Collingwood and Meriva

The silk of soft summer rain came as a comforting surprise as I scattered a little bird food after my short post-night shift sleep. I was pleased; I had actually been looking forward to the rain. Probably not as much as the gardens and fields of the south, but looking forward. The BBC forecast is notoriously inaccurate, its icons on my home page, a waste of time. The met brief at 4am had seemed to dash any hopes of rain in my area. But, yesterday, after a successful photo-shoot at Collingwood I had invited rain to provide new challenges for the camera, perhaps in b&w.

The open day at HMS Collingwood was a success both photographic and moral; the former as already stated and the latter because I am increasingly reluctant to waste the time between and after nights. It had been a challenge then to go already tired on a humid day to an inevitably crowded venue. It was crowded. Parking was well organised and entry well facilitated with only light handed security. Only the ominous presence of a Police CCTV van jarred slightly as we entered, a reminder of surveillance Britain but perhaps a low-key way of providing the security needed at a military establishment on a public day. I thought it might be being used NPR-style on people so that if the Stubbington chapter of Al Qaeda should turn up, the authorities could act appropriately, perhaps by sealing off the bouncy castle. The accessible parts of the grounds were, for the day, like a funfair or county show. I don't think the attractions revealed much about the everyday life of Collingwood but to wander around with 'a different eye' revealed plenty for the lens. It was about picking subjects, imagining what the results would look like, could look like in b&w and being incredibly if uncharacteristically patient to exclude the people from most shots. I think my set 'HMS Collingwood Open Day' on Flickr is a success.

I haven't had a bath in four years. I should hasten to add that I have occasionally showered in the same period but I just don't have the inclination to lie around in a bath, a terrible waste of time for the creatively tense (neurotic, near-autistic). Yesterday was an easy exception. I was tired, hot and dirty when we crawled back in from nearby Collingwood. I ran the bath, put some sort of bubbly stuff in it and soaked for the Oram equivalent of a very long time. I wrapped myself in a luxurious towel, dabbed and dried and stepped into pyjamas which would stay on until it was again time to prepare for work. By that time I was having serious doubts about the future for Ronan Parke and quietly predicting (really) a Jai McDowall victory. I think the BGT result was fair but, with three singing acts filling the top spots, Simon needs to decide if the show has somehow become X-Factor's Siamese twin.

We have had our new car for over a week now and wonder if we can remain attached for as long as we did with the Vectra. It is nice in many ways but there are too many irksome things. I think we would both like to return to bigger load space. For that, we are looking forward to the Zafira facelift. I am not convinced that opposing doors are anything but a novelty and running lights remain a curiosity in this country. I do not much like the electronic parking brake and I am not much looking forward to calling the AA if one of my tyres encounters anything larger than a drawing pin. That may seem a little disingenuous because I have no intention of changing a wheel but a spare of some kind does mean going home before finding the nearest tyre retailer. The cruise control problem is only intermittent and we have not been able to reproduce it for a couple of days.

Now it remains only to see which I enjoy more; two afternoons on White Watch or a week in Norway. I should cruise through both.

Cheating

I do not know if an octopus, possessed of eight arms, could work faster but I, with the standard two, am going to have to cheat and bandbox my latest blog entries. I can not back-up and process my photographs with attendant notes and write everything I would like to write when it is fresh in my mind. Nothing seemed very fresh yesterday when a tired mind and tired body were still recovering from night shifts. For that reason, we got going well after the middle of the day and drove to Gosport for the ferry. Although the offer was there, I had to resist the temptation to go to Jessops, Hedge End and risk going further than Saturday's speculative visit to Currys to look at cameras. Tempted by the Panasonic FZ-100 and, unexpectedly, by the Fujifilm HS10, I found that I had too much information to digest and new criteria to consider. I could suddenly see some advantages to using AA batteries. Furthermore, we are about to be bombarded by yet more new products from several manufacturers. The only thing I can say with certainty is that I have no use for a 3D camera.
So, back in Gosport or, by now, in Portsmouth after the ferry ride, food was a priority - as I rarely have my lunch at 2pm - and a vague idea of a boat trip was forming. It was our third visit to Giraffe, Gunwharf Quays and I commend both food and service. It did add to the occasion sitting outside on a wonderful, blessed afternoon. On a previous visit to Gunwharf we had been disappointed that boat trips finished early. yesterday, in the Dockyard, we discovered one leaving at 4pm which allowed just enough time for a quick dabble in the fascinating surroundings before boarding. The tour then provided exactly what I wanted with close approaches to both Naval Base and Continental Ferry Port. There were a lot of naval vessels moored but it is a sad reflection on the state of our armed services that the majority were decommissioned or otherwise idle. It is astonishing that all three (current) Type 45 Daring Class ships were in - they are Daring, Dauntless and Diamond. It is rumoured that we can not afford to run them. What must be the morale of their crews and commanders? I would not much mind if the government of the day decided that we would reduce our armed services to the levels necessary only for the immediate defence of the United Kingdom. Instead, successive haphazard and incoherent defence reviews commit those services to more and more often far-flung activity with ever fewer resources. There is no obvious long-term plan beyond ostensible cost-savings.

When we have commitments in London we frequently stay one night before or after and are fortunate to be able to do so. Today then our destination was our favoured Heathrow Renaissance - close enough to London for most purposes - and we did not intend to waste the journey. Our first stop after a late breakfast was the RHS Garden at Wisley where the tulips were fantastic.

