This ‘reading in the pub’ theme has been done before but after nearly 5,000 days some things just come round again. Anyway, taking in James V. Wertsch’s concept of ‘mediated action’ is better done with the accompaniment of alcohol, I feel.
While there is football here — I saw it on Sunday afternoon — skittles appears to be the principal sporting activity of those who live on Ascension Island, drawing people to the Saints Bar in Georgetown on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday nights. Tonight, The Painkillers team, made up of staff from the hospital, brought their mascot along for support. It didn’t do them any good though, they were well beaten by The Power (they run the power station — you dig?).
Taken from the Saints Club bar: the only pub in Georgetown. I was wondering what creatures had been leaving big piles of poo outside my accommodation, but now I know. Good grief, this place really is the middle of nowhere.
The week ends where quite a few of them do. Neither Steve nor Dex look particularly enthused by the prospect, but the weekend remains young.
Fellow pack member Trixie gets her close ups done, and as a result becomes the latest animal to make a confirmed second appearance on the blog (her debut was on 3/4/24). I think between us we just about got the focus right.
The weather was no worse today, and perhaps I should have made more of this, but I had done a few miles yesterday and there seemed little need to go any further than the pub, with the outside tables filling up for the first time this year. Long may the sunshine last — which of course it won’t, in Britain it never does. This couple stayed for only a short time, so presumably were being more active.
The association between this pub and Halifax Minster is obvious, even before noticing the painting hanging inside, which depicts the choir ‘practising’ while swilling ale in the tavern; and it was painted in the 1790s, apparently. The beer inside is still decent but there wasn’t much singing going on tonight. This is one of the shots where you can check my timekeeping.
Pinocchio joined us in the Railway this afternoon courtesy of Toby, the Gepetto in this particular relationship. Toby makes things, it’s what he does, and he’s pretty good at it too. But even he declared this particular creation to be ‘a bit creepy’. Perhaps all puppets are, to some extent.
Now I’m at home, the risk is run of having nothing particularly interesting or different to photograph — and that was certainly the case today. With apologies to my friends gathered around the fire for the usual Friday evening transition, who are of course interesting (most of the time) but maybe not all that different, at least, not to me.
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.
Being 42 