow Airport itself as number 2, this train at King’s Cross was the fourth, and the most overcrowded pipe of all — the East Coast main line going into spasm once more thanks to some ‘operational incident’ or other. But at least I was in a seat. Home now, anyway, and no more flying aboard for a while. I need a rest.
My last day in Toronto. I could say ‘on this trip’ or I could say ‘forever’ and the fact is I don’t know at the moment, ‘cos it’s the future, and as yet undetermined. But I do hope to return.
Waiting out a 6-hour flight delay was made more entertaining by watching Spain v Italy in the Firkin pub on Yonge Street: location for what remains my favourite shot yet taken in Canada, namely this one on 14/10/2021. Both these guys were cheering for the same team, specifically Spain: and both went away happy, as they duly won, 1-0.
‘Pioneer Village’ really is the name of this district, with the building on which the letters are sat being the Toronto Subway station of that name. But I doubt the pioneers, of whatever nation, who first explored the regions north of Lake Ontario quite anticipated their village would end up looking like this. Decent sunset, though.
Being 42 