The car parks, although close to over-subscribed, receive little attention at Wisley so random parking leads to poor use of the space available. We went on for only my second visit (I think) to Brooklands. Much has changed in the area in the 6-7 years since my last visit and Mercedes-Benz World was evidently providing pleasure to many. The Brooklands Museum itself is a bit of mixed bag and I can only be honest in my review. Money has been spent on facilities and the contents of the shop but the aircraft displays (more than the vehicles) are close to being preserved but largely unrestored junk. There is, to be fair, a similar experience at many museums across the transport spectrum. We bought a Couple membership to show support but the fact that the Concorde (DG) attraction is £4 (£3 for members) more is inexplicable. I must say though I got a lot of enjoyment out of the exhibits. At both Wisley and Brooklands I had to contend with the insouciant and the medicated and, this being the Easter holiday, their lovely children/grandchildren. I turned it into a bit of a challenge; it is quite a skill to exclude completely from ones photographs the people at a busy venue. I have done it with patience (possibly a misrepresentation of one of my smaller virtues) and not Photoshop. As the results arrive on Facebook and Flickr, I hope you enjoy them.

A Preview of Easter

With a full week to go to the first of consecutive four day weekends, a manic mass of humanity thronged Tesco and, later, Sainsburys. I understand why they were shopping so fervently. In all the days ahead right up to Bank Holiday Monday, the shops are closing only on Easter Sunday - in a ridiculous sop to a minority superstition - and so anyone who has not stocked up adequately with Pringles or Pampers could so easily starve to death or end up with the Social Services round. Let me sketch a typical Tesco car park scene to explain my irritation bordering on ire. We arrived when it was already busy and selected an outside space whilsit almost everyone else fought over the already over-subscribed covered spaces. A Peugot 206 or something similar was in a space with spaces either side. We could not go in the nearer of these because the (grand)mother was taking ten minutes with the door wide open fastening grandchild into childseat. Mummy/daughter was in the car but had left her trolley in the other space, an act of banal selfishness which she seemed to think was perfectly natural. I think she was preparing for verbal combat when I passed a comment prior to taking the offending trolley back to the pen. It took me one minute and, with her mother still faffing around on the other side, I think she might have had time to do that. I did not engage her further. One can not reason with the unreasonable.

I am dismayed and puzzled that a decision has been made to revisit the plan to abolish cheques from 2018. That is seven years time, not tomorrow. The remaining two people who want to use cheques will both be dead by then. There is nothing to review, this is a bullet which should be bitten whilst progress is made with EFT and contactless cards.

I am also dismayed and puzzled by the antipathy and suspicion directed to photographers on both sides of the Atlantic and probably elsewhere. So, let's get a few things straight. There is nothing inherently wrong or suspicious about taking photographs of buildings, buses, aircraft, cats, street art or anything. One of the things I have learned from posting to Flickr is that it is depressingly difficult to take anything original. In fact for almost any given subject you can name there are invariably thousands of pictures already on Flickr and in hundreds of other places on the internet. Whatever the perceptions of transport enthusiasts, architecture fans or anyone with unfamiliar hobbies, the fact is that there is limitless information about anything and everything and pictures of those same things in the electronic world we all inhabit.

I shall probably take some photographs on these three weekends and in between whilst simultaneously avoiding the 18m cars expected to be on the roads. I don't know what those photographs will be but I doubt I shall be undertaking any futile journeys to overcrowded destinations reached late and left early. However, I hope you all enjoy your leisure in your own ways.

Hindhead, Heathrow and Hunger

Haze fought with sunshine and, for the most part, sunshine won to produce a pleasant day. It took us a while to get going and a while longer to leave the Havant area but now the holiday had begun. Little Chef, Liphook is one of the last outposts of a ragged and volatile chain which has always offered reliable food but with variable service. Today it was interesting to compare it with some of our probable US destinations in the next two weeks. America almost always offers good if rather stereotyped and rehearsed service. In the UK we too have reached a state where service is mostly pleasant and, on occasion, sincerely so. Where we do not compete is on price and portion size but this, perhaps surprisingly, is only half of a bad thing. Prices are scary and that is inevitable with the government gobbling 20% VAT from every plate for no effort. This, in conjunction with sometimes modest portions, can create an impression of poor value but there is an upside. A typical eating place in, say, Palm Springs, will offer portions of a size so ridiculously large (a bit like many Americans, in fact) that waste is inevitable. A meal is enjoyed less because to order two courses is a risk and to order three, futile gluttony. While there are people on this planet who starve or are undernourished, food waste is a sin and all those associated with it should be ashamed.

There is nothing like seeing something for yourself, so I seized the opportunity today to clarify in my own mind mystifying media reports from earlier in the week when the Miss James bridge segment of the A3/Hindhead Tunnel project opened. Based on what I had seen previously, I doubted the descriptions of dirt and plantings across the bridge. Today, I came, I saw and I concurred. My inevitable photographs are on Flickr.

Neither of us wanted to dabble in London before heading for the familiar Heathrow Renaissance. I left Greg in our rather ordinary room and went into the central area to photograph without any real theme. I was pleased with the results. Heathrow can now compete with JFK and to a lesser extent LAX for its tiresomely endless redevelopment which turns almost all of it into an incoherent and cluttered mess. Precisely the problem of such loudly trumpeted investment - which may well be ready for the Rio Olympics but certainly not those in London - is that the aesthetics of the new can never be enjoyed in the chaos of the journey to the next. Heathrow must be one of the largest sponsors of the UK construction industry and pours more concrete than all the mafia families of the US combined. There was, in fact, one exception to my exasperated observations. The outside of Terminal 3 departures is now splendidly attractive partly because the milling traffic does not come right up to the old curb line now mercifully lost in a much extended frontage.

The implacable march of progress will (I believe) lead in turn to the demolition of the iconic control tower building, best known for being my workplace from 1983 to 1991. I photographed that today and perhaps shall not have another opportunity. My photography may not be brilliant but it is determined and I walked  a long way today to photograph the Emirates  A380 model at the Heathrow entrance having previously done so only from above.

In the evening we shunned the hotel restaurant on grounds of expense but, ironically, ended up at the Sipson Tandoori, not our original intent and not cheap, although the food is good. When we went out we encountered nightmare traffic and, in a notably Asian area, I felt that some sub-continent driving styles had impinged upon our roads. I fancied pizza but the Hayes Pizza Hut was hopelessly busy and a long drive brought us back to the once favoured haunt of LATCC diners. Our car is at 0655 and we have familiar seats on our LAX flight. My next post will be from BST -8.

