It’s Joe’s birthday this weekend. For the first part of his treat, went into Manchester to see Oliver!, courtesy of my sister. But we had pictures from the theatre last weekend, so let’s vary the scenery. I like Albert Square, it’s about the only part of Manchester which is picturesque, at least, on the few days a year when there’s not a bunch of tents, market stalls, traffic cones or something else covering the cobbles.
Day off today – so I went and did what I had done every other day this week, and went into Manchester. With educational ends however. This is the Museum of Science and Industry (MOSI), a fine place to spend time, and this is a replica of the world’s first stored-program computer, dontcha know. If it wasn’t for this thing we’d all still be communicating via radio. Or something.
Sensational happenings in St Peter’s Square, Manchester city centre, this evening, as this photographer snaps undeniable proof that we have, indeed, been attacked by killer robots from outer space. I would have stuck around to collect marketable shots of the aftermath, but I had to go home for my tea. (There are more on Facebook, if you are interested.)
Recently, throughout Manchester, this face has been appearing on the side of buses. Now I was sure that Margaret Thatcher had once said, “Anyone seen regularly on a bus after the age of 30 can count themselves a failure in life”.
However, I checked out the veracity of this quote and according to a Wikipedia talk page, it may be apocryphal.
Still, how much funnier it would now be if she had really said it.
Tolerable weather this morning so I left home without any equipment. On the two-mile walk back from my office to the railway station, I decided happiness would have been a small frame of wire with some synthetic material stretched over it, even if it had been red with black spots and had two comedy eyes poking up from the top. I’m still damp now, several hours later.
Same train in so I pass through the same parts of Manchester at the same time. Off I go to work one way, this guy goes a second way, the bird goes a third. I wonder if pigeons sometimes wake up in the morning with a headache, and just don’t feel very much into the day, but set off anyway through a sense of obligation.
After 12 consecutive days in Hebden Bridge or the immediate area, I made it into Manchester for the first time since graduation day (Dec 14th). Started early enough for it still to be dark even after my 50-minute train journey in. This shot is of what looks like the cleaning crew reporting for their own early start, at Selfridges department store on Cross Street.
Why do I like this shot of such a mundane moment? I like the stripes of light, I like the fact that the focus is as good as it could be (bearing in mind the low light levels) on the illuminated guy in the grey jacket, and I like that as soon as Joe saw it he said he thought the two lightsabers were cool.
Back to Manchester. Xmas market still full of stuff this morning. Isn’t it a little late to be expecting to get rid of a few dozen Christmas trees and ten reindeer seemingly made out of compost? Maybe, but what do I know.
December 2011 dawned pleasantly mild – rather different than the 1st December 2010, the defining characteristic of which will be clear from a quick look at this Facebook album. The light this morning was really good: a good sign of that is when you pass a scene you see two or three times a week, on average, and see it in…. well, see it in a new light. As here.
This (on the right) is Boris, one of my colleagues from Moscow (see October 23-27), visiting Manchester for a couple of days. He is well into his 60s but has a 6-year-old daughter, which I find kinda sweet. A nice guy, if you don’t enquire too deeply into what he did in the Soviet era.
I also quite like Manchester’s German-inspired Christmas markets, which achieve the (for me) astonishing combination of being both highly Christmassy and yet not twee nor over-commercial. I like this shot because of the stallholder’s pleasant look of satisfaction as Boris decides whether to get a gift for his daughter.
Being 42 