Monochrome Madness – Page 5 – From Pyrenees to Pennines

The Thames Path: From Canary Wharf to Tower Bridge

I went to London last week. But it wasn’t all about seeing family. I enjoyed a few hours with Sarah of Travel with Me fame, and the day after that, walked part of the Thames Path. This route does exactly what it says, and offers you the chance to walk from where the river rises in the Cotswolds, to where it joins the North Sea: that’s 215 miles. Which must seem pretty small beer to most of you living outside the UK, but it’s our second longest river.

I opted for the stretch between the assertively twentieth century business district of Canary Wharf – along the north side – to Tower Bridge, before returning on the south side. A walk of some eleven miles.

I rather enjoy Canary Wharf. It’s high rise, everywhere. But there are – slightly self-conscious – efforts to make it human-friendly. I found sculpture trails, and massed plantings in an around the various waterways. There are parks, and even mini woodlands with water tumbling about in mini waterways. Even the public toilets are interesting, as my third photo here shows.

But then it’s the Thames Path. And the water’s edge round here means wharfs and warehouses: reminders of a time when London was an epicentre for receiving tobacco, cotton, sugar, coffee, tea, porcelain, silk ….: offering hard and poorly paid labour to thousands in the Docklands and industrial towns throughout England, trade and prosperity to many beyond, and slavery to many of those who produced the goods we were happy to import.

Now these warehouses – handsome buildings – are repurposed, often as sought-after apartments overlooking the Thames. I saw too pillars of rotting wood poking through the foreshore- evidence of once-upon-a time busy jetties and quays. There were even a few mudlarkers: hunters for souvenirs of London’s past as a settlement even back to Bronze age times. And always the contrast between old and new in a single glance.

I arrived at Tower Bridge just in time for a lunch time sandwich. The area is glutted with tourists, but take yourself only a few yards away down the path and you can have a bench with this view all to yourself.

I didn’t stay long near Tower Bridge, built in 1886 or the Tower of London, built in 1066, both log-jammed with visitors. But the contrast between the very old and the extra-new captured in this shot appealed to me.

It was time to head back along the southern shore. This was easier. My morning journey had been hampered by diversions as a giant sewage system was being installed along the route of the path. My return through the evocative-sounding communities, reminiscent of Dickens (Bermondsey, Rotherhithe) was straightforward. It was here that I learnt about Alfred and Ada Salter, both born into relative privilege, who over a hundred years ago, devoted ther lives to alleviating the tough lives of the poor in Bermondsey. Quakers, Alfred was an outstanding doctor who treated poor patients for free and imported into Bermondsey all the latest medical clinics and facilities, creating in miniature an ’NHS before the NHS’. In 1922 Alfred was elected as MP for Bermondsey, representing Labour. Ada devoted her life to the demolition of slum housing. She built a model housing estate at Wilson Grove, campaigned against air pollution as early as 1913, and on the London County Council carried through a programme for the beautification of all of London Borough parks, children’s playgrounds and tree-lined streets. She became the first female Mayor of London – and the first Labour mayor! They insisted on living amongst the poor they devoted their lives to, and in 1910, their only child Joyce died of scarlet fever: a tragedy they never got over. Alfred and Ada earned the unending trust, support and love from the community they devoted their lives to. Somehow though, I only seem to have a photo of the statue of Joyce, playing by the Thames. The Salters were, I think, the kind of couple to gladden the heart of Anabel, The Glasgow Gallivanter.

A little further along is another group: commemorating this time the intrepid band we call the Pilgrim Fathers. They were a group of English separatists – Protestants with extremely severe principles – who in 1620 sailed to America on the Mayflower to establish a colony where they could practice their religious ideas freely. Very bright sunshine made it impossible to photograph them easily, so you’ll have to make do with this one .

As I approached Canary Wharf again from the opposite bank, it suddenly occurred to me there is no bridge there. Aagh. Transport links from this side weren’t ideal for me. Cogitating my conundrum, I noticed signs for a ferry that would do exactly the journey I needed. Here is my saviour ferry boat. But salvation comes at a price. My two minute journey cost over £7.00. The ferry company knows a captive passenger when it sees one.

