NORTHUMBRIAN SUMMER PART IV

Posted on Oct 17, 2025Sep 10, 2025 Posted in Architecture, Art, Black and White Photography, Family Life, History, Reportage, Scotland, Street Photography, The UK Chronicles, Travel photography, United KingdomTagged black and white, Black and White Photography, Catholic faith, childhood memories, creative nonfiction, dog loyalty, Edinburgh Festival, emotional storytelling, everyday magic, family bonding, family travel, fatherhood, geek bar, greyfriars bobby, intergenerational relationships, literary travel, memoir, modern parenting, parenting, personal essay, photographer, presence, quiet moments, Scotland tourism, St Giles Cathedral, Stranger Things, Travel photography, Travel Writing, video games4 Comments

Edinburgh, Scotland 2025

We’re still in Edinburgh. We’re walking down the Royal Mile. It’s festival season. There are plenty of shows to watch, and the one we saw first was by Max Von Trapp. Not to be confused with the Sound of Music Von Trapps, but a comic magician. One of my favourite kinds. The jokes and tricks rolled fast, as did my laughter.. Kate laughs at all the jokes, even the more adult-focused ones, just like Killian did when we visited the festival when he was that age.

Saint Giles was our next stop. As you know, I’m Catholic, not Protestant. As we wandered through the national Cathedral of Scotland, I was struck not only by the beautiful organ music, but by the lack of the familiar Stations of the Cross, the statues. The centre of attention was not the Lord and the sacrifice of the Mass, but the preacher’s pulpit. I felt this lack and prayed my daily Rosary, head bowed in prayer.

I joined Kate outside, slightly perturbed by the experience.

Lunch was a kebab. Simple and delicious. Kate loved it.

It was time to move on to see Greyfriars Bobby, a wee brown dog, famous for his loyalty. The legend is such that the people of Edinburgh raised a statue to honour him, and people rub his nose either for luck or as a sign of affection. I went into the Greyfriars Pub for some Guinness, reflecting on my own dog Molly, now 16, who greets me every morning as if I’m her favourite person and gets all excited when I get home from work. I can see why wee Bobby was a legendary dog, and why he inspired so many people.

We wandered through the graveyard looking at the tombs of the citizens of Edinburgh from the past. And we found a certain Thomas Riddell who JK Rowling used in her books. Kate acquiesced and allowed me to take her photo in front of it.

We ventured towards the Covenanters’ section of the graveyard, supposedly the most haunted section. I felt nothing and saw nothing, but Kate started to have a headache. We paid our respects and decided to find Bobby’s grave at the entrance. Kate noticed the sticks put on his grave, as you might leave a favourite dog toy. She just had to go and find him a suitable stick. Bless that dog. Teaching us a valuable lesson in pure love years after his death.

We ventured back out onto the streets of Edinburgh, leaving the relative tranquility of the graveyard behind us. This was about to be the reason she wanted to come to Edinburgh in the first place: a cocktail bar. But not any ordinary cocktail bar. The Geek Bar, decorated every four months into a new theme. The theme she wanted was from a video game that she plays with Killian. Oh no—they’d changed everything… It was now all about Stranger Things on Netflix—something I had heard by name but knew nothing else about.

Liquor? Maybe quicker, but it’s not something I’m a great fan of. The lady took our order and explained the concept. I felt as if I was in Starbucks for the first time. She asked which flavours I liked, and with her expert help, I made up my mind. The drink was obviously dangerous—too smooth, too sweet—and I couldn’t feel the alcohol. Neither could Kate, who was only allowed a mocktail. I have to be a responsible parent after all. The second round was just as deadly, and I was beginning to feel very happy. I wonder why…

So maybe, at the end of all this, the real magic isn’t in the tricks or the drinks or even the famous city. It’s just—being there. Following your children into their weird, wonderful universes, and watching them set the place on fire with laughter.
And really, what’s better than that?