A Week Before Los Angeles

A sticky seatbelt, a broken tap and strange behaviour from AOL were features of the first part of our weekend. My Saturday attendance for TRUCE was quite enjoyable and much enhanced by the contributions of four pilots. The emergency scenarios were creative especially coming from a colleague who had only recently returned from South Africa where, a few days ago, he completed a gruelling cycle race in a highly commendable time. I think he must have cheddar or wine in his genes as he is actually getting better with age whereas I am, more like a Japanese power station, just slowly decaying.

The BBC weather forecast, if unreliable, has at least become pessimistic so that, often, the day is much nicer than predicted. Lately, the rather restrained 'white cloud' has, in fact, meant quite a lot of sunshine. Thus it was today; actually rather cold at times but cheeringly bright and an encouraging background to our near-impromptu itinerary. I felt I wanted to do something on this last day off before we travel to Heathrow and then Los Angeles. At the same time I did not feel that a long drive before an early morning was a very good idea. In fact, Greg did all the driving uncomplainingly and very well for a West Sussex circular I had devised from a brief study of the atlas. I wanted to see any traces of a (railway) line which used to run from Chichester to Lavant, well within my lifetime but nevertheless a long time ago. A remnant itself of a former passenger line, it carried only aggregates traffic in my time and that now moves to and from a location just west of Chichester station. As we traced what is now Centurion Way, a pedestrian and cycle path, we had our first insight into the considerable beauty with which West Sussex competes with nearby Hampshire. North towards Midhurst and east of that route it just gets better. We stopped at the Weald & Downland Open Air Museum at Singleton. I was impressed and captivated. A minimum visit time of three hours is suggested but I doubt even that would do the site justice. For the photographer the possibilities are endless; the historian would simply drown in information. The best thing, I think, is to walk and photograph and try to absorb some of the information provided. I am not sure that my pictures will all be processed before we leave for California. They will appear in due course on Flickr with highlights on Facebook.

The fascination of the exhibits distracted from the physical effort of a long walk within 50 acres. It had its ups and downs and, although it was not Steve's cycle race, it was more exercise than I usually do in a week. I suddenly felt both physically and creatively exhausted. My legs or some part of me protested whilst my mind raced ahead to how I would group and classify the photographs I had taken. Predictably, there would be little point in going on to Petworth so we continued towards Midhurst where a brief foray into Station Road revealed no trace of another line long gone. Bridge work on the A3(M) south of Horndean protracted Greg's much appreciated labours still further but, with one stop for Tesco fuel, we were home to work with our respective cameras. In my case I would do nothing which would hinder a 4.30 start (tomorrow morning) and I would slip into a comfortable mental gear to cruise towards next Sunday's journey to Heathrow and the following day's familiar westbound flight to LAX.

Greg bought me a beautiful bronze hare which deserves a good place to be displayed. Thank you, darling.

Chinese Restaurants and Coping With Age

This is a difficult entry to write made easier by a sleep inspired revival of optimism. I usually refrain from direct comments about work, mindful of my employer's caution about the nature of social networking. I do not intend to stray far from my self-imposed rule but things have been difficult for me for a week following a lapse of concentration. The event and its consequences made me feel old, stupid and humiliated. None of these feelings, I should emphasise, was in any way reinforced by my colleagues. They instead have been endlessly supportive whilst noting that I myself increasingly recognise my own limitations. A period of supervision through a process which reflects well on my employer, was inevitably painful again through no fault of employer or immediate colleagues but rather because of the self-examination it invokes. It is behind me now and a range of options lie ahead. I shall return tomorrow to a role I love and colleagues I love more. I don't want to be remembered for ineptitude and failure and a course change may be necessary before the first starting gun is fired in Stratford. As in showbusiness, one is most remembered for ones last performance.

Such has been the intensity of my photography that I have been making much more use of my time off between shifts and resting less at times when I should be active. I am very grateful to Greg for driving me around to help me achieve my objectives. These remain 40,000 views on Flickr (approaching) and 5,000 Flickr posts (achievable well before year end). Many of my contributions are to groups I could not have imagined 18 months ago. I don't think I would ever have been motivated to photograph Chinese Restaurants and Takeaways but now I am acutely aware of the extraordinary proliferation of such establishments even in South Hampshire. Yesterday, I photographed more than I even realised at the time. As photogaphers or pedestrians, we should look up more. Doing just that also yesterday, led me to the image now at the head of this blog. I was thrilled too to see the arrival at Portsmouth of HMS Bulwark only 24 hours after seeing and photographing her at Marchwood. For a while now, I have been inspired by the contents of one book to move on to another and to explore further subjects or concepts raised by them. Now I am equally inspired by the interactions between photostreams in Flickr through my contacts. I am grateful to them for helping me with usability tips. Thorough captioning, adding text and tags increases my pleasure. My relationship with the internet though remains fragile. Computers and their mysteries frighten me. Whilst I want some sort of internet fame through my photographs, I am astonished and, occasionally, a little disturbed by where they end up. With my images protected from all but the computer super-literate, it is usually a link that travels around but I was taken aback to find my pictures of Devon and Cornwall police vehicles on a Newquay tourism/comedy club page. The number of views of some images is gratifying but also baffling.

It is perhaps disturbing too that I can be so pre-occupied with matters so inconsequential while Japan recovers from unexpected horror. It is a reflection on their preparedness and resilience that relatively few people died although I do not in any way diminish the deaths which did occur. It is easy to understand how to prepare for earthquakes but impossible to imagine how any nation could ever combat tsunami. If ever there was an irresistible force of nature it is the 10m wave bearing tens of millions of tons of water. If I were religious I would pray for Japan; as it is I'll just try to think of them.

