Me 'olidays. Ah well, Britain will have to do!

Me. In Cumbria. Atop a hill. With a view.
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Copyright 2009 Paul R Davey. All rights reserved

For an extremely top secret reason, I am unable to travel to distant shores for me 'olidays. I consider this to be a major pain in the backside because I really do want to go to some places, far, far away for some very special reasons. Instead, I have to stay here in Blighty and make do.

That exciting aroma of Costa Coffee and jet fuel that permeates airports is for me, not a sign that I'm going away, but that I'm either fetching or dropping someone off at the airport. Its the smell of other peoples' fun and I find it makes me mildly depressed. For a maximum of three minutes.

You see, I have to forgo the sheer luxury of shuffling slowly along some pointless queue amongst the "other people" at Gatwick or Stanstead. I have to do without sitting next to Ms Halitosis and her 'ubby, Mr Tattoos on an Easy Jet flight to Malaga. (Why do these people always try to look like anxious, high level business travellers, despite their bizzarre holiday clothes, always checking their watches and making mobile calls as they pace about like Donald Trump as his empire comes crashing down? Kevin, you're not fooling me. I can see you're just a low level sales rep, a denizen of a thousand Travel Lodges, not Alan Bluddy Sugar!) I can't share in the collective pleasure with my fellow travellers as they listen to yet another flight delayed announcement. No, I have to stay here. In the dreadful Britain that they seem so keen to escape. Several times a year.

The Descent.
Kirkstone Pass, descending to Ullswater, Cumbria
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Copyright 2009 Paul R Davey. All rights reserved

Yes, I have to suffer the sights of Britain. In Britain, whilst they, the lucky (?) travellers, get to suffer the British in Spain/Greece/Portugal/wherever. Just like the Brits that travel abroad, I too can drink a pint in the Red Lion/Hearty Gardener/Jolly Farmer/Whatever. The difference is, that my Red Lion is a nice, quiet pub in a gorgeous, stream braided scenic valley, full of nice, interesting people quietly discussing the next mountain walking trip, the best hiking boots or the latest Shimano mountain bike groupset. They are, you see, my kind of people. In my kind of pub. In Britain, near a mountain. And a river. And a beautiful view.

Ullswater, Cumbria
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Copyright 2009 Paul R Davey. All rights reserved

A thousand or more miles away, other Brits are in their Red Lion in Benidorm watching Ms Halitosis and Mr Tattoo having a foul-mouthed, tobacco-and-boozed-breathed knock-down, drag-out barney whilst their putrid offspring are trying to drown the rather bookish child of a couple who are on one of those hideous "Holiday Swap" programmes. (No, Mr TV producer, Holiday Swap programmes are not "an interesting insight into the human condition". They are the lazy-minded, slackjawed spawn of creatively barren minds for the lazy-minded and intellectually barren... oh shit, I'm ranting).

Martindale, Near Ullswater, Cumbria
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Copyright 2009 Paul R Davey. All rights reserved

I used to resent not being able to go away and to be fair, still do wish to go to places like Morocco, Nepal, and Alaska as well as some VERY remote places which will remain a secret. I would never sign up to one of the revolting package deals in "Spine" that so seem to attract the "other people". Not even in my worst nightmare. You see, I have at last, after nine years living here, discovered BRITAIN! And it is bloody amazing!

Stone Bridge, Cumbria
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Copyright 2009 Paul R Davey. All rights reserved

In the last few weeks I have been fortunate enough to have had two short holidays both in spectacular locations. I went to Pembrokeshire in Wales and I've just returned from the Lake District in Cumbria. Both places are fascinating and absolutely stunning in terms of the scenery. As a photographer, I can honestly say that I was spoiled for choices of where next to point my camera. Its easy to take great photographs (if I say so myself) in these places. The light angle is low-ish all day and its quality is superb - it gives everything a slightly too-saturated look, but when it comes to processing the images, only the very slightest of tweaks are necessary to make the photographs really sing.

