photography – Where is Phil now?

Blenheim to Christchurch on the scenic train

Christchurch, New Zealand – Saturday 22 March 2025

The cost of picking up a rental car in one location and dropping it off in another is just sheer lunacy, at least it is in New Zealand, I’ve not done it anywhere else. When I was planning this holiday I discovered the cost of renting a car in Picton, where we got off the ferry from the North Island, and leaving it in Christchurch where we all flew out from, was five times the price of just renting and dropping in Christchurch itself.

Luckily, there is a fantastic train between Blenheim, where we stayed last night, and Christchurch. The train is a scenic tourist train and is therefore not cheap, but even for the three of us it was still less than half the difference in the car rental. It was a no brainer really.

There is only one train a day, in the early afternoon, so we killed the morning over a leisurely breakfast in a café not too far from the motel. There isn’t much to Blenheim town centre and I think we saw most of it when we walked there for dinner last night. We did a quick circuit of the town centre then waited for the train over a glass of local pinot gris in the station.

The train arrived a few minutes late and was, surprisingly, but not surprisingly, pulled by a big old diesel engine. Which did make sense when we started slowly grinding up through hills towards the coast on the single train line that runs from Picton down towards Christchurch.

The train was full and I would guess that we were almost the youngest people on the train, which was mostly full of foreign tourists like us. There were definitely some Americans, we could hear them.

As this is a scenic train, the main carriages had larger windows than normal, but the best feature for me was an open carriage which meant no window reflection.

The one downside to the open air carriage was that it was right behind the engine and the diesel fumes got quite oppressive when the train was slowly winding up hills or through speed restricted tunnels. When the train was at full pace there was plenty of wind-blown hair action going on.

The train line mostly follows State Highway 1 all the way from Blenheim to Christchurch, and we were soon grinding our way very slowly up and over the bone-dry Wither Hills. It was a spectacular start to the journey.

I spent a lot of time standing in the outside carriage, occasionally with a glass of wine in hand. I was shocked to see so many other passengers sleeping, or reading or worse – staring into their phones. The early stages of the journey were spectacular, I couldn’t keep my eyes off the countryside.

Admittedly it is a five and a half hour journey and there were some dull bits as we worked our way through the farmland of North Canterbury, but crikey – how could you not be looking out the window at the start!

Once through the hills and passing through the small town of Seddon, we were on the coast which we followed the rest of the way, criss-crossing with the highway all the way south. This was taken through the window from inside the carriage.

It’s remarkable that this train journey exists. A 7.8 magnitude earthquake near the coast devastated the land, the road and rail line in 2016. Fortunately this is a fairly rural area and the earthquake occurred in the middle of the night, meaning only two people lost their lives; tragic as that still is. The rail line was closed for two years and though the highway has been fully open for some time, there is still significant work to be done. I’m glad we weren’t in a car.

Past Kaikoura the view settles into the sea on the left hand side, flat farmland with snow capped mountains popping in and out of sight on the right. Small towns ‘flash’ past as the not particularly fast train rumbles on through.

We cross some spectacular riverbed/flood plains on extremely long bridges. I was sitting in the cabin when I took this one through the window.

Soon enough we were pulling into Christchurch Station, slightly late as the train in front was on the single platform. Hard to believe this is the second biggest city in New Zealand! We were met on the platform by an old friend, who we are staying with for the two nights we’re in town.

The journey is fantastic and highly recommended if you’re looking for an alternative way of travelling from Picton to Christchurch or one of the stops in-between.

Cook Strait crossing

Blenheim, New Zealand – Friday, 21 March 2025

The Interislander Ferry left it’s berth in Wellington Harbour on time, at 8:45am. We’d arrived as requested at 7:45 for an airline style check-in and the big bags were taken off our hands and stowed somewhere on the ship where they store big bags. It was great not having to lug them around. The ferry is pretty big, it’s a vehicle ferry and it was full of all sorts of vehicles and all sorts of people.

We had an average breakfast and a terrible coffee as soon as we got on board, then discovered the proper café and got a much nicer coffee once we were settled and on the way out of the harbour. We wanted to beat the rush for food, but patience should have been exercised instead. I was desperate for a caffeine fix mind as the machine in the ‘departure lounge’ wasn’t working.

