A different point of view

... sometimes I take a great notion
to jump in the river and drown.

So yes, it's that man again, the statue known for no discernible reason, as Voyage. This thing always puts that old Leadbelly song in my head for some reason but that's just me I guess.

Ice Cream Days

Final stages

Back in February I posted about the construction, in the old dry dock, of a stage for open air performances. Well here it is in all its wooden glory ready for its debut on Saturday with the annual Humber Street Sesh. Looks pretty good to this pilgrim through this barren land. Another welcome development is the opening of a small footbridge (from which the above shot was taken) allowing public access to the stage and buildings. The stage is built from larch so it should weather down to a silvery grey in due time complementing the grey bricks hopefully.

And finally for the truly OCD amongst you; the ancient graffiti Daze is still there though somewhat faded by the passing years, well, aren't we all?

Getting there

I haven't been in this area for a while so it was a pleasant surprise to find that the second set of buildings in this complex by the old dry dock are very nearly completed. If I remember the plans rightly there's another set of buildings to come along the road. It's all looking rather nice I think. Here's how it looked last time.

There's joy in repetition

City Daily Photo's start of the month theme is "My City's Skyline". I've done several skyline shots over the years and after looking through my extensive collection I still think this one is the best I've taken. Only thing is I posted it about six years ago, ah but you won't remember that now, will you?

Bucket List

A charity shop in town had this on its wall ... I love the slide from slappy-happy into despond.

Margot took this as I was suffering from acute cannot-be-arsedness.

Well you don't come across a bucket list like this at all in your life and suddenly another one springs up. I found this story in the local rag just after I posted the above.

More of this please

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago that there's a celebration of the seventy-fifth anniversary of Amy Johnson's death during WW2. Well to go with the fibre glass moths someone has actually come up with the bright idea of installing some seats and plants around the Amy Johnson statue on Prospect Street. The overnight improvement of this rather drab area is a most welcome addition. Local shops are reporting an increase in trade, people are sitting having a bit of lunch in the welcome shade ... makes you wonder why the original seats were removed years ago.

Too slow

If you want that slice of tomato off the pavement don't dawdle or big brother will pinch it from under your beak and leave you chasing shadows. Two young crows were being a bit bold on Holderness Road the other day, even trying their luck on some café tables.

Sign of things to come

I'm sure there will be much worse things than this pathetic pun as the detestable City of Culture waddles into town with its own sense of self importance. ("If I don't like it why don't I go somewhere else?" What? And miss all the crap?) Meanwhile you'll be aware of the need to fix the crappy big road that runs through this dump; the date for that has been put back yet again ... 'til 2022. Now I'll give them credit for saying that date will not be coming forward but might (ie definitely will ) go backward even further. Still we have culture (it may be a crap culture but it's Hull's very own crap culture, so we're told), a new Government (it may be a crap government but it's our very own crap Government, so we're told), a way out of Europe's crappy clutches (ha ha ha watch this space, this may be the funniest thing yet ) and we should be grateful for small mercies ... yes I'm having a crappy day.

The Lighted Doorway

I took this back in December and somehow forgot about it. This is the Venn building at the University, in daylight it looks like this.

Without Compromise

 

I'm not so sure I entirely fancy the idea of a retirement without compromise ...

This is what is being built with the big crane I showed the other day.

The Real Sea of Hull

It's been estimated that over 63,400 tonnes of sediment are deposited in the Humber every year. These range from gravels and sand through to fine clays and it these clays that give the Humber its characteristic brown soup appearance. Now a talentless American attention seeking photographer, on a commission from the fools and knaves who run the Ferens, wanted people to strip naked, be painted as the colours of the sea and spread themselves on the streets of the town. I suppose a wall of shitty brown humanity pouring down Alfred Gelder Street would have been such a drag and something of a public relations disaster. No wonder then that green-blue was the chosen colour. But when the North Sea eventually does flow down the streets of Hull (as it will, again) I doubt it will be turquoise or stop to pose for photographs.  'Humankind cannot bear very much reality' as someone other American once said.

Boys with the blackstuff

Carr Lane on Thursday was an unusual hive of activity as the rush was on to reopen it for Monday. Lorries of tarmac were queuing up and this guy was having fun dumping the old blackstuff on the newly repaired surface while another flattened it with a roller. The road has been completely closed since March and everyone will be glad to see it reopen, yes even me.

Erm ....

More Amy Johnson nonsense in Zebedee's Yard.  Clearly I'm not qualified to pass a judgement on this fine and colourful piece; not qualified at all ... but just one teensy weensy question; why is there a CND symbol lurking in the background?

A whisper of moths

These decorative blobs that have alighted all over town and elsewhere are supposed to be moths. Yeah, I know, you'd never have guessed. Anyhow it's from the same deep pool of idiocy that brought us fibre glass toads to celebrate the death of Philip Larkin; this time the death being celebrated is Amy Johnson's untimely demise in WW2 seventy-five years ago. Nearly sixty of these damn things have been dotted around the place. I've spotted about half a dozen so far and I can assure you I'm not going hunting for the rest. Why moths do I hear you ask? (are you still there?) Well she flew a Gypsy Moth plane, geddit? I know; stooopid. If you're remotely interested in fibre glass lepidoptery there's a gallery of mothy stuff here.

Le football

There's some sort of football championship going on in France this Summer. The England team, joining in with this year's general 'stuff Europe' theme, decided to leave early by losing to that great footballing nation Iceland. So now those who follow the ball kicking game in this part of  the world have all become Welsh. As I write they are playing Portugal, I'm told. It's sad but inevitable that if they lose they'll be that plucky Welsh side but if they win they'll be that great British side. As it is I find football slightly less boring than a seven year old report into the Iraq war. Dewch ymlaen Cymru! as they say down Hessle Road.