Martindale Stream, Cumbria
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Copyright 2009 Paul R Davey. All rights reserved

And then there's the people. They are fantastic! Let me tell you about parking in Tenby in Wales: Me and my lovely Anna needed to go shopping so we pulled into a parking garage. I got out the car to do the pay and display ritual and Anna decided to ask the car park attendant lady for directions to the shops. Well, the car park attendant lady was just beginning to write out a ticket for a car that had overstayed its welcome. She told Anna that she "felt a bit guilty" because she didn't like issuing tickets to people who were there on holiday - "they might not return"!!! The overstayer by the way, had been given an hour's grace! For a Londoner, for that is what I am these days, this was madness! Unbelievable.! Hell, in London the parking attendants would happily stand in the middle of the M25 in fast flowing traffic (okay, fast flowing is somewhat unlikely, but stay with me on this one) if they thought they could slap a ticket on a windscreen.

Post Box and Daffodils, Cumbria
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Copyright 2009 Paul R Davey. All rights reserved

Yes, outside of London - the Cotswolds, Wales or Cumbria, the people are warm, kind and welcoming. And the beauty of it all is that those who aren't warm, kind and welcoming are usually plastered to a bar stool, getting dribbling-drunk in the Red Lion in Torremolinos, in the company of others of similar stripe. Bargain!

Living here in the UK we tend to forget that we live in one of the world's great tourist attractions. Our Islands are in fact one giant and spectacular natural theme park where stupendous scenery makes up the backdrop against which architecture, art and cultural diversity are harmoniously blended with wonderful, sometimes mystifying traditions and colourful, kind, interesting people. If people from all over the world fly in here every day, there must be something worth seeing. And there is. I spoke to so many people in Cumbria (we were at a wedding) who said that they'd never been there before. Many of them my age or even older and had lived all their lives in the UK.

Ullswater and the Road to Martindale, Cumbria
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Copyright 2009 Paul R Davey. All rights reserved

People here complain about the prices of holidaying in the UK. But how can you complain about the prices of the priceless? Britain is accessible. There is something for all budgets, but I'd like that to be kept secret. You see, I want Ms Halitosis and Mr Tattoo to keep going to Spine. That is where they belong, not here in this beautiful, lyrical place that so effortlessly coaxes out the poet in your soul; that so cleverly steals your heart and makes you at least for a few days, hers and hers alone!

Kirkstone Pass, Cumbria
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Copyright 2009 Paul R Davey. All rights reserved

I feel I may have made some generalisations about people. Oh dear!

Copyright © 2009 Paul R Davey. All photographs, text and artworks in this portfolio are copyrighted and owned by the artist, Paul R Davey unless otherwise stated. Any reproduction, modification, publication, transmission, transfer, or exploitation of any of the content, for personal or commercial use, whether in whole or in part, without written permission from the artist is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

Please Note: I actively pursue those who steal my work . If you want to use any of my images or writing for any purpose, please ask first and thus avoid any massive lawsuits that will beggar you, your children, their children and their childrens' as yet unborn children. If I can't get rich selling my work, I sure as hell can by suing those who chose to steal it!

The Ghosts in the Tunnel, the Poet and the Boxer

Self Portrait
A shot of my shadow, tweaked in Lightroom and Photoshop. Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

Sunday was one of those perfect winter days when the sky is crystal clear and the deepest possible blue, especially in the north. It was cold, so suited and booted in my arctic gear, (that's my normal clothes with an extra jersey) I decided to pop out for a day's shooting.

The plan was to head for Hackney Wick which looked splendidly grungy when I passed through on Saturday on my way to a client shoot. However, the North London Overground line was not operating so I headed by bus for Baker Street where I then picked up the Jubilee Line for Stratford. At the last minute however, I decided to get off at Greenwich North (North Greenwich?), the stop for the O2 Dome.

Skip.
Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

I thought it would be cool to walk back up river, photographing whatever came my way. So that's what I did.

The Thames turns through almost 180 degrees, wrapping round the dome before heading down to the barrier and and beyond. I started on the east side of the arc and wandered round towards the west. The tide was out and there was not a breath of wind. The foreshore looked very inviting, with streams of water meandering through exposed sandbanks where gulls picked through the debris for tasty morsels. The light was silvery and I felt immensely happy just to be there.