We were lucky with the weather; it was a stunner of a day, warm, calm and clear. Everything you want for a crossing of the Cook Strait, the band of water between New Zealand’s North and South Islands. We were heading south, across the strait and down through the Marlborough Sounds to Picton; about 3 hours and 30 minutes away. It’s about 93 kilometres in total, with two thirds being inside the sounds.

Eleanor and I have done the journey before, but I was keen to share it with Paula, as on a good day like today, it’s a stunner of a trip. It lived up to the reputation I’d given it as well.

The ferry sort of hugs the southern coast of the North Island for a while, providing some great views of the rugged coast line. I spent a lot of time on this part of the journey trying to spot dolphin pods, or even better whales; but sadly, other than a few seagulls, there was no other wildlife to see today.

As we approach the top of the South Island it is almost impossible to see the narrow entrance to the sounds from the strait and it sort of pops into view at the last minute.

The highlight was undoubtedly the final hour navigating through the stunning Marlborough Sounds. The water turned a deep turquoise as we weaved between the hills that plunged dramatically into the sea. Small isolated homes appeared occasionally along the shoreline, accessible only by boat.

As we approached Picton we carved through a monstrous pod (swarm? herd?) of jellyfish.

I’d tried to arrange a shuttle ride from the port in Picton the thirty or so kilometres to Blenheim, where I’d booked us into a motel for the night. I thought the booking had failed, but the driver was waiting for us with a sign with my name on it as we got off the ferry and collected our bags. It was an expensive ride.

We had a fairly simple motel, it was comfortable, quiet and perfectly fine. We weren’t planning on spending a lot of time in the rooms. The shuttle driver had recommended the St Clair Vineyard for lunch so we took a taxi there and were lucky to get a table – only because we’d booked ahead just before leaving the motel. It was very busy.

Marlborough is wine country and there are a significant number of vineyards in the surrounding area. Some brands, like Cloudy Bay, are very well known in the UK. I think it would be fair to say that sauvignon blanc is the primary grape variety grown here. Marlborough sauv blanc is available in most places in the world that sell wine.

St Clair wasn’t a wine producer I’d heard of before so I was keen to sample some of their product. We’re not huge fans of sauvignon blanc, much preferring the pinot gris variety of white wine. We also like a gewürztraminer, which is less well known in New Zealand, though St Clair had a very nice one.

Fortunately the vineyard only allows bookings for a couple of hours so we were turfed out nice and early. I could have sat there in the sun drinking cold wine and eating cheese for hours; though would have been broke and a bit ‘under the weather’ if that had happened.

Our South Island adventure was off to a cracking good start.

The ‘art deco capital of the world’

Napier, New Zealand – Wednesday, 19 March 2025

When planning our New Zealand travels, Napier was high on the list – especially after missing it on our previous trip due to Covid restrictions. What makes this city particularly fascinating for me is its remarkable architectural story, born from a terrible (and probably terrifying) event.

On 3 February 1931, Napier experienced a catastrophic 7.8 magnitude earthquake that lasted just 2.5 minutes but completely transformed the city. The earthquake tragically killed 256 people and almost totally destroyed the city centre, as well as causing severe damage to residential areas and the surrounding countryside.

By 1933, Napier had completely reinvented itself as an art deco city. Embracing current design trends, with a local flavour, the city was rebuilt from the ground up. Remarkably, much of that 1930s rebuild remains behind and walking through the city centre today feels like stepping into a perfectly preserved 1930s film set.

With over 140 well preserved art deco buildings, the city now markets itself as the “Art Deco Capital of the World.” I would love to visit when they properly celebrate this and ban all those pesky modern cars that park in front of all the interesting bits.

We arrived in Napier after a 5 hour drive from Rotorua, and with only an afternoon in town we were out looking at buildings soon after dropping our bags in the motel, which was directly over the road from the beach. It’s always relaxing being near the sea.

We loved Napier, and I wish we’d had more time to just walk around the city centre and admire the beautifully maintained buildings under a nice blue sky. There is a (mostly) friendly vibe here.

I took a lot of photos as we walked.