Back to Hell’s Belz

Posted on Jul 25, 2025Jul 18, 2025 Posted in Family Life, France, ReportageTagged apéro tradition, bilingual families, black sheep of the family, boat schedules, Bretagne tourism, Brittany travel, coastal Bretagne, cochlear implant, CPAP machine forgetfulness, cultural traditions, deafness and technology, familial support, family bonding, family communication, family dynamics, family gatherings, family humor, family jokes, family loyalty, family meals, family roles, France travel tips, french countryside, French family life, French summer traditions, Gisèle’s house, hearing aids, hearing loss, holiday chaos, homemade food, humor in chaos, imperfect moments, Jessica and Xavier, Kir wine cocktail, Loca Loca restaurant, Marina and Vincent, mayonnaise lovers, mother-in-law relationships, navigation challenges, overcoming obstacles, personal narrative, rescue mission, shrimp and potatoes, sleep apnea, storytelling, summer adventures, summer in France, summer rescue mission, travel delays, travel mishaps, travel stories, weekend getaway5 Comments

Welcome back, dear reader, to my world.

Today we will talk about families, food, being a hero, and more family, and kir. I know you can’t wait, so let’s begin.

Arrival in Bretagne

It was early evening and we eventually arrived in Bretagne, feeling very warm, surprisingly peaceful, and ready for whatever the weekend had in store for us. Or so I thought, but more about that later.

We arrived and my mother-in-law was talking to some people with Southern accents. Strange… But I recognised something in the gentleman’s voice. It was Raymond and Sylvie who are friends with Marina, my sister-in-law, and Vincent, her husband. You’re going to meet quite a few members of the family, so try and keep up. Vincent is deaf and has a hearing loss of 94%. Raymond was completely deaf, but had had a cochlear implant and could now hear! Isn’t science amazing. Sylvie is his wife.

L’Apéro – The Social Ritual That Just Happens

As will happen in summer, especially in France, we settled down to have the apéro. What an amazing invention. I have talked about this before, but they just seem to happen and people just know what to do and fit naturally into their respective roles. We talked about our hearing aids, and the difference they made in our lives. And started cracking jokes and basically having a good time. I was on the fizzy mineral water—you never know when you might need a driver.

Crisis Calls – Jessica and Xavier Need Rescue

We were in coastal Bretagne and it was nice to be back seeing Gisèle, my mother-in-law. The conversation was flowing and it was turning out to be a lovely evening. The phone rang. For once, Gisèle heard the phone and answered it. She has hearing problems too. Jessica, my wife’s other sister, and her husband Xavier, had been in La Rochelle and had taken a coach to get back home. That coach was late, and the boat back had stopped running. Ian to the rescue.

Xavier and I are the black sheep of the family, and get the most criticism. Xavier, because he is Xavier, and me because I’m not French. After 30 years we have become accustomed to our rôles and are secretly proud of it.

To the Rescue – Loca Loca Restaurant, Here We Come

I reminded my mother-in-law how shitty it can be when a plan, well, doesn’t go to plan—even more so when it’s not your fault. I said, right, let’s get in the car and go and get them. My mother-in-law would be the navigator. She asked if my car was a new car. I wasn’t, but it would be nice if it were. And wasn’t it far to drive? No, it wasn’t. She would have told them to stay the night with their son. True, but isn’t it nice, at the end of a long day of plans going wrong, to have something that goes right? It’s good to be good, etc.

Embrassades and Bises – Reunited at Last

We arrived at the station and couldn’t find each other. Gisèle was starting to get worked up, and I just calmed the situation down. Jess, you where? OK. I don’t know how to get there but I saw the Loca Loca restaurant. Can you both go there? They could. I drove round the block and I’m not sure whether where I parked was legal, but no flying farts were given, and that would be where I would be parking to pick them up. Embrassades and the famous “bise” and let’s get that case into the boot. Try and find a place on the back seat. They found a place on the back seat. And back to Belz to get them home. Yes, it’s good being good.

Kir, Shrimps, and a Forgotten CPAP Machine

Gisèle and I got back to her house, and the Kir was flowing and now it was my turn to have a few. Very nice it was too. We talked, talked, and talked some more, and Raymond went back to Sylvie and Gisèle, my wife and I decided to eat. Shrimps, homemade mayonnaise, and boiled potatoes. Simple, and wonderful!