Wave Dance
I like exposing for harsh highlights, almost killing the other tones.
It strips the image of unnecessary detail and allows simple visual purity. Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

For whatever reasons, I very often find myself alone. I tend to do so many things on my own and have, to be honest, often felt lonely. However, I have come to value my time on my own. I set the pace. I set the topic. I do what I want. And, you know what? I quite like having myself for company. I can, if I choose, spend ages in one place fiddling with lenses, composition etc without worrying about whether I'm boring anyone who is in my company. It allows me to be a photographer rather than a companion. It allows me to focus ('scuse the pun) on each image; to distill what I see in the viewfinder. To take my time - although I still think I rush my photographs. No, I know I rush them.

Couple.
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Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

Continuing round the Dome, I was stopped by two ladies. They had been peering through the security fencing into the Dome and were I could tell, pretty fascinated. They asked me if I knew what entrance the stars used. "I have no idea", I replied. "I presume they come by bus". They looked a little taken aback at this and one said "Oh don't be silly!"

"Tour Bus", I replied. "Or Limo"

"Ohhhh! Do you know what entrance they use?"

"No Idea. Who are you wanting to see?"

"Barry Manilow." (they said this in unison). I smirked.

"We've seen him on all three nights, but whenever we go to see him, we like to wave him off at the end."

Fans. Gotta love 'em.

Rope.
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Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

Continuing along the river, I came to a slipway covered in frosty driftwood and slippery green algae, leading to the river's foreshore. I skied/skated down the concrete ramp and the picked my way through the debris and finally made it to the 'beach'. The low angle light and the textures of the sand, the pebbles, boulder and the debris were all in perfect combination and I spent a while there, taking less shots than I should have.

The Thames Path then continued upstream through some derelict docks (well, construction sites now) with Canary wharf slightly obscured by haze on the other side of the river. I noted that many of the puddles still had a thin layer of ice on them (it was getting on for 2pm) and that there were the occasional bits of black ice on the pavement. I was wearing my expensive (75 quid) "UK Running" cross country running (no, I don't) shoes which, naturally, have bugger-all grip. (Quick! Call the Design Police!!!) Fortunately, I managed to beat Gravity & Slippery 1-0.

Concrete.
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Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

As I got nearer Greenwich the riverside becomes more industrial and the Thames path passes large grain elevator (or sugar?) past what I think might be a Tate & Lyle factory. There were several fine opportunities to shoot nice 'industrial decay' type shots which I grabbed with both hands. Eventually the path ended up at the Cutty Sark, which I just managed to avoid going into, lured as I was by the smell of hot chips... The sun was getting low and across the river, Canary Wharf was shining like burnished gold. Once again, as I have previously done, I radically underexposed and got a pretty dramatic shot of Docklands.

Cormorant.
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Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

Ballast Quay.
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Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

Anxious to find a Nurofen purveyor, I decided to cross the river via the Greenwich foot tunnel and then take the DLR to the Land of Plenty. Once inside the tunnel, I knew it was essential that I took some photographs, so I had a bit of a play with time exposures and post-sync flash, getting some nice, ghostly images of people walking towards me.

Ghosts in Greenwich Foot Tunnel.

Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

Took the DLR from Island Gardens to Shadwell. It was packed and I stood amongst a bushel of New Zealand kids on a school trip, listening to them discussing the names of various stops on the line: Mudchute, Heron Quays etc. Quite amusing. The teachers chaperoning them looked exhausted.

I Got off the DLR and walked through the sunset towards The Captain Kidd to meet my buddy Ian for a small pint of fizzy beer. On the way I got in some fine shots of vapour trails scratched across the sky, lit by the last rays of the sun.

Vapour.
Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

On arriving at the Captain Kidd, I saw a large table at which was seated only one man, so I chose that to dump my gear on and to strip down and pack away my camera. The gentleman sitting there was very friendly (and a bit pissed) and we struck up a conversation. He was, it turned out, a commercial eel fisherman - an Eeler - who fished the river from Tower Bridge all the way down to the barrier. Now that was enough for me. I was fascinated immediately. I asked him if I can accompany him when he goes eeling and he said any time.