In just over two weeks we shall fly to Los Angeles. For me it is always an exciting place to arrive and leave. It is my gateway to another life, a life lived in two week stretches. A life of loving Americans for their lifestyle and hating them for their ignorance and banality. A life of sunshine and palms lived by a mind and  body which misses rain after two weeks. This vacation will be a watershed. Whatever we think of the new management of Inndulge we shall take the opportunity to move back to the east coast in 2012. That assumes we shall be able to afford the fares; in fact it assumes we shall be able to afford to drive to the airport.

Good night and thank you Matt and David xx

Long After Day 2

My regular readers might have noticed that 'Kent & Sussex Weekend - Day 1' was not immediately followed by the 'Day 2' you might have expected. We got back from our Sunday travels with more photographs than I could quickly process and there were many other things to keep me busy too. Thus passed Sunday evening, Monday and most of Tuesday. At the weekend we had completed a surprisingly coherent itinerary on which there was so much to see that compromises had to be made. Thus no emergency vehicles and only one Chinese restaurant featured in my day's work. Bright weather accompanied an early departure from Maidstone. Sutton Valence castle eluded me apparently because of discontinuous or poorly placed signage and we stopped first at Headcorn airfield. I have made a similar visit before and enjoyed myself on both occasions. The ground was waterlogged but it had not stopped operations in key areas and I stayed to watch the first jump of the day from G-OHPC which I more usually see on radar. At Tenterden, the Kent and East Sussex Railway had a running day but, unfortunately, it was a Thomas day. I steered well clear of the shoals of children and the £12.50 entrance fee which would have made for expensive photography on a day when I had no opportunity to travel and satisfied myself with lineside photography. I do not care for faces on locomotives but, even with such an adornment, the noisy arrival of 1638 'Duck' with a mixed goods was exciting. Sissinghurst offered an interesting Penny Farthing sculpture cum installation and we moved on to East Grinstead. The Spa Valley Railway was closed but the Smith & Western hotel is a reminder of the once routine external opulence of many station buildings.

The main objective of the day was the Bluebell Railway on which we visited Horsted Keynes and Sheffield Park stations. I enjoyed both very much. Only as we prepared to leave the southerly station did it start to spit with rain and on the way home it rained heavily. The future demands another similar circuit with different stops perhaps including castles and gardens. This weekend had taken us to four heritage railways so perhaps something more balanced towards Greg is called for.

Monday brought more bad weather and a shopping trip for Mum. There were few photographic opportunities but I mentally catalogued some more Chinese restaurants. The evening brought some unexpected tray related memories which I posted, with photographs, on Facebook and Flickr. The prospect of five days out of six as Watch Supervisor gave rise to some apprehension as I have less confidence in my ability than might sometimes appear to be the case. Tuesday, the first of the six, brought many and diverse tasks and plenty of decision making. There appeared to be little time between breakfast and lunch and then, almost seamlessly, I was in Sainsburys with Greg to shop and, in particular, to buy our preferred mineral water. Nights would not be the same without a glass by the bed and in fact, as I write, I am imagining that scene as I hope to get some decent sleep.

Kent & Sussex Weekend - Day 1

A promising bright start was soon behind us, overtaken by cloud and rain as we headed along familiar roads for once familiar destinations. With Canterbury as a first objective, it was only as I joined the A2 that I really felt I was getting somewhere on a journey that was hard with the effects of night shifts still slowing mind and body. So much has happened in the Kent we knew and it was a little disconcerting to see places and things which were familiar and not at the same time; a past life seen through muslin. It was perhaps a little more disconcerting to calculate how long it is since some of the places we visited today were regular haunts. Although we lived in Gravesend for a long time, our Canterbury era was a while before that and we rarely ventured into east Kent's towns in those twelve years. Canterbury today was a literal and metaphorical washout. We had gone primarily to see the new Gormley in the cathedral. After our pleasant visit a few weeks ago to Salisbury it was nothing less than a shock to find that its Kent cousin charges a shameful £8 for entry. A desultory single person ticket booth kept a small queue waiting unnecessary minutes in the heavy rain and we decided that £16 to see a sculpture we might not be able to photograph was a price not worth paying. We went to Morellis which appears to have relocated. Although I would not single them out for criticism, the visit reminded me that food and drink are getting very expensive. I imagine a few establishments have slipped in a bit of a price increase behind the 20% VAT smokescreen. No town is best seen in wet weather but Canterbury today was a nightmare of limited parking exacerbated by the kind of town planning - extended pedestrianisation we do not recall - which only the worst of planners can conceive and the worst of councils can approve. The car park we crept into effectively charges double on Saturday by making 2hrs the minimum chargeable period. We went up the Littlebourne Road to St. Martins Hospital at which Greg used to work in two buildings. Both have changed and one is abandoned. It was a shock to realise that that job was about 21 years ago and a little amusing to note that the former St. Martin's House is now Gregory Day Hospital.

A journey via Sandwich on roads where people wanted to go faster than seemed appropriate for either their design or the weather took us to Shepherdswell, home of the East Kent Light Railway (EKLR). This, to my mind, is an underpublicised railway and local signage does little to help it. My experience there after a shaky start was absolutely wonderful and I am still smiling inwardly at my photographs. My attempts to park or, strictly speaking, to reverse away from somewhere I could not park led to an embarrassing collision with a fence and being temporarily stuck in mud of which there was plenty today. I could not in all conscience drive away from the damage and went off to find some of the volunteers whose presence could be deduced from the parked vans. I showed them the damage and offered to pay for it but it appears that I had inadvertently started some demolition they were planning anyway. I was apologetic nonetheless and made a donation. They made me a cup of tea which I consumed after unlimited access to the site where no trains were running today. It is a mecca for me if I may say that without invoking jihad upon rail enthusiasts across the land. They have a large representation of Southern Region (and its successors') emus and a wonderful Easten Region Metro Cammell dmu which made me feel quite emotional. The visit and its results, reviewed later in our Maidstone hotel, were an object lesson in photographic perseverance. The unwelcome weather had not suggested photography but I was determined not to leave empty handed from somewhere I can visit only rarely. It rained remorselessly during my walk round but I am thrilled with the pictures. Two or three have been marred by drops on the lens which I was frequently drying whilst fearing for the general well being of my non-resistant camera. Its automatics have produced some great images and the awkwardness of wielding the camera in such poor weather led me to miss verticals only a couple of times. Sets will appear on Facebook and Flickr.