It’s a small city centre and with little time we focused on the central streets. There are a couple of locations away from the business and commercial centre, though we didn’t really have time to visit them. I would have liked to have seen some of the residential properties. I’ve saved those for next time.

Late afternoon we stopped for a drink and a sit down at Community Burgers, a really nice little bar that I would’ve been very content spending more time in if I hadn’t had a burger for dinner last night. A rare bar playing decent music.

Walking back to the motel for a break before convening again for dinner, we had the only unpleasant moment of the entire trip. We got engaged in a random conversation with an oldish man, who stopped us on the street. He was clearly drunk or on something, and it started off being just a bit weird but moved on to him making an extremely racist comment, at which point we left the conversation. This resulted in him telling us to ‘F off’ and us returning the compliment, before heading off in different directions.

Luckily, we only let it ruin our day for a few minutes, and after a planned rest, we walked to the beautiful Masonic Hotel for a very nice dinner and a settling glass of wine, or three.

A walk in the park

Wanstead – Saturday 08 February 2025

Every great adventure starts with a train journey. Though, it’s fair to say today’s adventure wasn’t great, and neither was it that adventurous, but it did start with a train journey. All 15 minutes of it.

For the past few months, I’ve had some discomfort/mild pain in my groin. I thought it might be a hernia so my doctor referred me for a scan at the Loxford Polyclinic in Barking, 15 minutes along the Suffragette Line from home followed by a 10 minute walk from the station. There are an awful lot of signs advising that the reception area I was sent to (1b) didn’t have a receptionist; this didn’t stop every person who arrived after me asking if there was a receptionist on today. I did get seen quite quickly.

I wanted to make this visit a little more enjoyable and “adventurous” so mapped out a walk home via the large heath/common area that I just lump into the generic name of Wanstead Flats, though there are official names for all the chunks of open land that is carved up by busy edge of London roads. One of those bit is Wanstead Flats, I just have no idea where is starts or ends.

I was expecting a grey old day but I wasn’t expecting to walk for 90 minutes with cold drizzly rain as my constant companion. However, the rain and very low cloud kept the people away and muted the noise of the traffic to a dull hum. It also blanketed any buildings on the flats’ edges making the walk feel endless and isolating and I really enjoyed the solitude. I walked without headphones and just ‘was’. It was nice. Cold, wet, but nice. My working week just seems so full of noise and I’m starting to appreciate quiet when I can get it, and this means listening to less music than normal. I’m finding this change quite liberating. Music has been with me for decades, and is critical to my wellbeing and I’m not giving it up, just slowly releasing it as a crutch, and allowing myself time in my own head has it’s own rewards.

Other than getting some miles into my legs before we go to New Zealand in four weeks (less three days; and I’m very excited), I’ve been wanting to photograph some garage doors that back onto a dirt path on the edge of the health for quite some time. I know that ‘garage doors on the edge of a heath’ is quite a ‘Phil’ thing to want to photograph, but I’m interested in these luminal spaces where human-made things butt up against natural things. Admittedly, the heath is hardly natural, particularly at this particular point as it’s just football fields, but you (hopefully) get what I mean.

On Thursday I bought myself a new 27mm lens for the Fujifilm xt2 camera I use and wanted to test it out before we go on holiday. It’s a very small lens and makes the camera a little less obvious, something I wanted for when I go to Delhi where I hope to try some street style photography.

Many of these garage doors are blocked by scrub, some are graffitied and some are pristine and obviously used. It’s also kinda weird that these garages back onto parkland that is part of Epping Forest, I’ve no idea how that happened.

I started the nicer second half of the walk just inside the A406, the dreaded North Circular road that slices through a large portion of northern London and is just a constant traffic jam. I’d just walked from Barking to Ilford so it was a relief to not be walking on the pavement of a busy road. I entered the ‘flats’ at the end of Forest View Rd, and it must be the most southern point of Epping Forest. There is not much forest at this point.

I walked past Alexandra Lake before cutting around a couple of football pitches with kids’ matches going on before I headed north west towards the ‘garages’.

I kept local landmarks Fred Wigg and John Walsh Towers as an earthly North Star as I walked. I’m trying to plan walks before I leave home so I rely less on the maps app on my phone. I feel like my memory is waning rapidly as I just rely on technology too much another thing I want to practise before I go away; though I suspect mobile phone theft is less endemic in Delhi than it is in London.

