3 posts tagged “photography”
Thanks to the lovely Lottie, I am now the proud recipient of the world's first crocheted lens cap, pictured complete with attachment loop so it doesn't meet the same fate as its non-crocheted predecessor. Woooooo. Those wanting to follow in my trend-setting footsteps, here's where you find out more. :-) UK orders don't have to go through etsy; drop me a line and I'll hook you up. (That's a crochet pun, btw. Did you see what I did there?)
That's my weekend, in a nutshell. ;-)
John suggested a walk not too long ago, up Kilvey Hill. It took us a few weeks to coincide in the same place and time -- place being the car park at Sainsbury's, time being 10:30 on Saturday morning -- but we made it in the end.
We took a very childlike route to the top; ignoring signs that read 'Private Road', steering warily clear of the barking dogs and trying not to make eye contact or do anything that might provoke them to slavering rage. I snagged the occasional blackberry as we went along, but I'd obviously been beaten to the best of the crop, perhaps by the people whose land we blithely trespassed. Doggy horsey 4x4ey folks, from the obvious clues.
Although it cleared up later, the day started out quite hazy, which is a shame considering the spectacular views from up there. I'd never seen the docks or St. Thomas/Mount Pleasant/Townhill from that perspective before, and it was a real wrench to keep lifting the camera to my eye only to remember that the light was just rubbish and it would be a waste of film to try to capture what I was seeing. Another day, another day. I did take a few pics, though; they will appear in due course. My darkroom is currently moving house, which means there'll be a delay, but the good news is that he's moving closer to where I live, so I may actually be able to begin doing more of my own D&P again. Yay. :-)
John was a very capable guide (he used to do hill and fell running, and had run up Kilvey Hill in the past) and an absolute font of information about Swansea and its history - but I suppose that's only to be expected from an art historian with an interest in industrial and technological revolutions. ;-)
I'm sure Andy will go into detail about the route we took; he is the map lover in the family. I'm okay-ish in an urban landscape, but take me out into the open (even the M4 counts) and I lose orientation completely. I guess it's because I'm lazy - never really learned to navigate using compass points. Back home, it was more in the style of triangulating one's position relative to Sandton City, and the like. Either that, or I am my father's daughter; he could get lost in a car-park. One of my fondest memories of him is the time he phoned home in a panic to say the car had been stolen -- and then phoned back 10 minutes later to say, no, actually, he'd just been looking in the wrong place. Classic.
Gosh, all this, and we're still only half-way through our trip to Kilvey Hill! Anyway, my point was this: at some point Andy went off to scramble down and up a steeper incline than I was willing to brave, and to hunt grasshoppers. Definite childhood moment. (He came close, apparently, but conceded defeat to a worthy opponent.)
We wended our way down, following the contours of the hill, and ended up taking a very direct route to the docks, scrambling down an overgrown verge and then over Fabian Way and slipping past the security, into the docks. There was a fabulous contrast between one side of the water and t'other -- the roadside part was still shabby and rundown, while the SA1 side was newly tarred, and had a shiny safety rail that looked like it would be falling to pieces while its stalwart counterpart still stood.
There were loads of shells on the tarred walkway, and a few crabs legs as well - this quizzed me out until Andy guessed that it was the work of seagulls, using the hard ground as a can opener.
Technically, we weren't really meant to be where we were, so there was another hairy moment when we were approaching our path back on to public land, and a docks security car came speeding up behind us, kicking up a very stereotypical cloud of dust as it did. But John, having done this sort of thing before, led us in a successful exit strategy; assume an air of nonchalance and just keep walking, don't look back.
It worked, and we made it to the Queen's Hotel in time for their heavenly steak-and-ale pie (ignore the Google flag - the pub is that rounded building on the corner with red umbrellas open outside it). Or at least, I did - it was the last bit of pie left, so Andy made do with chilli and half-and-half. Both absolutely delicious and less than £4 for a healthy helping. I'll definitely be eating there again. They also have Theakston's Old Peculier on tap! Rob rolled himself out of bed and down the M4 in time to join us for a long and laid-back lunch -- the best kind after a tiring walk. :-)
On our way there, we bumped into Jonathan John, who I guess could be described as the spiritual leader of the Centre for Greater Self-Awareness, which is very appropriately (I've always thought ) located on Pleasant Street. I hadn't seen him in yonks, so it was great when he agreed to pose for a photograph. In the style of Cecil Beaton, I asked him to say 'Lesbians!'. Jonathan is a very handsome man with stunning smile -- think African king -- and he got his teeth into it, rolling his tongue around the L-word with relish. It was perfect, a celebration, a stunning example of street portraiture -- and I missed it.
Because I'm using Andy's Canon A1 while my camera is out of action, and I'm not yet in the habit of remembering to lock and unlock the thing, which A1 users will know is a crucial step in the taking of photographs with that piece of kit.
I was crushed; I took another shot, but it was nowhere near as good as the one that got away. It will join the album in my head of photographs taken only in my memory. *sigh*
On the subject of cameras though, it's interesting; I was very reluctant to take up Andy's A1. I felt a real intimacy with my puny but reliable Nikon FM10, and for good reason - that baby and I have been together for more than 10 years. But sadly, it took just a few hours of playing with the A1 for me to feel that actually, it wouldn't be that hard to move on. It's got a much broader feature set than the FM10, and excellent bokeh, which makes the simple act of looking through the viewfinder a deeply satisfying experience. I'm loving it. (Curse you McDonald's, for making a standard expression your stupid catchphrase).
We paid a short visit to the Mission Gallery, as we were in the neighbourhood, but alas, they were breaking down the most recent exhibition, so there wasn't that much to see, apart from some interesting ceramics ... something I seem to have developed a liking for, just lately.
After that, it was rush, rush, rush into town on an errand, and then rush, rush, rush to Sketty for the last night of the Proms. It was cold, the music was mostly dull, and after sitting on the ground for 5 hours, my mobile phone decided it had had enough, and pulled its keys inward in a sulk. So now the keys on my (nearly brand new) phone have no more bounce, and I need to send it in for repair. Bleargh. The fireworks were good, though -- but not according to one of the girls there who'd spent the last 3 years living in Japan. ;-)
As if that weren't enough for one day, we then headed over to the House of Geek for t'other Andy's birthday party, where the highlights were the amazingly decadent chocolate cake baked by Jo and the very silly but immensely fun Donkey Konga. You just can't go wrong with a game that uses plastic bongos as an interface.
We called it a day at 4am on Sunday -- and mein gott, I ain't doing that again in a hurry. ;-)