An attempt to visit Dover Transport Museum (Greg has a very thrilling life with me) was thwarted by its odd opening times which do not include Saturdays. The external exhibits alone make it worth returning. There was an unexpected and pleasant surprise ahead (is it possible to have an expected surprise?). We stopped at the Stop 24 services area on the M20 near Folkestone. I assume it is named for its opening hours and not after two packs of one dozen condoms.....

It is a very nice service area, perhaps even a model for others. I do not think I can imagine another with a Julian Graves. Retail aside, it has slightly limited eating options at the moment but there was absolutely nothing wrong with Breakfast Break where my burger was cooked fresh and the bread for Greg's sandwich was sliced behind the counter rather than before it entered the packet. We were served by Kevin the Teenager who had a poor short term memory at least where tomatoes are concerned but he did seem to have remembered some of his customer service training. The light, spacious building was further enhanced by two ATMs which don't charge for withdrawals which must be almost unheard of on motorways. One of them dispenses Euros which I have not seen anywhere else (in the UK, audience).

There was another surprise in the Marriott car park which contained a bright orange Porsche. I can only imagine it was associated with the golf club; when one sees what golfers wear, one can hardly expect taste in car colours. The only thing is, I can not believe it is dealer supplied colour - well, not that kind of dealer anyway - and that left me wondering what sort of damaged person would do that to his/her expensive car.

We are due on two railways tomorrow - Greg will probably be up all night with excitement - and notwithstanding my precipitation defying success of today, I would like a little sunshine or dry air. It might take a while for photographs to appear as my Orange dongle might not be up to the task. Please feel free to applaud on FB.

A rare four day weekend started here. For today, I stood astride a chasm of fatigue separating on the one side achievement and on the other, anticipation. It had been a difficult night duty requiring difficult decisions against the background of an imprecise weather forecast. My morning sleep was necessarily minimal before going to collect my Mum for lunch.

Beefeater is the kind of place people go when they believe they have become too sophisticated for KFC or, perhaps, simply to collect Nectar points. I intended to do so but ultimately forgot after a visit frustratingly protracted by courteous but rather harassed service. I don't think the Harbour Lights in-house analyst had done his/her half-term predictions. The food was adequate but indisputably overpriced. My prawns which were about £9 each or thereabouts were cooling rapidly when they arrived. My fillet steak was quite possibly the correct cut but of mediocre quality.

I felt that Mum and Greg did not need my company for their Tesco shopping in the half-term crowds of people on their way to or from Beefeater (or perhaps KFC for those wearing tracksuit bottoms). From the car park I captured a scene which might well have been from America and is now on Facebook and Flickr. The light was unpredictable but, with Greg driving, I was able to add to my Chinese restauarant portfolio. The truth is I could not wait for tomorrow's start of a two day excursion to Kent and Sussex. With the weather unpredictable our itinerary remains fluid but I can predict with certainty that we shall not cover all the potential destinations.

Fareham as Haven

Perhaps because of my intra-night duty semi-catatonia I found myself remarkably placid and light of affect today. I was able almost wholly to overlook the fact that half-term had brought unruly hordes to the streets of Fareham. It had been a pleasure and a surprise to see sunshine when I stirred from my short but valuable extra sleep. I can no longer allow night shifts to affect my life disproportionately and so, having checked the dates of the food in the fridge, we committed to lunch out without really knowing what we wanted. The meal was pleasant but incidental and, with Greg enjoying coffee outside on a rare warm day, I went to take photographs.

Increasingly I am amazed at how much there is to photograph even in ones local area and how choosing to photograph selected subjects leads one more closely to examine other things around. Things previously mundane ask you to enquire into their history. I am really enjoying contributing toward Chinese Restaurant Worldwide Documentation Project . I don't even care if you think that is impossibly geeky. It is like geographing on a smaller scale and that makes it a manageable compromise. I can imagine contributing to other specialist streams as long as they inspire me and help make me one of the most published photographers on the internet.

We went on to look at the proliferation of Chinese Restaurants and Takeaways on Brockhurst Road, Gosport. Many of those are frequently obstructed by cars and will take a long time to reach Flickr but I was inevitably captivated by Fort Brockhurst, already a favourite building. I also paused at one of Gosport's many tiled pubs. I like the style a lot and think its inherent timelessness will inspire more pictures.

The second night shift in prospect seemed very manageable and we plan to visit Kent over the weekend but do not expect to be much helped by the weather after today's welcome brightness.

Fatigue and Rain - Enemies Defeated

A second night shift passed quickly enough as I had plenty to do. I had to sleep when I got in and we planned to out when our cleaner arrived. The weather was pretty foul albeit with some remissions in the course of the afternoon but I intended to minimise its restrictions on me. We ate at the always reliable Cafe Tusk, which I have reviewed before and where the food was very good. We had haircuts and will need only one more before flying to Los Angeles. I have now been to Fareham dozens of times but am still noticing things which surprise me and entice the camera. Today, as shown on Flickr, I found a very elaborate drinking fountain and noted an attractive Art Deco building housing the rather more functional W H Smith and other businesses. I wanted to keep going and asked Greg to drive me to Portsmouth Cathedral where I photographed the important Blitz Memorial unveiled this year on the 70th anniversary of the city's worst night in WWII.

It remained only to collect dry cleaning so that I shall look nice on my extra attendances later this week then rest ahead of another busy day tomorrow.