Bruce Pope.
Bruce is a poet,. And he catches eels for a living. Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

He 's a fascinating character. Apart from being an eel catching person, he's a poet, a painter and a sculptor too. Amazing! I'd say something and he'd reply with poetry. Proper poetry, not just rhyming words. He thinks in poems. And he wrote me a poem too, in his lovely semi calligraphic long hand.

His name is Bruce Pope and he is a fine person! The kind of person I always hope I will meet.

With my head ramping up for a mighty headache, I thought it best that I get on my way home and so headed for Tower Bridge tube station. Unable to resist, I diverted the quay where I photographed the benches a few weeks back. There was a dude shadow boxing. So I shot him. With my camera. He was a Lithuanian and was training for a tournament. He told me his name, but its slipped my mind.

Boxer.
Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.

Passing through St Katherine's Dock I got a few time exposures of Tower Bridge and the river before being overcome by my need to find Nurofen. I'd left it too late. The headache arrived with suitable fanfare and I spent a grim (KIP 7-8) journey on the tube to Embankment where I got off to try and find an open chemist. No such luck. I got on the Bakerloo and headed for Queens Park where I managed to find a corner shop that actually sold the Migraine Strength Nurofen, that I MUST take every four hours. I nearly wept with relief.

How Bright the Light?

How Bright the light?
The glow that has no flame,
The colours yet,
That have no name
Where rigid mode
Yet still it will remain

Bruce Pope

Photograph Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative. All rights reserved.
Poem by kind permission of Bruce Pope, Copyright Bruce Pope 2008

Oh, did I tell you I got a new battery (£69.99) for my camera? It lasted the whole day. Bee-yoo-ti-ful!

Quite a day...

I've not been sleeping much of late. Mr Heartburn ensures that, ably assisted by Mr Headache and the rather irritating Ms Worry. So I was up by five this Sunday morning. Bloody freezing.

Skips and Drips.
Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative.

Directed by Chloe, the cat I made myself some coffee and put down a dish of food for her to ignore, then sat down to write my blog of yesterday's shoot. It seems this blog is more about the missions I go on with my camera than its original purpose, erudite (tongue snug in cheek) discussion of small business marketing and design. No matter. I like photography and I like design and marketing. It just so happens that I have more to say about photographs right now.

Moorhens and Stipes.
Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative.

So yes. I was up early, it was cold. Very cold. In fact as dawn broke, I looked outside and it was snowing - not much, just a little. Then it started raining. Quite a lot. Somewhere around nine my lovely other half got up and decided she wanted me to dig up some photographs that we could print and get framed. Disaster. I have buggered up my database of images. Something to fix when I can be arsed.

After messing around trying to locate the images, I looked outside and noticed that summer was back. Well, so it seemed, and because I was hyper grumpy, I decided to go for a walk forthwith! I'm glad I did.

As I often do, I set off through St Mary's Catholic Cemetary towards Scrubbs Lane and then through the industrial estate past Car Giant . I noticed the Brent council parking attendants ruining peoples' weekends, ticketing cars parked on the single yellow line. I mean, come on! Its Sunday! I can categorically state that the illegally parked cars were not creating a hazard, nor were they causing congestion. Revenue-raising swine.

Storm Approaching.
How much more stripped down do you want your photographs?
Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative.

When I'm on a shoot, I often feel like a hunter. There are so many similarities. Observation is key. Everything deserves scuitiny. My eyes dart around looking for targets. I suddenly stop and stare and may even raise my camera to my eye to better see my quarry. And yes, I sometimes get down on hands and knees, scrabbling forward or sideways to get the best framing position. People stop and stare. I'm used to it. I'd rather be a bit embarrassed about the scene I'm making to get my shot than to not get the shot or even worse, get a mundane shot of the same subject.

Railway Bridge Reflected.
This shot is of a bridge reflected in wooden hoardings painted with dark blue gloss.
Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative.

Today I was stared at by people as I photographed a wooden hoarding around a construction site; to them, just a piece of painted wood (dark, dark blue), to me, a series of warped reflecting panels delivering a superb abstract of a railway bridge.

I eventually made it down to the Grand Union Canal, intending to go as far as where the canal crosses about 60 feet up, over the North Circular. However, the towpath was cordoned off so I diverted through Willesden and then Harlesden, seeking out urban decay, irony and abstracts.