We were to sleep in the bureau. My wife was upset at me because I had forgotten my CPAP machine. I would just go to sleep and enjoy the night… Tomorrow would be another day, full of adventure. Well, everything is relative I suppose. I will see you, Dear Reader, tomorrow…

Happy Not Dead Day 2024

Posted on Feb 2, 2024Jan 31, 2024 Posted in Family Life, UncategorizedTagged Adult Birthdays, Appreciation, Begrudgingly Accepted, Birthday Cakes, Birthday Celebrations, Birthday Craze, Birthday Evolution, Birthday Gratitude, Birthday Memories, Birthday Nostalgia, Birthday Reflections, Birthday Traditions, Bittersweet Journey, Cherished Memories, Childhood Birthdays, confession, Culinary Transformation, Deeper Exploration, Enduring Power of Family and Love, Engaging and Humorous, Exhaustion, family, Family Birthdays, family bonding, Folles Journées, Forced Fun, France, Growing Older, Heartwarming Conversations, Humor, Humorous Perspective, Ian Myers, ijm photography, Immersive Engagement, Insights on Changing Nature of Birthdays, Intimate Gatherings, Introspection, Journal Writing, Life Journey, love, mass, Mixed Emotions, Monday Morning, nostalgia, Personal Experiences, photographer, photography, Relatable Anecdotes, Saint Nazaire, Self-Deprecation, Shared Meals, Specific Details, Sprinkle of Fondness, Strong Narrative Voice, Teenage Birthdays, Thornton's Toffees, Thoughtful Conclusion, Thoughtful Insights, Unexpected Turns, Vivid Language, Well-StructuredLeave a comment

As the years go by, birthdays become less about childish excitement and more about a blend of nostalgia, forced fun, and a dash of introspection. My recent birthday weekend was a testament to this bittersweet evolution, a journey that took me from childhood memories to present-day, all while grappling with my inner aversion to “my” birthday celebrations.

A Childhood of Festive Delights

I’m still not good with birthdays. After 52 of them they have turned from an exciting day with wonderful birthday parties organised by my mother and Aunty Colette helping out, with a homemade and home decorated cake, various bottles of pop, and hula-hoop crisps. This was the 1970’s after all.

Adolescence: A Shift in Celebrations

In the 1980’s this evolved into being asked what kind of cake I wanted by Matron, choce of fruit or chocolate, that would be shared amongst all the boys at school, and receiving Thornton’s toffees sent in a parcel by my grandmother, to going out to the cinema with a friend, and getting run over crossing the street, but thankfully not injured, to preparing a dinner for friends.

France: Embracing a New Cultural Tradition

Everything changed when I moved to France in the 1990’s. Birthday celebrations evolved from lively parties to intimate gatherings amidst friends, where the focus shifted from just cake to the simplicity of shared meals and heartwarming conversations.

The Familiarity of Family Gatherings

The 2000s and 2010s saw a familiar rhythm to my birthday celebrations, with the occasional variation in cake flavours and dining arrangements. However, the arrival of my own children introduced a new dimension, as they now eagerly embrace the role of party planners, injecting their unique energy and enthusiasm into my special day.

A Begrudgingly Enjoyable Birthday Celebration

My most recent birthday weekend was a testament to the bittersweet blend of forced fun and begrudging acceptance. Friday night found me in my favorite pub, sharing stories and laughter with my son, an attempt to appease his desire to celebrate. Saturday was a day of family bonding, as I took my daughter and her boyfriend into town, dropped them off, went throught two rolls of film, and then enjoyed a quiet evening at home cooking with my son.

In between indulging in my passion for photography, capturing fleeting moments of joy amidst the forced festivities. I also sought a moment of reflection during confession, seeking solace amidst the overwhelming attention. The night ended with a hearty meal prepared with my son, a small act of rebellion against the excessive birthday fanfare.

Sunday dawned early, as I embarked on a day of exploration, venturing to Saint Nazaire for an early 6am start and performance at the Folles Journées, a celebration of clasical music. The day concluded with a heartfelt moment at mass, surrounded by the love of my family.

Monday Morning: A Gratitude for the Past and a Renewed Perspective

As Monday morning approached, I carried a mix of emotions – the warmth of cherished memories, the exhaustion of forced celebrations, and a growing appreciation for the love and attention from my children. I was ready to face the workweek, armed with the knowledge that birthdays, despite their uncomfortable nature, could be occasions for reflection, connection, and a touch of forced fun.