The heath is a mix of football pitches; mostly unused today, and small patches of bramble and scrub, with the occasional clump of trees tossed in for good measure. It’s criss-crossed by roads though both the heath and roads were quiet today.

It took about 40 minutes of weaving and wandering to get to the ‘garages’, and to be honest I was a little surprised I found them, my vague plan had worked! I’ve only ever walked to them from the other end and then taken a sort of random path back towards home. I’d never approached from this angle before so it was a confidence boost to know that my brain hasn’t fully atrophied with constant mobile phone use.

The new lens was perfect for these conditions; a narrowish tree and scrub lined path between fields and houses, the low, dull sky and drizzle needed a crisp and ‘fast’ lens and I’m happy with the results. The weather suited the subject material as well. This is a not-quite grotty bit of east London edgeland, it shouldn’t be photographed under a warm blue sky. Today’s conditions were perfect.

Fred and John stayed as my marker beacons as I cut across the deserted football pitches back towards a warm and dry home. It’s hard to believe it’s only 1pm.

When I woke up this morning I’d intended on making a full day of today, Eleanor is out with friends and I’d wanted to get a really long walk in, but after two hours out I was cold and my trousers and boots were wet from the long grass so I went home, put music on, edited photos and wrote this instead. No regrets, I’d had a good day, and not just because I bought chips from Leytonstone’s best chippie on the way home

Five photography exhibitions

London – Friday 17 January 2025

With the trip to New Zealand and India now only a few weeks away, I’m doing a bit of practice, but what for I’m less certain of. My world has become quite cocooned since Covid and the eight days I will spend in India will be the longest I’ve been away by myself since a solo trip to New Zealand in 2018.

Eleanor will hate me saying it aloud, but I have become quite dependent on her for company and emotional support over the past few years. She has been encouraging me to get out more, do things and meet people and I have bursts of enthusiasm on occasion, but there is a way to go yet. I’m capable of entertaining myself, but eight days away is a long time, so I want to practice independence at least.

Eleanor is away in Bristol visiting one of her sons for the weekend and I have time at home so I plan on getting to some photo exhibitions today and then finding a pub to sit in to read my book over a pint and some food. Practise eating with only a book for company. Not wanting to be seen eating alone is definitely a ‘thing’, and it is a ‘thing’ I’m uncomfortable about. I don’t like being noticed, and of course the stupid thing is other diners/drinkers don’t really care, if they notice at all. It took a while, but I got comfortable with solo life when I travelled all those years ago so I should be able to do it for eight days, and practise makes perfect, apparently.

I also need to get some leg miles as there is a lot I want to see in Delhi and Chandigarh. I nailed the leg miles today with over 15km of walking done, the most for quite a few weeks, though I was getting a bit leggy by the end. I aim to get another 10-12kms done tomorrow and a few more on Sunday if I can. The final thing I wanted to practice today was just walking slowly, without headphones in and just enjoying the moment while it exists, good or bad. I need to stop needlessly rushing everywhere. This final thing will take some work I think.

I had a good go at practicing all of those things today. I got to five photography exhibitions across three different London galleries. All of them were different and all of them were brilliant in their individual way. Some of the images were quite sad, a small number were disturbing and an even smaller number were humorous. There was a decent balance of colour and monochrome.

I was inspired to visit all these galleries by a recent Substack post from fellow New Zealander, and Lynfield College alumni, Garth Cartwright, though he was not in my year.

My first stop was the Saatchi Gallery and ‘As We Rise: Photos from the Black Atlantic’. The images come from the Canadian Wedge Collection and showcases work from black artists from Canada, the US, UK, the Caribbean and Africa. The space is gorgeous, large, light and airy and I was surprised to find myself largely alone in the galleries. Friday afternoon is obviously a good time to go for peaceful and solitary contemplation.

I followed this with another show in the Saatchi, ‘Adaption’ a collection of work from Russian/American photographer Anastasia Samoylova. These were the most ‘fun’ images of the day, with a mix of reportage and some interesting photo collages mostly taken around Florida. As with ‘As we rise’ I was almost the only person viewing in the vast rooms the work was hung in.

