I should have returned home after yesterday’s walk, and that I didn’t was evidence of quite how dreadful the buses were in the Lake District yesterday; also that I am lucky I could stay with the in-laws in Morecambe, otherwise I might have been sleeping in Lancaster station overnight. Like everywhere else at the moment, it is a building work-in-progress. I like the blues on this shot.
And so, the journey back, via Brighton, St Pancras, King’s Cross, Leeds and Hebden Bridge stations. Pictured — the fourth of these. It’s now time to find inspiration at home for a while, in various senses.
A metaphor of some kind? Quite possibly. We are all waiting for something. But at least the sun was shining on Hebden Bridge station this morning.
Anywhere in the vicinity of the Keighley & Worth Valley Railway and I seem to have an irresistible urge to whack on the sepia filter. It’s appropriate, at least. A steam train would have been nice to add to the shot but one’s just departed, and anyway, it would have got in the way of the nice curve of the track.
Another railway station, but this is more one of those shots where I was just trying to get the various horizontals and verticals to come out true: and for once I think I have managed it, although is there just the slightest curve on the tracks? If I never said that, however, perhaps you would not have noticed.
Watching them, watching me? Actually it’s very unlikely anyone is actually ‘watching’ at any given moment, but that’s Michel Foucault’s point about the surveillance society — people discipline themselves anyway. What I’d really like to know is why someone felt two cameras, pointing in the same direction, were really needed to monitor the ‘forgotten footbridge‘ at Manchester Victoria station. Why buy only one, when money can be wasted on two to do exactly the same pointless job?
After a few weekends recently which have ended on a Monday morning at King’s Cross station — like this one, say — a weekend that, instead, ended on a Monday morning at Cardiff Central station. At least I managed to get on the first truly punctual public transport service experienced since leaving home on Friday morning. I like how the light falls on this one: this is not direct sunlight, instead it is being reflected off the facade of the BBC building across the plaza, behind me.
Collingham, in rural Nottinghamshire, becomes the 445th different named place to be featured on here: so I maintain the record of, more or less, one new place every ten days on average. This illustrates my urge to explore, if nothing else. Pictured, the start of my journey home: two and three-quarter hours later I was back in Hebden Bridge.
Should I have cropped the bits to the left? The fence annoys me a little: but on the other hand I couldn’t lose it without losing the hint of red light, which I like.
Just beyond the fence at Low Moor railway station, in Bradford, are stored these bizarre sculptures, or possibly they are some kind of carnival float. I really have no idea what story these make together, though. A close-up was no more revealing, so let’s go with this long shot under stormy skies instead.
Another weekend in London — the third in three months — ends where they always do, namely King’s Cross station. This war memorial stands facing platforms 1-3, and has always interested me firstly because my name (Whitworth) appears on it twice, with an unseen pillar to the right of this shot commemorating Whitworth, F. and Whitworth, W. A., who as with everyone else named on here was an employee of the Great Northern Railway lost in action. I also like this just because it looks good; it was unveiled just over ten years ago, when the station was rebuilt.
Being 42 