Older and Wiser, Yet Still a Grouch

Do I feel older and wiser? Definitely the former, and to some small extent, the latter. Children, and especially older children, have this uncanny way of reminding you that you are evolving, despite loving every bit of you. It’s a humbling experience, and at the same time a display of love. I am veritably lucky to have them.

As I write this, a part of me still cringes at the thought of birthdays, but another part cherishes the memories they create and the love they represent. So, while I may never fully embrace the birthday craze, I’ll continue to participate, albeit with a touch of begrudging acceptance and a sprinkle of nostalgic fondness. After all, birthdays, like life itself, are a journey of mixed emotions, unexpected turns, and the enduring power of family and love.

Happy “Not Dead Yet” day to me! Still there to annoy the shit out of you, be really foul mouthed, and be completely inappropriate with everyone…
But I do love you all! Some of you I even like!
My Facebook

A Peaceful Stroll Through Jardin de Plantes

Posted on Sep 8, 2023Jun 20, 2024 Posted in Art, Black and White Photography, Film Photography, France, Nantes PhotographyTagged analog photography, artistic expression, artistic integration, artistic wonders, capturing ambiance, capturing emotions, capturing memories, capturing moments, capturing urban nature, classic film camera, classic photography, creative exploration, family bonding, Film Photography, hidden beauty, Jardin de Plantes, Kentmere 100 film, Nantes, nature and art, nostalgia in photography, nostalgic photography, peaceful escape, Pentax ME SUper, photo walk, photography adventure, preserving memories, serenity in the city, timeless charm, timeless moments, tranquility, tranquility in chaos, urban oasis, urban tranquility, vintage camera, vintage charm, Voyage à nantesLeave a comment

In the heart of Nantes, a city bustling with life and movement, lies a haven of tranquilly—the Jardin de Plantes. With my trusty Pentax ME Super in hand and a roll of Kentmere 100 film, I embarked on a photo walk with my niece, weaving together the threads of modernity and nostalgia.

As the sun cast its gentle rays on the vibrant petals and verdant foliage, my niece and I strolled through the garden, our spirits lifted by the scent of blooming flowers and the melody of chirping birds. The Pentax ME Super, a relic of a bygone era, clicked and whirred, capturing the essence of the ambiance around us.

In the heart of this botanical wonderland, a delightful surprise awaited us – artworks from the Voyage à Nantes, seamlessly integrated into the landscape. Sculptures and installations whispered tales of creativity, adding an artistic flair to the already enchanting scenery. With each click of the shutter, the Kentmere 100 film immortalised these moments, creating a bridge between the past and the present.

Amidst the garden’s serenity, the city’s rhythm seemed to fade into the background. The laughter of children echoed, the fragrance of earth danced in the air, and a sense of peace enveloped us. The bustling streets felt miles away, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the soothing trickle of fountains. It was a moment to pause, to breathe, and to find solace in the embrace of nature.

As my niece marvelled at the artistic wonders and explored every nook and cranny, I couldn’t help but recall a time when the world seemed simpler, captured through the lens of vintage cameras. The Pentax ME Super, a faithful companion, clicked away, a reminder that while times change, the emotions and memories we capture remain timeless.

In the heart of the garden, as my niece’s wonder met my own nostalgia, I realised that these fleeting moments, captured on film, became whispers of timelessness. The Kentmere 100 film transformed scenes into memories, the Pentax ME Super gave them life, and the Jardin de Plantes offered its serene backdrop.

Our visit came to an end, and the laughter and footsteps of visitors began to fade, leaving behind a quietude that felt like a hidden treasure. With a final click, I knew that I had captured not just images, but fragments of serenity and beauty, framed by the lens of a camera that has witnessed decades.

The Jardin de Plantes, a breath of fresh air in the heart of a bustling city, became a canvas on which moments of joy, peace, and art intertwined. The Kentmere 100 film told their story, the Pentax ME Super etched them onto film, and I, a mere observer, was fortunate to be a part of this beautiful narrative.

In the end, it’s the ability to capture the ephemeral that gives photography its magic. It’s not just about freezing time but about encapsulating emotions that stand the test of time. As I looked at the photographs that adorned my album, I knew that every click was a brushstroke on the canvas of memory— a reminder of the day my niece and I discovered the beauty of the Jardin de Plantes and the timeless charm of classic photography.