I walked 50 minutes through Belgravia and Mayfair, two very expensive parts of London, neither of which I know well, to Goodman’s Gallery, for a major exhibition of work by Earnest Cole; ‘House of Bondage’. A collection of monochrome photos taken in 1960 of impoverished black communities in South Africa. Most of these images provided the content for a 1967 book of the same name. The images were heartbreakingly beautiful, with my ‘favourite’ being a lesson in a school where girls learn to scrub floors on their hands and knees. The images are beautifully lit and printed and Earnest who grew up in this community obviously had a lot of love for his home, hard as it was.

There is some irony with these images being hung in a very expensive Mayfair gallery, admittedly it is a South African gallery and primarily hosts work from that country. Other than the staff, who mostly ignored me, I was the only person there.

It was a short hop over Regents Street to The Photographers Gallery for the final two exhibitions. The first by Letizia Battaglia; ‘Life, Love and Death in Sicily’, a collection of reportage images showing the impact the Sicilian mafia had in the 70s and 80s across the state. Like House of Bondage, these were powerful, often brutal pieces of documentary making. Letiza was not afraid to use her skills as a photographer and her position with the daily paper to show how these criminal organisations were destroying community and family. There were many images of the victims of mafia shootings and the their shocked and bereaved families.

Finally, also at Photographers, I saw the photo collage works of the late fashion and art photographer Deborah Turbeville, which were beautiful and a more joyous way to end my viewing day. I particularly liked that some of her works were deliberately out of focus, giving a ghostly ethereal quality which a style I enjoy. Technical perfection can be dull.

I had a small slice of delicious pizza and a glass of wine in a Soho cafe, which was bustling and busy and a little noisy and I should have stayed for a second and attempted the book reading thing, but it was uncomfortable – intentionally I think, to stop people lurking at tables. I spent some time trying to find a pub that looked welcoming to a solo traveller and found one, but the wine was pish and again the seat was awful. I didn’t stay long and meandered to the station for a tube ride home.

I bought myself a new winter coat in the New Year sales to replace three I’d given to a local charity shop as winter set in. This new coat has pockets big enough to take a medium sized paperback as well as glasses and a phone. This meant I could ditch the bag I’d been carrying all day with a camera I didn’t use (all these photos were taken in my phone) and go to a local pub for dinner with nothing to worry about. Those extra large pockets weren’t planned but they are a proper bonus.

We’re off to St Leonards for a night next week and then I’m planning on a night away in Oxford around the middle of February to do a ‘two days in Delhi’ trial run, taking in ancient and brutalist buildings and the odd museum.

Temple(s) of Love – brutalist Leeds

Saturday 14 September 2024 – Leeds

This was my first Brutal Day Out group trip outside of London and I‘d been looking forward to it for weeks. The group has made a few visits to other cities and towns but I’ve always been busy with other things and not been able to attend. With group members from across the UK it’s important to share the cost of transport and not be so London focused, plus there’s a lot to see outside of the capital and it’s a good reason to visit places I would otherwise have no need to go to.

Also… I’ve wanted to visit Leeds and this was a very good reason to do so. It’s the spiritual home of 80s ‘goth’. The mid to late 80s saw Leeds deliver some fantastic goth bands like The Rose of Avalanche, March Violets, Red Lorry, Yellow Lorry and the kings of the genre – The Sisters of Mercy.

Heartland is an early (and favourite) song from Sisters of Mercy, the B side of the magnificent ‘Temple of Love’ 12 inch single and it popped up on my playlist as the train passed through England’s (semi) rural heartland. I gratefully accepted this as a sign that it was going to be a good day. The weather was certainly playing its part.

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Ten of us met outside Leeds station, five made it up from London, returning the favour to those who frequently travel down from Yorkshire. I’d met most of the group before and it was, as always, good to catch up with this likeable bunch.

Our first stop was Bank House, this and the next building I photographed are brutalist in design, but both had been clad in something other than lovely grey concrete, textured or not, so didn’t particularly wow me. I do like things raw.

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The Ex-Yorkshire Bank Building, vacant and soon to be demolished so more student flats can be built. It’s an Ok building, I hate the glossy cladding, but like the design and the lovely harsh angles. It’s a shame it has to be knocked down for more flats. I mean, the centre of Leeds is hardly attractive, with a weird hodge-podge of building styles from the last three of four centuries. Design planning doesn’t seem to have been a priority for the council, not that there is any unusual in that.