How I Survived Between Nights

Faced with a busy day between night shifts when I should rather be recuperating, I was fortunate to have enjoyed the kindness of colleague Fran. I would call this exceptional and nearly did so but, in fact, that would be unkind because it is more typical than it is exceptional. With some extra rest in the bank, I survived remarkably well and got far more done even than I had expected. The weather helped too, being largely sunny. We went to collect my Mum for her Low Vision Assessment to be conducted at Tombs and Allen. It turned out to be an uplifting experience with levels of service which have simply disappeared in many other places. Three aids were identified for Mum and, astonishingly, are being provided cost-free under a scheme we didn't know existed. A long and thorough appointment allowed me and Greg to do our shopping at Waitrose, a rare event, and return it home. I still had time and, to my surprise, the energy to walk to Gosport Station. A fairly sympathetic redevelopment of this long closed station has been completed and the results please my eye; enough in fact to post a picture at the head of this blog.

Inevitably, I succumbed to sleep in the afternoon and woke to work on Flickr. A post on FB about driveways proved satisfyingly provocative as it was meant to be. I love being controversial. In the evening Greg and I ate our Valentine's meal, bought at Waitrose. In fact, after eating, I realised we had inadvertently hybridised our meal with a main course not purchased in the Valentine's promotion. However, the food was very nice and to spend most of the day with Greg, albeit before a night duty, was lovely and appropriate as we approach 33 years together.

Rome Weekend - Day 2

The best way to leave a restaurant is reluctantly. I was all too keen to leave Ristorante Il Peperone at Via Veneto, 97 tonight. The food was fine; the service was poor. The roles seemed to be divided between  a mixture of unhappy Asians and their extremely detached Italian superiors. None was attentive, lacking even the basic skill of offering dessert after a suitable pause following the main course. So inattentive were they that, even in a quiet restaurant, they forgot to charge for our desserts and coffee. Only because I feared arrest if they somehow blamed us for this oversight I brought it to their attention and their remedy was not to amend the bill but to produce a second, leading to two credit card transactions. Still, there was no repeat of last night's attempted scam.

Rome and Paris have a lot in common. Both are beautiful cities. Both are inhabited by people who believe they have style which they do not and both have countless examples of stunningly selfish parking. Double parking is virtually mandatory and triple parking is not unheard of. I can only imagine that all the perpetrators belong to the 'I'm only going to be a few minutes' club. This caveat of course makes ones vehicle much less of an obstacle as does leaving on ones hazard flashers in the UK. A streak of selfishness bordering frequently on lawlessness runs through the Italian psyche. On Roma Termini station where smoking is banned, it is hard to avoid smokers the most daring of whom are finishing their cigarettes not only on the platforms but actually in train doorways with only the ash beyond the plane of the carriage's boundary.

It was a beautiful day in Rome but still required a coat. As in many cities, the canyons formed by closely spaced buildings can be cold as well as dark. These same conditions made photography more challenging. The greater challenge though lies in achieving some originality in one of the most photographed cities on earth. I think I have done that in some of my Flickr photostream. It took a while to get motivated. I found the buses unexciting, a feeling with which most of you are probably already familiar. Motivation was difficult too at Roma Termini station. Although the concourse area is developed and clean, the station infrastructure of (presumably) 60s concrete shows visible decay. Wider decay is evident in the shameful external condition of many of the trains including locomotives. Toilet facilities at 70c per use were woefully inadequate, a downstairs closure apparently leaving limited capacity and consequent queues for facilities on which the Euros collected had not obviously been spent.

We had Metro tickets but the easiest way to get around and see as much as possible is on foot. We walked a long way. The Colosseum and Forum were of course busy but some of the side streets were surprisingly tranquil and pleasant. In one such we found a good buffet lunch which revived us enough to continue the uphill walk to the hotel. Breakfast at the hotel is taken on the 7th floor which has a roof garden. That was open during breakfast but closed in the afternoon which I found surprising and mean. I doubt that the motivation was Health and Safety - this is Italy.

Rome, I suppose, is no more representative of Italy at large than London is of England or Britain but it certainly is expensive. Although, like London, there is no season as such with a constant stream of tourists, I felt there were signs of strain on the economy.

Devon & Cornwall - Day 4

In a lush green field beside the A30 and not far from Exeter, a solitary deer raised its head. Seeming unperturbed by whatever had momentarily caught its attention, it returned to its grazing. A golden evening closed a blue day and became bronze. Extraordinary evening light washed across Devon and touched Axminster but dusk reached Dorset before I did, save for a few bronze beams against coast facing trees and Bridport lay in the pleasant mist of evening. A day as bright as yesterday was dull had heightened the senses. It made it possible to be grateful for almost everything.

Our decision to return home was fixed but a day of unbroken sunshine made it possible to linger along the way and to meander. It was still cold but our hearts were warmed by the light and everything seemed to be a photograph. We left Rosecare mid-morning and stopped soon at Otterham Station for another excellent breakfast at Piers Cafe. The sound of arriving motorbikes brought no peril; rather a sedate bunch of middle-aged men on a 'Sunday Out' and dangerously eating........bacon sandwiches. Presumably the one with the Norton was the non-conformist. I dabbled with Bodmin and conceded that Greg should get at least one shop for every ten railways/airports/bus stations etc.

On today's route that meant Trago Mills (near Liskeard). Trago Mills is an amalgam of retail styles and has the best bits of none. It is essentially a very large junk shop cum indoor boot sale and I am fairly sure that no-one actually knows why they go there. But they do so in their hundreds and thousands. This is the classic place to buy things you didn't know you wanted and to be convinced that you have saved money in doing so. There is a nasty undercurrent of overt nationalism at Trago, a bastion of UKIP and focal point for anyone vaguely anti-metric, anti-European or, possible anti anything that happened since 1750.

