Despite the cold and the catastrophe that is the British Rail network at the moment, I braved the odds and took myself off to London for the day this week.
Amazingly, the trip was an absolute success both because I got to see 3 of the 4 exhibitions I had on my list for this winter and, I didn’t have to stand, bemused and confused, on any train platforms due to ‘unforeseen circumstances’. The grande finale was getting a few night shots on the way back to Charing Cross station along South Bank.
So, totally out of keeping with any of the photography I saw at the Magnum gallery, at the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibition or at the wonderful exhibition of Elton John’s fine, eclectic collection of photographs, here are some of my efforts of the day:
I’ve been wandering around my ‘hood and looking at the decay of the architectural heritage bequeathed us by Decimus Burton and the Victorians. Oh, they did like to be beside the seaside… beside the sea. Ironic that the very cause to instigate such grandeur should also be the cause of its demise – maintaining these weather beaten buildings is a relentless battle that is seemingly being lost at the moment.
I do hope the trees on the South Bank like dressing up – every time I go there, they have a different disguise. At the moment, they are surrounded by bright florescent ribbon to support the Love Festival that is happening at the South Bank Centre.
Yesterday, as a family, we met at the British Film Institute in London’s South Bank to watch the screenings of this years AUB graduate animations. There is always so much to see that I love the walk over the bridge from Charing Cross station.
The Daily Post Photo Challenge is ‘On The Move’ which is great as it gives me an excuse to post 6 images taken when I went off on a day trip to London recently. So. let me show you a story that you’ll all recognise…
Firstly, the excitement of getting to the station in time to get the train you want to take.
Then, killing time because you’ve arrived much too early
Observing the sometimes peculiar behaviour of your fellow travellers.
And, thinking about the lives that play out in the towns that you pass.
And descending into the bowels of the earth to become one of the ‘rat’ race.
Getting lost in the anonymity of the city where everything is a heaving mass – except the busker.
And, back out again, into daylight and (nearly) fresh air.
Despite the cold setting in as the sun started to go down, people where making the most of the day watching the performers, eating or having a drink before turning for home, playing and laughing. There’s always a good atmosphere along this stretch.