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I love a good car park and Woodhouse Lane on second look is very much a good one. It was all a bit ‘meh’ from the main road, but once round the side and discovering the ramp down from the upper parking decks it was much more exciting.

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I (we) loved the overhanging beams that appeared to have no purpose other than being in some way decorative. One of the group, Kasia, snapped a great picture of me taking the photo below. I seemed to have spent a lot of the day getting in the way of others photos. I guess it was my turn.

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Kasia, has been to India and Berlin and gave me some interesting tips on brutalist and modernist buildings; she is extremely well travelled and I had a little travel envy. I also spoke to Britta about Berlin and she had some good ideas too. They both knew the LP Café Exil, which I listened to a lot leading up to and when we were in Berlin in July. The bonkers brutalist building on the sleeve still stands in Berlin and is on my list of places to visit when we return in a couple of weeks, something I’m looking forward to immensely. A second trip to India is planned for April 2025 and I’m well into thinking about that trip already, in fact it dominates the late night non-sleeping hours at the moment.

The School of Engineering building and a couple of brutalist day outers

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I stupidly didn’t note the name of this completely mad, but interesting stairwell to a rather bland student accommodation block. We had no idea what the top bit is for.

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Then we were onto the main campus of the University of Leeds and a couple of very cool buildings, starting with the huge and imposing Worsley Building.

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I love this reflection from the roadside turning mirror, also capturing a couple of fellow concrete geeks.

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Britta, who was the main organiser and guide for this walk, had clearly saved the best to last, and man was it good. At first glance the Roger Stevens Building looks like it’s more modern than its 60s construction, maybe it’s the paint, maybe it’s the ‘piping’ up the side, either or it looks so futuristic, but under that paint it’s just lovely 60s solid concrete.

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I was a little unexcited when it first came into view, and I wandered away from the group to have a look round the side and found the long and wide staircase, with these fantastic curved cut-outs, one side allowing light to pass across the stairs and through the windows on the other, I loved them. They were the architectural highlight of the day.

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The rest of the building is equally interesting. I’m a huge fan of elevated walkways, and they’re one of the reasons I love London’s Barbican. Designing places specifically for humans rather than vehicles was such a key component of mid-century future design thinking in my view, countering the argument that these concrete monoliths were sterile and void of humanity. Anyway, this is a lovely building and together with Worsley make for a very interesting part of the university campus.

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The walk drew to a close with that most dramatic of buildings so some of us went off for a couple of pints before heading back to the station and, for me, the return to London. It was a good day.

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The Avebury Stones

Sunday 21 July 2024 – Avebury

I’ve a loose interest in standing stones and the other ancient sites that are scattered all over the UK. The standing stones are easier to be fascinated in than say, Iron Age forts, as there is actually something to see, and in the case of Avebury, and unlike Stonehenge, something you can touch as well.

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As I mentioned in the Stonehenge post I love it that even with all our modern smarts we don’t fully understand what the stones were for and why they are where they are. Just this week it was revealed that the huge alter stone in Stonehenge actually came from 500 miles away in the north east of Scotland (I will walk 500 miles etc, etc) rather than from the far closer, but still a long way, Welsh coast, as had been previously thought.

These stones have been here for 5000 years, why then are they still so mysterious? It’s that mystery that attracts me and many thousands of others to these places. When facts are missing, myths fill the gaps, and where myths exists there is room for all sorts of weird, wonderful and often magical stories. I mean, I even posted a piece of weird fiction I wrote back in June 2021 – The Barrow. While this is not set around standing stones it is set close to here, and barrows are very much a feature of this landscape. Sadly, due to the unsupportive nature of the map I was using in the rental car I didn’t make it to any of the barrows.

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Unlike Stonehenge, Avebury is free to access, though the official car park is not cheap and is definitely aimed at people like me who haven’t done a huge amount of research. There are other places to park not too far away if you know where to go.

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Firstly I should describe what a henge is, as it has nothing to do with stones. A henge is a circular or oval enclosure made of earth banks and ditches. A henge encloses a sacred space and they date back to the Neolithic period; from 4000 – 5000 years ago.