I never tire of crossing the Tamar Bridge with its view of the adjacent and remarkable  Brunel railway bridge. Thus to Plymouth where, I must admit, my enthusiasm waned a bit when I could not suck inspiration out of the  monolithic city centre war-damage replacement buildings. There must be much more to see but today was not the day to linger. Fortuitously our escape route took us past Laira, a name which encapsulates the glory of a railway which is no more. The depot is still large and, on a Sunday, is full of trains. In the UK we like to dramatically reduce the number of trains running on the one day when most people are free to travel.

With no script to work from I decided to go to Newton Abbot to meet a friend who works in CGI, a volatile industry. We met, pleasantly, nearer to Torquay and I was glad that our travels of last year had given us some knowledge of the area. And so, north via Exeter and then we sped across the south west to the accompaniment of the beautiful sights recorded above. It is so nice to go travelling but it's oh so lovely to come home.....

Please enjoy my photographs on Flickr and Facebook.

Slipped Through My Fingers

The evening was golden and it was blue but the silky colours which caressed the dying day could not deny that that day had slipped through my fingers. A little regret was partially suppressed by a few photographs snatched before tantalising late sun fell into dusk. I was lucky to have a defuser colleague at hand when an unexpected incident at work upset me more than I would have imagined. I bounced back as one must and stayed on for an important meeting. All these things are important but now my desire to get back to recently ill Greg competed with the desire to do a couple of things and mixed with disappointment that many of my photographic aspirations would remain still on a to-do list. Many of my Flickr photographs are taken not strictly to satisfy my own hobbies other than Flickr itself. They are taken instead to contribute to various groups. One such is the improbable 'Chinese Restaurant Worldwide Documentation Project'. It excludes rather pragmatically such restaurants in China and Hong Kong but I am rather enjoying adding those I see more easily. My humble documentation of those in my own area seem to attract a respectable number of views.

With Greg recovering from his recent indisposition, we felt able to eat Indian food this evening. The latest 'Taste the Difference' boxed meal from Sainsburys was flawless. Quantities and flavours were excellent, the composition of the meal avoided the predictable and to consume it was uplifting.

To continue with upliftment I turned to the living room and our recordings of Great British Railway Journeys. No praise is too high for the series or its presenter, Michael Portillo. The programmes delicately balance railway interest with extraordinary history and contemporary narration. So soothing is the content that a problem has now arisen on more than one occasion. I fall asleep not with ennui but sheer contentment and we have to return to the recording at a more wakeful moment. If I can do anything in life as well as Portillo presents these programmes then I shall have achieved something. Perhaps I shall have to settle for loving Greg and my friends in my own peculiar way.

An Essay on Flickr and Photography

Photography, being a branch of art even when intended as documentary, inevitably gives rise to subjective judgements. Opinions, even on technical merit, can only be personal. As a photographer of only modest ability and operating within my own criteria, Flickr gives me hours of pleasure both as a repository for my own work and as a source of inspiration. Where does inspiration become plagiarism? It does not have to. I think the answer lies within the 6bn+ images on Flickr itself. What is apparent as much as anything from the work there is the WAY people interpret what they see. This is most evident in the views of the world's most photographed subjects. It is possible still to be original, to see something that has not been seen before or in way it has not been seen before. I saw this this morning in albums of Paris and Rome. Some of the pictures are remarkable. In these I do not include HDR images which have not yet persuaded me of their raison d'être nor are they likely to do so.

HDR is an example of several things I do not need to do to my pictures. I do not use Photoshop and keep any PP to a minimum. I like to work with what presents itself to the camera and use basic photographic skills to make the picture. These skills seem sadly lacking in many pictures today. The analogy I would use to illustrate the difference between those of us brought up with often limited film cameras and those exposed (as it were) only to the digital age is that of the introduction of the calculator. It was evident that when this now everyday item arrived, you needed to understand the underlying mathematical calculation to be sure that the indicated answer was correct. To use a digital camera effectively, even with extensive reliance on its automatics, a grasp of some of the principles is not only desirable but, I think essential. I can not really understand people who 'snap'. I understand it less when they are satisfied with the results.

Several things should go hand in hand. There has to be some sort of composition. Verticals are important unless a skew is an intentional part of the image. Objects can be used to frame a subject. Awareness whilst taking a shot is important. General awareness should go with an understanding of light. One should be aware of anything or anyone within or entering the frame which is not wanted. This is particularly important with compacts where depth of field options are limited. Our eyes process out a lot of unwanted information which a camera will capture unblinkingly. This includes clutter which detracts from the intended subject and shadows arising from particularly harsh light. Even with the range of equivalent ISO available in digital cameras, an understanding of light is perhaps the most important tool in ones box. Harsh light will create the unseemly shadows already mentioned and very dull light will suck the contrast from the picture. In my opinion photographs can not be forced. Without inspiration and volition the image will be poor or diminished.

Online storage or sharing is a mixed blessing. Personally, I do not 'dump' on Flickr although one of its functions is storage. My OCD comes to the fore when people do not caption, or tag with correct spelling or do not check the date stamp. The great thing about Flickr is that it provides an opportunity to encourage other people and I won't deny that receiving similar encouragement is a big thrill.

Waves Of Emotion

The weather was at last (partially) bright as promised and my hopes were high. I had arranged my shift to allow me to go beforehand to a bus display and running day organised by Friends of King Alfred Buses (FoKAB). First I wanted to see my Mum and, on the way there, collect the paper. As I was paying for the Times and Telegraph, two papers in the hope of finding some inspirational travel ads, I saw that an owl had arrived outside accompanied by a human. I love birds and was absolutely thrilled. I was also excited because this was a perfect example of an unexpected photographic opportunity and some vindication for carrying a camera almost everywhere. The pictures are now on Flickr. I was allowed to pet the beautiful bird and he sat on my arm. This made me deeply emotional; I have not been so moved in a long time.

