Humber Street

In 1987, my father bought me my first SLR. Notice the D is missing. So, I did say SLR and not DSLR. It was a Praktica MTL3 and it is now retired (polite way of saying Kaput) and sitting on a shelf in my son’s room. It took film. And the first roll of film that I shot with it was down Humber Street

In 1987, Humber Street was the fruit market of Hull, and I’m not making an unpolitically correct joke about sensitive men looking to do sensitive things with other sensitive men. No. That would be wrong and very un-enlightened of me. No, they did that in other places dotted around the city.

I used to shoot my film, get it developed at a place on Newland Ave, where I got the camera, and the guy would present me with a contact sheet and critique my photos. For those of you who were born after this analogical age, a contact sheet is where you lay out the negatives on a sheet of photographic paper, and expose the paper, and develop it, and get a whole load of thumbnail images that you can look at and decide which were worth printing. Yes, just like the thumbnails you get on the gallery on your phone, except it might have taken a little longer…

There was one image that pleased me immensely of a cat sitting quietly on a box of fruit wondering what the hell I was up to. That was then.

Skip forward a few years, just a few mind you, because I’m not an old git yet. No sonny Jim, I’m just a git! The area came into it’s own in 2017 when Hull was declared City Of Culture. People were proud of their city again and there were whisperers whispering, “Come to ‘Ull, it’s not shite anymore!”

The ‘gentrification’ of the area started with bars, and even Art Galleries! Then of course came the Humber Street Sesh, showing some amazing local musical talent. This year’s Street Sesh was last night, so you’ve missed it!

At the bottom is the Minerva. Minerva is of course the wise old owl in Greek mythology. It is also a pub which always has such a special place in people’s hearts. They do good food and good beer, and good gin, so the wife was more than happy.

The two nights before these photos, I had met up with and old friend from my school days who was kind enough not to mention all the silly shit that I used to get up to in my youth. The next night was a school reunion with people I hadn’t seen since 1985 and 1988 for the lads. Tales were told that I will not repeat here including stories about a pogo stick, and how I once said “merde” to my French teacher and left the room throwing my French books into the bin on the way out. They told my French wife, “Well he always was a bit European….”

Well now, you’ve kept reading up to now so I suppose I should tell you about these photos. They were taken on the Sunday night when I needed some “me” time to deal with the overwhelming overload of nostalgia. I was out with the Canon 6D Mark II, and the 16-35mm lens. Hope you like them.

Did I go on for too long?

Beverley Minster, East Yorkshire

You might just have noticed that I didn’t publish anything last Wednesday. And even if you didn’t not notice, I still didn’t publish anything last Wednesday. I had just had some time off work and had just got back from an amazing visit to Hull to meet up with some old friends that I was at school with, and hadn’t seen since school. The next couple of articles will feature photos from that visit.

Soooooo… We travelled up from the Vendée, to catch the ferry at Zeebrugge, in Belgium. We usually set off quite early but this time it was a bit silly kind of early. No it wasn’t, it was the downright obscene kind of early! That kind of early that you only do when it’s summer and really hot during the day, and you want to drive at least a couple of hundred kilometres without passing out from the heat.

Needless to say, we were “on time.” Not the first in the queue, but not far off. Anyway, the sail over was really good. The food and drink were great and we actually got a good night’s sleep. So fresh eyed and bushy tailed as only fresh eyed and bushy tailed little bunnies can be, we arrived in Hull. Yes Hull is what I consider as home… You can take the boy out of Hull, but not the Hull out of the boy. I still get emotional when I listen to the Housemartins. Which is why, as soon as we got off the boat and had to wait for the hotel room, we went off to Beverley.

There were two places I wanted to visit. The Minster and St Mary’s Church. I’m not forcing religion down your throats, but as I said in the article about the St Nicolas Basilica in Nantes, these buildings were designed by men in which to connect with God, and everything in them leads man to God. Even if you’re not a believer, you can tell that this is no ordinary building. I’m always amazed by the architecture and how the builders managed to construct such edifices and what technology the must have used.