Prepare to Meet Thy God. Harlesden
Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative.

The weather was showing signs of deterioration, but the strong, low, early afternoon sun was doing a fine job of lighting the foreground with dramatic storm clouds off to the north. Nice, golden light. Yummy. I wandered back in the direction from where I had come through the Park Royal industrial estates and came across The Old Torpedo Factory.

The Old Torpedo Factory, Park Royal
Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative.

Eventually, I picked up the canal towpath I had used outbound earlier in the day and strolled back towards the direction of home, keeping an eye on the cloud/sun combination in the west and the very dark clouds massing in the North. I was well rewarded with some mega-dramatic light. Which meant it was time for my camera battery to die. Fortunately, using tricks discussed before, I managed to eke out the last few shots as the rain started to fall and the magic light was obliterated by the rain.

The Yellow Pole and the Approaching Storm. Car Giant, Willesden.

Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative.

The wind and rain picked up sufficiently to destroy my brand new Evening Standard umbrella within a minute of popping its cherry, forcing me to seek shelter in various doorways and rain shadows cast by buildings... But it was worth it. Dig the rest of the photographs.

Its been a busy week

This week has been one of those nose-to-the-grindstone weeks. I am blessed with a rather full workload and am really beginning to feel like I could use a second pair of hands/eyes/talent to help me keep up - and to help me to continue delivering better and better creative to my clients.

Blue Spikes

What work have I got on? Well, lets see: A website, brochures and photography for a security and facilities management firm. Poster, packaging and other bits and pieces for my fine Chinese Food delivery client. Case study photography in Warwick for my very loyal client, CPIO. Ongoing brand identity work for a retail start-up in Cobham - everything from the logo through to the packaging, signage, shop colour scheme and vouchers. I also have an ongoing saga job tweaking a logo that requires, in my client's view, ever more tweaking, even when it looked its best at draft 1 stage. As usual.

Again, I have been greedily hoovering up photographs when I do my compulsory daily walk. Many are of the same things I have shot before, but with different light or another lens, the fast-changing seasonal vegetation etc all offer up quite an interesting diversity of images despite the 'sameness'.

Jah Man!

I'm hoping tomorrow to get some more pics (weather permitting) down near London City Airport. There are some fine derelict buildings and wastegrounds. I feel a real need to shoot the ugly stuff - there's more character in it. I want to go and take pictures where the possibility of being mugged is very real. Or being stuck thigh deep in the mud as the tide floods back in (umm on second thoughts...) I need to feel that there is some degree of risk involved - it will work its way into the images.

The Pigeon Gang's hangout. Same shot as this, just wider and on another day with different weather and lighting conditions. I used my 15 - 30 lens and pumped the blue saturation in Lightroom. I love the simplicity of this image.

For me, its obvious: the best photographs are the ones I've worked hardest for. I've gotten up at 3am on countless mornings and traveled miles to get the early dawn light. I've stood chest deep in the Thames at 7am on a cold, late September morning in Henley, photographing rowers - watched from the shore by a mystified pair of policemen wondering whether to arrest me, to call the men in white coats or to leave me be. They left me be in the end.

Mitre Bridge, The Underbelly. I so dig rivets. They give such an 'engineered' look to steel structures. Welding has sapped the character away from engineering. Next I'll be bitching about how digital has sapped the character from photography (it hasn't). Progress.

So yes, tomorrow I'm going to be a bit edgy. A bit out there. Whoa!

Wanna see more photographs? Visit my website.

Shameful

Another Saturday and another walk with my camera: I set off much later than I intended to thanks to a hangover that interfered with the fairly simple design job that I had to do for a client. I then decided I’d mark up a website design that I’d done and now thoroughly late, realized that my phone’s battery was just about flat and had to be charged.

Eventually I managed to set off down the Bakerloo Line to Embankment, intending then to take the circle line to Tower Hill to meet Ian and go to the fine craft butcher he’s discovered in the area. Well, after waiting for a Circle line tube and not even attempting to board the packed train, I decided to walk along Embankment to meet Ian and his girlfriend who were walking back from Docklands. Needless to say, I started dawdling stopping to take pictures.

Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative

It was one of those walks when I just didn’t quite manage to get anything good. The weather was okay – and there was a time when some dramatic clouds were looming over west London, but I wasn’t in the right place. I took a couple of pictures anyway but they don’t have much merit.

Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative

I need to go somewhere more gnarly. I think the River Lea might be calling – and I definitely want to shoot the old Lesney Products (Matchbox cars) factory by the canal. But I think mainly that I want a break from shooting famous landmarks. Yesterday I found an interesting shot at Tower Bridge, shooting through a tunnel onto the river.

Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative

No doubt I was the thousandth person that day to do the shot, but the light was good for me and I thought I’d try and “make a photograph” rather than snapping a picture. Stupid move. The minute I put my tripod down and started setting up everyone else seemed to think it would be a great place to take a picture. It pissed me off. I was jostled, and had my personal space invaded. Most of all though, I’d been idiotic enough to think I was “being original”. Clearly I wasn’t. Or maybe it was my tripod, camera bag flashgun and big fat 15-35 mm lens that marked me out as a pro and therefore worthy of emulation? I don’t know but I spent this morning on DP Review checking out Canon’s Powershot G10, a delicious little unobtrusive pocket sized camera.

Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative

One of the highlights of the walk was seeing Will, a Thames Sailing barge motoring out through the lock at St Katherine’s dock. It was one of those wrong-lens-on-the-camera moments, but I cracked off a couple of shots – unfortunately there was a bloody great hotel casting its shadow over the grand old barge.

Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative

When I eventually got to Ian’s place (he’d already gone to the butcher) I did some swift and decisive damage to some beers, some wine and some cider. And one of the finest legs of lamb I have ever eaten. Mary, it sucks to be you, but your little lamb was delicious!

Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative

Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative

Copyright 2008 Paul Davey Creative

Ian is an excellent cook. By that I mean properly outstanding. And he also has a fine music collection. We listened to James, Had a fairly long Pink Floyd episode (Dark side of the Moon and Animals) and then too full and too pissed I wandered off to get the tube home. And that’s when things begun to unravel.

My son. He is chaos personified and has on numerous occasions come to my home to pick up his phone charger. And has always forgotten to take it with him. But he’d phoned when I was in town urgently needing it so he could arrange meeting his bandmates for their US Embassy interview (They are off on a US tour). Anyway, I got home, drunk as a lord and then decided It would be both kind and clever to take the phone charger to my first born at The Regent where he works behind the bar. Why?

To cut a long story short, a couple of pints, a tequila (which I cannot stand) and a shot of Sambuca (euuuuurgh!) later I was tattered. But I do recall this even more trashed woman who sat next to me and ordered a pint. I was amused to note that when she took a sip, her decidedly beaky nose dipped into her beer. She then spoke to me thus: “Bwab-bbblurrrrb bzzzp bammmmp”. I was transfixed! Not so much by her fluent use of drunkspeak, but by the fact that the tip of her nose was decorated with beer foam. Special.

Fortunately I was prevented from having any more to drink by the closure of the bar and I somehow made it home…

Shameful behaviour!

A short walk...

To see a bigger selection of images click here.

Yesterday, being both sunny and Sunday, I elected to take my camera and myself for a walk around Wapping, an area of cobbled streets and old converted warehouses, riverside apartments and Thameside lovliness that I rather like.

I got there (well, to Tower Hill tube station) around two-ish and doing my best not to look like a tourist fought my way through the crowds past The Tower of London to St Katherine's Dock. I love that place; the absurdity of boats in the middle of a city still excites me - although not enough on this occasion to switch my camera on. Naturally, I went to have a look at the two magnificent Dutch barges moored there. I am obsessed by Dutch barges. I heart them big time and will one day have one to cruise the canal systems of Europe.

Carrying on, I wandered down Wapping High Street and started shooting the things that interest me; little passages leading to the river, the river itself, yellowing leaves against the crystalline blue sky juxtaposed with old Wapping warehouses...

Not the greatest pic, I grant you, but I love the colour of those leaves.

