I know my sister Vicki follows this blog, so let me say that it was, as always, nice to see them in Hebden Bridge tonight. This is a picture of her and Pete (the tattoos are the giveaway) and not one of a Thai corn ball, even though that does form the foreground.
This Japanese restaurant certainly solicits some kind of comment from its customers — most of its walls were like this, not just this one. And the wife (Friday Night Date) and I were very satisfied too, good food. I don’t do advertising on this blog but you might look in the High Street area of Manchester city centre if you want a decent ramen. I know this shot is overly pink but I did do my best with the white balance.
There seem to be a lot of sparrows in Gibraltar, and many of them have acquired the habit of hanging around restaurants and cafés: which seems a reasonable evolutionary adaptation to me. On Sunday I went into one place that had an entire flock of them seemingly living inside the building. Here, we are outside, but nevertheless, this chap looks quite content with his lot. All three of us — me, the bird, and the guy behind — were waiting for our lunch.
I have rarely* had cause to complain about the food in the Middle East and the offerings here at the hotel in Dubai are no exception. It is no coincidence that this is the second shot from here to feature food, and in only four pictures thus far — see this similar effort from March 2019.
[*] there was one legendarily bad meal in Jeddah, though — the exception that proves the rule? Either way the memory of a liver-and-banana stew still lives with me.
My PhD student of the last five years, Sara, passed her viva voce examination today — with only minor corrections, a very good result (for a good thesis, I honestly did think) — and so took me out to dinner at a Turkish restaurant in Manchester. The place’s waiters definitely had an overblown sense of theatrics. Salman, Sara’s son, looks somewhat apprehensively at one of them striding towards us with the kind of flamethrower that, if carried outside, would probably see him arrested for branding an offensive weapon. All this just to put a second or two of extra charring on the spicy meatballs. Food was good, though.
This is one of those occasions where an often-seen view suddenly struck me, for the first time, as possible material for a picture. And with a long zoom, it seems to have worked out. I like the details, such as the panda face to the left. Doubtless if you are Chinese, there will be more. Though apparently, the banners read “Happy New Year” (if the very small writing at the bottom of each is to be believed): proof that this particular culture is no more fastidious about taking down the seasonal decorations than are the English.
Someone Else’s Art, I guess — but I like it, and the customer’s red hat sets the composition off nicely. I liked the pho, too.
Anne’s Place in Jamestown is a St Helena institution and is the go-to spot for tourists and locals alike. Many of the former have, down the years, contributed the flags that now obscure its corrugated-iron ceiling. Some of these are fabulously obscure; the one with yellow and black checks near the bar proudly commemorates “Sutton United FC: Papa Johns’ Trophy Final 2022”. To not only have brought such an object all the way to St Helena, but to have, presumably, done so specifically to donate it: that’s commitment.
I did want to get a photo of Joe posted from this weekend; after all we did go all the way to Scotland just to check up on him. Well, mostly. This is the first time he has appeared on here since July 23rd last year.
This is not particularly Toronto-specific. There are at least three, and probably more, blatant electrical wires running across the shot in various directions. There are all sorts of reflections intruding and the head resides above what appears to be a fusebox. Nevertheless this is certainly my most interesting shot of the day, it feels to me like a collage. (The food in this place had similar characteristics — that is, random and possibly incompatible things nevertheless pushed together into the same space — but that’s another story.)
Being 42 