I love the intricacy in the stone work, or in the wood carvings, or the paint on the organ pipes, but what really moves me are the memorials to the dead of the World Wars, and the Colours (battle honours) of the regiments that no longer exist but had men that fought and died together as brothers. In some of these photos you can what remains of these “flags” and how it is so important not to forget those that went before us.

Off to see Mum and Dad in Alnmouth

Alnmouth is one of those picture postcard villages that the UK does so well. I have a good few photos of the place but these are winter photos, and I can always share the others with you later on in posts to come. This was the culmination of our trip. I’d been needing to go home for ages. Brexit has been taking a lot out of me, and add on the worries about my Dads health, you get a mixture of all kinds of crappy!

Anyway, as you’ll see in the photos, Alnmouth is the kind of place that will just help you forget everything and it just works its magic on you. My parents hadn’t seen Killian for over a year and my Mum suggested that we go out for a walk. Needless to say, I took my camera with me. I kept falling behind because I would stop to take a photo. Seems to happen quite often when I’m out.

I just felt that I was in the right place. Everything felt fine in a way that it seldom does in my everyday life. I felt at peace. it’s the kind of place that helps me forget. I was able to se my parents. Killian was there too and not at all anxious. It was like why can’t every day be like this.

For the photo geeks out there, I was using the X100F. Here are the photos….

Greyfriar’s Kirkyard, Edinburgh

We’d both decided that before we even got here we would have to visit this Churchyard with many of Edinburgh’s famous and infamous residents who decided to stay on permanently… JK Rowling used some of the residents’ names for her characters in the Harry Potter books. See if you can spot where Tom Riddle is buried…

It’s a very “haunting” place and is supposed to be one of the most ghostly cemeteries in the UK. As you get closer to the (now closed) section where the Convenanters were imprisoned you can really feel the ominous pain and suffering that they endured at the hands of Mackenzie, and the hatred as you pass Mackenzie’s mausoleum.

Elsewhere there was a feeling of calm. The sun was just coming up over the hill and Edinburgh castle was so warm in the golden hour light.

This little guy, as bold as brass just didn’t care about the photo shoot! He just went around looking for food…

The first morning in Edinburgh

It was that time of the month. The month of December that is. In between Christmas and the New Year. Those days where you’re in food limbo and don’t know what day it is..

Let me explain… Last Summer we went on our annual visit to see my parents in Northumberland. My son was working at the time and couldn’t come with us. My daughter had her two parents all to herself.

Towards the middle of Autumn, my father was in hospital and we we’re all very worried. I hadn’t received “the” call to come home but I was in a bit of a state about the whole thing. Wanting to spend time with him etc, and during Autumn and Winter I tend to get very homesick. My parents were about to go on a cruise over Christmas and the doctors said that he couldn’t go, as they “wanted to keep an eye on him.” As it turned out, he didn’t have pancreatic cancer, and just need his heart medication changing. But I felt so crappy living miles away and not being able to do anything, and failing completely as a dutiful son.

I had once jokingly said, “You know I’m capable of coming over to see you.” To which he replied, “You are capable of many things!” Well that had stayed in my mind, and as Autumn turned into Winter I decided that my son and I would go and see both my parents. We decided on staying in Edinburgh, and we could take the train down and see them. All this to explain what the heck I was doing in Scotland.

I got the poor bugger out of bed before the crack of down, and headed down for breakfast. Not just an ordinary breakfast. Oh no. We don’t do Ordinary. I had the full Scottish breakfast and as I was piling up the sausage, haggis, baked beans, roast potatoes, bacon, mushrooms, and the obligatory HP Sauce onto plate one, I could hear my heart saying something that rhymes with “Oh Clucking Bell!” Funnily enough, it had given up when I got the toast and blackcurrant jam, and the natural Greek yogourt, with cornflakes and red fruit. Gotta stay healthy folks! And Tea. Proper tea. I mean the tea that just gives you a cuddle as you drink it. not this French “infusion” rubbish that looks like something the cat did when it was upset with you. Oh no. None of that. I was home!

Right, now to the geeky bit about what camera I was using. As we only had hand luggage I decided to leave the DSLR at home and only take the Fuji X100F. It’s a great little camera and a joy to shoot with. Between you and me, I actually think it’s my favourite camera. A bit needy in the battery department, if you know what I mean… But I take spares with me.