And now a short rant: There is a law, I believe, that any new development along the Thames MUST allow public access along the river. Why then, do various developments have the walkways but block access to the public. Its not bloody good enough and it must stop. Give us OUR river!!! No doubt they do this because there may have been in the past, incidents of petty vandalism. Well, I am going petty vandalise your bloody locked gates with an angle grinder!

Back to my walk: I carried on walking where posssible, alonside the river and shooting pics greedily. There was a bunch of sea kayakers paddling out with the tide, enjoying the waves and the wakes of the Thames Clippers.

Its hard to imagine a better way to spend an afternoon than paddling down the Thames on an outgoing tide. I miss my sea kayaks.

There were open RIBs full of tourists smashing across waves - plenty of into-the-sun shots and there was a flourescent green football that seemed to keep me company bobbing alongside. I took a quick shufti around Limehouse basin - pleasant but always in my mind, a bit of a wannabe compared to St Kath's. Knocked off a couple of shots of reflections (I'm building a reflections library) and then carried on down the river to docklands.

There is something special about Docklands on a Sunday. During the weekdays its exciting and busy, but so many people see it like that. On Sunday's it seems almost like its been let down by its people...its quiet and uncertail of itself - almost overdressed. But its great for photography.



I unfortunately was using my ancient Canon 50-200 F3.5-5.6 (with a 1.6 x magnification) lens which wasn't wide enough for a lot of shots, but I made do - and I'm almost glad I didn't have a wide lens because I got some good shots of reflected buildings on other buildings cropped tight. I underexposed quite a few of the pics deliberately, and I have to say, I'm tickled pinkish with the results...

Under exposed, yes, but I love it.. will have a further play with this in Lightroom

This old crane was a perfect subject for black and white - although I did actually use split toning to warm up the highlights just a tad. Click on it to see (if your monitor is good enough - its very subtle).

I carried on walking past a youth activity centre and, more importantly, past five Dutch (spits) barges rafted up on the other side of the harbour and eventually ended up next to the river again, opposite the millenium dome. It was 4.15 and I decided to walk round the Isle of Dogs along the river rather than cut back across Docklands. Again I had to contend with the blocked off walkways which if nothing else, considerably lengthened my journey. Lesson learned: Don't walk along the river. Buy a Dutch barge.

A lovely LuxeMotor Dutch barge. I find its almost impossible to get a decent side-on shot of these 30m plus boats - this was shot from across the river and its lines are somewhat interfered with by the ugly houseboat behind.

The afternoon light was slowly developing into something special and I was constantly checking behind me as well as in front and to the side to see how various landmarks were reacting to the light, and banging off a shot here and there. The tide had gone out a fair bit exposing the foreshore. I was tempted to walk along it, but am as yet not sure whether its nice hard pack the whole way or whether it suddely get soggy/muddy. But the light on the sand and pebbles was magic and I got a couple of decent shots in.

I should have been on the ground for this old rope... it was just dying to be properly photographed...

Brutal Monolith. Reduced the saturation and cranked the warm tones big time...

As I neared Wapping once again, the sun was setting and the moon was rising right behind Docklands... the light was PERFECT. It weas then that I discovered my CF card was full. No problem. I knew I had several shots that were throw-away quality so I threw them away... and then, with a lovely classic Camper & Nicholson yacht motoring upstream in the foreground, the moon rising behind the golden light-bathed docklands I raised my camera, composed my shot, pressed the shutter button and... nothing. Flat battery.

I thought these pilings would be great in mono, but the warm tones from the afternoon sun won in the end

There's nothing you can say to yourself when that happens. So I phoned my good friend Ian and went for a few pints which was, as always, truly excellent even though he had to endure me recounting my woes about batteries, shite lenses and the need for a new camera, a second new camera and, ahem, a third new camera (just a point and shoot pocket camera). And new lenses. And a Dutch Barge.

Eventually I tubed it home and this was when I discovered, very frustratingly, a useful little trick: If your camera battery is flat, remove it. Then put it back into the camera and power up. Hey Presto! It works! I was furious, especially as I now had enough power to review all my shots, including zooming in to check sharpness etc. I tested the auto focus (my 50-200 lens is getting my blame for guzzling power) and it worked fine. Such a waste.

A fine day all the same!