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Avebury is the largest known henge in Britain, and it cuts through the small and gentile village of the same name. I liked it. I liked it because though it’s a sacred site and one of international importance, and a key component of the local economy, there are sheep wandering around the stones. The area is treated with reverence and respect, but also practically and likely as it would have been thousands of years ago.

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As you can see from this short film made by Derek Jarman in 1971 as he walked towards the circles a large number of the stones were still lying where they had fallen over the hundreds of years since they were first erected. A programme to re-erect the stones began in 1931 when the land was bought by Alexander Keiler, the heir to the Keiler marmalade fortune.

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It is quite a special place to visit.

A bittersweet walk in the forest

Saturday 27 April 2024 – Epping Forest.

Today was my first walk in Epping Forest proper since December 2022, and as I used to go at least monthly when I was living in Walthamstow prior to the 2019 move to St Leonards, that is quite a remarkable break. Yes, I’ve really gotten into much more urban walking and photography in the past couple of years, but I love(d) the forest so this still felt like a madly long break.

It was to be a bittersweet return…

The morning started well. The wait for the train from Leytonstone to Loughton was under a minute, I had allowed for 10-12, and it wasn’t raining as heavily as expected, but for almost May it was flipping cold. I picked up a coffee in Loughton for the walk from the town centre to the forest and it wasn’t as bad as the coffee I last bought from the same café.

The late spring forest is my next favourite to mid-autumn forest. I like that there is still some winter colour and that there is still plenty of air between the trees. It’s too busy in full summer for me. The low grey cloud provided the perfect flat light as well as dulling any sound. The light rain meant the forest was quiet. it was almost perfect.

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The plan was to walk from Loughton station to home in Leytonstone, walking almost entirely on unsealed paths and under the cover of trees through Epping Forest and the smaller subsidiary wooded areas through Chingford, Higham Park and Walthamstow. At the least the walk was just under 13kms in length, but I knew that once in forest I would be wandering all over the place and walking another 3 or 4 kms was more than likely.

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I was determined that this would be a walk and not a prolonged photography session, but yeah, who was I kidding. The camera first came out soon after I entered the forest at Earls Path Pond and it really only went back in my bag when the rain was too hard. Needless to say I was enjoying myself. I have taken loads of photos here and at Strawberry Pond in the past and will do so again in the future.

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I crossed over Epping Forest Road and spent some time bumbling about the Long Hills area of the forest, meandering down the smaller muddier tracks, taking photos here and there, changing direction when something caught my eye; though generally heading in the direction of the Hunting Lodge, where I was planning on stopping for (expensive) coffee and lunch.

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I came across a spot where the forest pixies (volunteers) had been clearing bramble and holly and removing crowded saplings and dead and dying trees to allow clearer growth. I found a nice circle of blue bells amongst the stacked felled wood. While one can fantasize over wild forest and whether Epping should just be allowed to go feral and return to its ‘natural’ state without the interference of humans, I just don’t think it would work. This forest has been attended to by humans for centuries, it was protected royal hunting ground and animals foraged here, keeping the undergrowth down. It was also a source of wood for the communities that surrounded it and plenty of ancient pollarded trees remain. If it was let go it would just be a tangled mess of that bramble and holly and almost impenetrable.

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The only place I don’t use my headphones when I’m alone is in the forest, and not for any personal safety thing, I want to enjoy the experience of being somewhere I’m not compelled to drown out the noise of the city. As I was walking I was thinking about how calm I was; I’m not one to overly promote the nature-bathing thing, and I won’t say I could feel life’s stresses leaving my body as I walked in relative peace, but it wasn’t far off that. When I go into the office I’m bombarded with noise from the moment I arrive at the station in the morning to when I leave it again and he end of the working day to walk the six minutes home. My day is surrounded by people who make a lot of noise, from those who talk loudly into their phone on the tube to drown out the rattle and screech of the trains to the constant (often inane) babble of people in the office. I have long realised I’m negatively affected by the constant noise. I need to walk in peace a lot more.