Cottingham Day again and again

As ever on Cott Day there's the usual device for hanging children, with a nearby climbing frame so they can fall to their early demise with attendant queues of parents eager to dispose of unwanted offspring.

 

There's the vintage cars lining Hallgate

and people taking pictures of vintage cars on Hallgate.

There's the display of birds of prey who really should be in shade but are left to pant in clear distress in the warm sunshine while crowds ogle them and have their pictures taken holding them.

There's wannabe singers, of course, where would we be without them?

And people taking pictures of wannabe singers ...

There's the large stage with a pretty awful singer who...

...is ignored by a less than appreciative audience;

And there's always a display of vintage motorbikes but by this time they'd had enough and were off home. Just like me. See you next year, same time, same place, same whatever...

Meanwhile ...

... the world keeps on twirling, the birds are still singing and the roses still blooming.

Today is the annual Cottingham Day to which I shall no doubt go if I can dodge the heavy showers with the hint of thunder. This is, of course, high Summer in this green and pleasant land and we expect no better.

Don't look down

So we're waiting on a bus on Spring Bank and Margot starts taking pictures of the trash that abounds in those parts. "What do you want to do that for?" says I. "No reason," says herself "but I bet it ends up in your blog one day"  ... Hmmm

The uplifting theme for the start of July is 'Look Down'.

The Truth is out there

They are building something on Newgate Street in Cottingham (a residential care home I'm told but I don't really care). Naturally they need a crane, a really big crane. 

As it's a tall thing it has a red light on top to warn passing aircraft I suppose. After a while this is spotted by someone (who may or may not have under the influence of the demon drink) in Hull a mile or so away and reported in the paper as a UFO... but, but, but he sputters it's not just one light there's another in the east, yup, that'll be the cranes at the University . It's sobering to think that the fate of nations is in the hands of people who cannot tell a crane from a flying saucer.

A Thing

Someone sat down, or more probably in this town a whole committee sat down, and decided it would a good idea if there was a thing at just this point. Plans were drawn up, consultations held, a contract signed (with Things Inc. no doubt), steel forges fired up, presses squeezed the metal  sheets which were cut and then engraved and welded to give us the glory that is this thing. Now tell me this isn't a worthwhile thing ...

Never saw the sun shining so bright

Here's an odd thing at the marina, I've no doubt it has meaning but I'm damned if I know what it is. This was taken before the EU-know-what and that shade of blue known as Euroblue or Brussels blue will not be seen in these parts again as blue skies come to us courtesy of the sunshine articles of the Lisbon Treaty (tru dat, tru fact innit!).

The Neverendum

Well now two days after the end of the world as we knew it and everything still seems to be going along just dandy. The markets fell then rose to level higher than before the referendum (hardly the financial Armageddon predicted by the remainers). We're still in the EU in case anybody thinks otherwise (despite being told by Mr Juncker to pack our bags  and leave, now, instantly, go on get lost!). We've still got a Tory Government although it is now completely dead in the water with no mandate for Brexit, no Prime Minister and no real majority in Parliament and no respect in the country. The opposition is threatening to rip itself apart again in yet another meaningless leadership challenge (but no-one is listening to them so this doesn't really matter). The Brexiters have admitted (to no intelligent person's great surprise) that their ridiculous claims on immigration and spending on the NHS (£350million a day or was it a week? I wasn't paying them so much attention) were a complete pack of lies. Despite, or perhaps because of, all this the debate-cum-slanging match continues. The losing side now want a re-run referendum ( "We lost, it wasn't fair that we lost". You know the sort of thing that losers say. Perhaps a best of three option will keep them quiet, who knows?). Scotland is making those old fashioned independence noises again (or could that just be bagpipes), the Irish problem is threatening to become a real problem again. The young are thinking themselves betrayed by the old (t'was ever thus). London wants to remain in the EU by a massive margin and what London wants it by and large gets.

Oh and these damn silly flags are still flying. 

Like I say, dandy.

A strange day

I took this on my way to vote in the referendum (voted 'Leave' since you ask because, as is well known, I'm a delusional, knuckle-dragging, xenophobic, racist, piece of shit; yes, the eloquent insults of the losing 'Remainers' still flow ...). Appears even the weeds have UKIP's colours ... It's not every day you have a vote to leave the EU and the PM resigns with a self-inflicted shotgun wound to his foot ... interesting times.

Wake me when it's all over.

When you were young did your mother ever tell you not pick at scabs? That itchy scraped knee with its red crusty wounds just ached to be scratched and picked at only to bleed and start all over again. Well for forty six years the Conservative Party has been picking at its European scab till the damn thing became ulcerous with more than a hint of gangrene. Today the pustulating boil will be lanced and much good it will do anyone. The level of 'debate' has sunk to hitherto unplumbed depths. It's all lies, hyperbole, unbelievable scaremongering and idiotic name calling from both sides (of the Conservative Party!). As for Labour ... well it's a good job no-one is listening to Labour any more; best not to intrude on private grief.

Frankly if we were asking to join the European Union today I very much doubt they'd want us.

The result is tomorrow and I confidently predict half the country is not going to be happy. 

For myself I think I'll take heed of this sign ...

Eleanor Crosses

Spring Bank cemetery has two of these Gothic iron Eleanor Cross style monuments. They are nearly identical. The left hand one is a listed monument  and both were repaired in the mid 1990's when a newspaper from 1868 was found in one of them. Originally they would have had some glazing and a funerary urn positioned within. Of course when new there were no trees and the place would have been kept clear and well maintained.

Skylight

Hepworth's Arcade also has a small but impressive skylight.