But I had a day filled with interest and exercise. And a plan. Over my next few visits to London, I’ll be walking the Thames Path. I’ll start from – not the sea itself. That’s too complicated. But at Crayford Ness. It’ll be unlovely: but interesting. From the Thames Barrier at Woolwich I’ll walk the river’s course through London. Using my son’s family’s home as my overnight base, my quest may end as London peters out. But we’ll see … Watch this space.

For Jo’s Monday Walk …

and Leanne’s Monochrome Madness.

Street lights in Spain

For this week’s Monochrome Madness, This week’s host Brian of Bushboy’s World has asked us to consider Street lights. I assembled a clutch of them, and realised that they all come from Spain.

The featured photo was taken one evening near our hotel in Seville. This next batch all come from Cádiz.

… and one of them is merely a shadow of a streetlight.

Off to Málaga now, just after Christmas.

Another one from Seville …

And the city I know best, Barcelona? Well, not a single night time shot. Instead, here are two taken in broad daylight.

I’m away for a few days, so this post, and the next few are scheduled. So – sorry – I may be slow in commenting, and even slower at reading your posts.

Mirror

Today, it’s my turn to offer a theme for Leanne’s Monochrome Madness. And I’ve chosen Mirror.

‘Magic mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?’ So asks the evil queen in the classic 1937 Disney film Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.

I haven’t used my mirror to find the answer to this question, largely because I haven’t got a magic one. But I have found some mirrors in a junk shop in Harrogate, reflecting both some of the goods on offer, and the Victorian street where you’ll find it. In fact the shop window itself serves as an extra mirror.

And here’s another street mirror, helping the motorist out into a busy road. And a car’s passenger-side mirror in Lancashire one winter’s morning.

Let’s default to shop windows as mirrors.

And the Baltic Gallery in Gateshead makes a ceiling into a mirror, while outside the VA in London is one in marble……

Water is an old favourite for a reflective surface. Let’s go to Studley Royal, Seville, a humble puddle in Masham, and the Leeds and Liverpool Canal in Gargrave.

…. and finally, an impromptu wintry lake mirror near home.

Oh, and finally finally, a bit of fun. Two little lambs spotted last week. Using a pre-digital film analogy, one’s a negative of the other. Not quite mirror images, but please don’t quibble when they’re so sweet.

A Monochrome Look Back at Lockdown

Browsing through my photos of five years ago, it was soon clear that they were all local views. Scenes taken during my solo Covid Lockdown wanderings exploring every local path that I knew, and some that I didn’t. We’re limited by having a river near our house, with no local bridge. So instead of having a whole circle of walks at our disposal, it’s only a semi-circle. That didn’t stop me discovering woodland I hadn’t explored, hitherto uninvestigated quarries and farmland, secret tracks near the river. I didn’t always take my camera, because I preferred being ‘in the moment’ as I tried to identify birdsong, enjoying clouds, grasses, emerging blossoms and flowers.

And just one from our village, where families got busy confecting scarecrows celebrating all the keyworkers who kept on working while we all stayed at home.

For Leanne’s Monochrome Madness.

Burgeoning Blooms at Beningbrough

Beningbrough Hall is one of our local stately homes. An English Baroque masterpiece, its real delight lies in strolling round its gardens. Let’s do that now, for Dawn‘s turn as host of Leanne’s Monochrome Madness.

There are tulips …

…. and magnolias …

… and apple and pear blossom …

…. and so much else besides. But I’m keeping it simple today. I may take you back there another day.

Photographing the Photographers

Let’s have a bit of fun this week. Let’s spy on the photographers we spot, and take snaps of them as they do what photographers have to do. The featured photo was taken last summer near Bamburgh. These people with their cameras and all the tackle were actually twitchers, in pursuit of some bird that had fetched up there – I can’t remember what.

Here’s another image from there, and then another, also from Northumberland: the Baltic in Gateshead, where one eager visitor was taking shots of the bridges on the Tyne.

Or there’s that photographer’s paradise, Whitby Goth Weekend.

Or sometimes a TV photographer turns up. Much more impressive.

Or even what passes for film crew, spotted in Brick Lane.

But we’ll end where we began, with shots of photographers being snapped. A friend and I enjoyed playing around with this once-upon-a-time camera shop in Newcastle, and if you look very hard, you’ll see me in the second image, looking for that perfect shot.