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I was walking along feeling good, taking photos, enjoying feeling unstressed when I came to one of the many path intersections. Not being entirely sure where I was I reached into my pocket for my phone so I could find myself, and….. my phone wasn’t there. Queue much frantic searching of pockets and bag, then pockets and bag again and then the rapid realisation I had lost my phone somewhere ‘back there’, back where I had meandered aimlessly for at least 30 minutes. There was no point in going back and trying to find it. Luckily one of the few other walkers was nearby so I checked I was choosing the right path to get me back to Chingford, and the station, then home.

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Other than ruining what was an enjoyable time, the most annoying thing was my phone was only two months old and it was my cost to replace it. Which, as I had time left in my day due to the early start, I managed to do.

I will try the walk again in a few weeks.

The bluebells of Chalet Wood (2024 edition)

Friday 12 April 2024 – Wanstead Park, London.

After significant procrastination I finally bought myself a new camera. I say ‘new’ but what I really mean is I bought myself another camera. I love the Canon 5d Mk2 and I’ve used Canon cameras since 1984 when I bought my first SLR; a Canon AE1. I’m comfortable with how they work and how they feel in my hands, but I’m tired of the size and weight of the 5d and want something smaller and lighter. I used Panasonic Lumix camera when I travelled in Asia and Sri Lanka all those years ago and still have a working GF1 and GX1, they’re both getting on now, but that isn’t why I don’t use them. I just don’t like how they feel.

After a ton of research and talking to people I trust I committed last weekend and bought a second hand Fujifilm TX2 and a 18-55 ‘kit’ lens, both online. Today was the first outing and I’m happy I made the right choice. Once I sell all the other camera gear I will buy a better lens, or maybe two, but then sell the kit lens. I’m trying to declutter a bit so getting rid of a load of camera stuff will be the bonus on top of hopefully paying for the XT2 with what I make.

In a burst of unusual timeliness we had the time and inclination to walk the 40 minutes to Chalet Wood in Wanstead Park while the bluebells were at peak bloom. Visiting is an annual event but we often only remember to go when we see photos on social media and by then the blooms are fading. While they are never disappointing they are not as beautiful as they could be if we went at the right time.

With Eleanor not working on Friday and me now doing a nine-day fortnight, being able to visit the bluebells on a less busy week day was a real bonus. It was a lovely walk and the bluebells were magnificent. The fields are not vast, but are so much bigger and better than what the camera reveals, so I absolutely recommend a visit, but maybe wait for peak bloom next year.

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Chalet Wood is one of a dwindling number of large scale bluebell fields anywhere near London. They only bloom for a few weeks in mid-spring and are only found in ancient forest sites; and there are not many of those left in the UK sadly.

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Brutalist Brunel University

Saturday 06 April 2024 – Uxbridge, west London.

Uxbridge station was a surprise modernist bonus; and what a lovely station; so much better than the old, grimy and grim station at Leytonstone where I live. It would be fun to have 30 mins here without passengers wandering past wondering why five people were pointing cameras.

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Uxbridge was really busy, lots of shops and seemingly well frequented by shoppers and pedestrians, it’s too suburban and not my sort of place, but it was good to see a busy shopping area. We popped round the corner from the station to catch a bus for the 10 minute ride out to Brunel University. There nice building over the road from the bus stop was an additional treat to be had while we waited for the bus.

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The main reason for coming all the way out west was to have a look at the university’s lecture centre which is a proper brutalist masterpiece. Designed by John Heywood, the centre opened in 1971. Apparently it has had been undergoing maintenance recently so we timed it well, avoiding any lingering scaffold or hoardings. It really is a beauty; small yet perfectly formed. It, along with a couple of other Brunel buildings, particularly Tower D, feature in Stanley Kubrick’s ultra-violent dystopian ‘A Clockwork Orange’ film.

I quite liked this sculpture by Philip Whitten to celebrate the Shoreditch College’s golden jubilee in 1969.

After cooing over some lovely concrete and resting with a refreshing coffee and snack from a conveniently open student café we walked around the rest of the small campus and took a few photos of some of the other 1960s constructed buildings, including Tower D. There was a lot more of interest than we expected, which made for some very happy photographers of 60s and 70s concrete. Probably worth a proper Brutal Day Out and some stage.

Next, back to Uxbridge and carparks…