My Mum unfortunately has not been very well and was less well this morning. She was evidently very anxious too and I spent some time arranging medical attention. I myself have used the out of hours service recently and, although it comes under great stress at holiday times, found it very satisfactory. Mum's triage call came quickly and while we were still there. A doctor's house call would take longer and we went about our business, remaining in touch by phone.

Winchester is a fascinating city and was today the location of the FoKAB running day. Fortunately, I had decided to go first to the St. Catherine's Park & Ride where there was an excellent display of buses and by far the best photographic opportunities. With patience, a quality which abounds in me, I was able to work around the hard of moving and semi-catatonic who chose to spend several minutes in front of each vehicle reading the informative placards. The position of the sun was not ideal for all the parked vehicles but I stoically accepted that my powers do not yet extend to manipulating the solar system. The vehicles present were magnificent in condition and variety. Those which meant most to me were the Portsmouth and Southdown examples; there were vehicles I had never imagined I would see again and I found myself again emotional. We went on to the city centre and it was clear that the area around Broadway and the bus station was much less satisfactory for photography although watching would have been good had I had time. I did not, as I now had to plan my journey to work. Pizza Hut, probably not more than a third full, seemed overwhelmed. We walked out when our order was not taken after about ten minutes. It was not a bad decision; our M&S lunch was excellent. The Brooks shopping centre is pointless and inadequate and its car park is both of those things as well as poorly designed and lit and claustrophobic. If you travel around the country as much as we do you will know how many car parks are completely inappropriately designed for the vehicles they are supposed to accommodate. Surely, it can not be beyond the wit of architects and structural engineers to produce a car park which does not have hopelessly tight turns and pillars projecting into every space. These inadequacies notwithstanding, Winchester is a city which deserves at least two more visits in the near future.

In the meantime, I would like to thank and congratulate FoKAB on an excellent display and running day. Weary though I was when I headed for work, it was also with raised spirits.

No Favours

To enter the sixth day of a cycle always imbues me with a certain sense of optimism for the days ahead. The weather continues to keep us in a state of uncertainty. The clearance (in our area) of the snow by wind and rain was, for this part of the world, a remarkably swift change but, overall, the cold has persisted and was the dominant feature of today. There was sunshine too as fog failed to cling to the day. I have great if vague hopes for the days off and my next leave is close enough to be a filip in itself. This morning, we went to Sainsbury's recently re-opened Broadcut (Fareham) store not because we like to go further than we need to shop but because we thought we should give it a look and because only Sainsbury's has our preferred mineral water. The new exterior is less than attractive and certainly not imaginative.

Inside, a better ambience than I expected has been achieved but it is evident that the powerful supermarket will be giving nothing away before Christmas. It was notable that milk is once again a ridiculous price this seeming more than anything to vary wildly throughout the year. I could not help an envious glance towards the Luckett's yard. I have approval in principle to photograph there but our recent communication has petered out. I am feeling very pleased that a number of my 1975 and 1980s Trident photographs are soon to appear on a new website. As I now am one of the oldest people where I work there will be many there who have little or no idea what a Trident is/was. I hope they enjoy my pictures.

24 Hours

Like a scene from a Harry Potter movie, the night's mist wrapped itself around familiar scenery and dreamt of being fog. By morning, its dream had come true. The night saw very little rest as we ensured that a TMA cloaked in autumn was a safe place to fly and land. I had written to-do lists for both nights and felt apprehensive about my workload but the dawn saw only one item remaining to be done. The second night would be far more comfortable.

Even on a busy night there is time to dip into Flickr. My stats are fascinating (to me). What people will view is quite unpredictable. My work has now been viewed more than 19,000 times which indicates a modest level of internet fame but the web remains a scary place. I often wonder why people have viewed some images and from where. There are hidden depths in the title 'Unknown Source'. My recent entirely documentary photograph of a Nissan Cube has attracted an inexplicable number of views whilst my more recent 'Poppies' - (The Luminescence of Those Remembered) has made a slow start. There is still more work undone and missed. There were three opportunities with various subjects missed before Monday's unexpected chance to photograph fire engines (for contacts more than myself). One missed opportunity I particularly regret as it can recur, if at all, only on Remembrance Sunday.

In the morning autumn frost and fog were a stark vanguard of a winter which might again be harsh. I paused to take some workplace pictures and spray the car. On the other side of a partially restorative sleep bright sunshine made my area a very pleasant place to be for lunch. True, the fog clung late to the Solent but succumbed in the couple of hours we were out. Monk's Hill shone in more photographs and the sun lulled me into my second sleep which would last into the inevitable early darkness which marks this time of year.

PS 'Miranda' - new series - Brilliant

Together In Eclectic Dreams

We don't always take a full day off before travelling but to do so has its advantages. It slows the paces, aids relaxation. Relaxing is something I don't do well. I usually approach an opportunity with some suspicion. Our forthcoming journey is a familiar one, an annual pilgrimage to late autumn sunshine in a convivial atmosphere. Today was a reminder of exactly why we go; not cold but so grey (for the most part). My photographs of HMS Albion at sea where almost monochrome before I processed them. My camera today captured the diversity of my photostream in just 3-4 hours. There was West Quay, police vehicles, urinals, pumpkins and then the Royal Navy at work before the government dismantles it.

We went to West Quay in a comfortable pre-Christmas lull to meet a friend with whom diaries have not matched in many months. It was very pleasant but kept us away a little longer than might otherwise have been the case from online check-in. To hold the boarding passes is a lift. We have the seats we want. With the ink drying on those we went into Lee for lunch and some last minute activities. Sea King activity had caught our eyes and turned out to be associated with an exercise in the Solent. There were two other ships involved but photography of even the one was a challenge.

There remained only packing and some restorative rest. This blog will guide you through our stay in Palm Springs (edited if necessary) and the Halloween party should be a highlight. If you can not comment here please do so on Facebook and if you can do neither then just enjoy my illustrated ramblings.