For Leanne’s Monochrome Madness.

Night Time

Night photography isn’t really my thing, so Elke, this week’s host for Monochrome Madness, provided me with a real challenge when she proposed Night time as her theme.

Unsurprisingly, towns and cities provided me with a few ideas. Let’s go on a quick tour. Let’s visit Albania, England, Spain, France, South Korea and Poland…

Really though, Country Mouse prefers to dodge big cities. My featured photo is of the moon as darkness fell recently, while the photo below was taken just at the end of the road.

Three – No Four – Vikings I Met Last Month

For this week’s Lens-Artists Challenge, Ritva has chosen to focus on portraits. Difficult. Because it IS difficult, and many of the few I do take are of family, whom I don’t usually feature on my blog. There are the images I secretly take whilst out and about, but few of those quite measure up as portraits so much as someone-doing-something-or-just-walking.

Then I remembered York Viking Festival, which I recently featured on one of my posts. So back we go, to a day when photography was not only permitted, but encouraged.

Tips on how to bump off your enemy, Viking style.

Tips on throwing a clay pot, Viking style.

Tips on working in wood, Viking style.

This last set is for Leanne’s Monochrome Madness, because she invites us to take one photo, and crop it three different ways. So – two solo portraits, one two-handed portrait, all for the price of one shot of a Viking and his slave industriously working together.

Spring in Glorious Technicolor – or Muted Monochrome

Even though over the last few days the weather has reverted to winter chill with a vengeance, I think it’s definitely the week that Spring has Sprung. The daffodils have suddenly burst forth into golden glory. The grass is lusher. Dandelion and daisies crowd the verges. Spring announces itself in an explosion of colour, in contast to the muted browns and greys of winter with its dull skies and overabundance of mud.

So is there even any point in ‘doing’ spring in monochrome? I thought I’d find out, and chose four images where it’s not just spring flowers telling the story, because they’re complementing the buildings they grow near.

Perhaps these aren’t part of the story, because snowdrops show their faces from early January. But they’re white, so may not suffer so much in monochrome.

Primulas on a traffic island near York Minster.

Tulips overlooking Knaresborough Viaduct.

Part of my own difficulty is that I don’t enjoy tinkering with photos. What comes out of the camera either works, or it doesn’t, and then I’ll junk it. At most I’ll level the picture up, maybe lightly crop it, even – slightly – fiddle with brightness. So my translations into monochrome are crude at best. If I want monochrome – and I’m increasingly choosing it over colour – I’ll shoot in black and white. And perhaps follow up with a further version in colour. I admire those photographers who use editing tools with discretion, so what we see is the original shot – just enhanced in subtle ways. I’m less keen on dramatic editing. But in a diary that is already over-full, I guess I don’t feel like giving this particular skill the time it needs to learn to do it well.

I’ll finish with Fountains Abbey as it is now, its grounds carpeted in daffodils. Black and white as my featured photo, and – my much preferred version here – in the above-mentioned Glorious Technicolor.

For Leanne’s Monochrome Madness

Leeds: A Whistlestop Tour

Leeds is a Victorian industrial city that has vigorously embraced the 20th and 21st centuries. We’ll explore a tiny part of the central area, as we did with the London branch of the family at half term.

We’ll start in a modern shopping centre..,

… and wander through the late Victorian covered market, stopping at one of the fish stalls.

The Corn Exchange was built at much the same time as the market, to trade corn. These days it’s the home of independent vendors selling to those looking to while away a pleasant hour or two finding something out of the mainstream.

We’ll wander down some older streets …

… then onto the newly developed banks of the River Aire. Industrial grot has been replaced by both student and up-market flats, and the featured photo shows the view of Leeds old and new. The Royal Armouries Museum was supposed to be our destination, but at half-term it was way too busy, so we didn’t stay long . Here’s a taster, showing that even horses and elephants can get togged up for war, and that swords never seem out of fashion.

Tired now. We’ll wander back along the Aire, spotting a couple of cormorants on the way. That means there must be fish to be had these days. It was a filthy river in the bad old days.

We’ll be back another day. I hardly recognise the city I called home until about twenty five years ago.

For Leanne’s Monochrome Madness