Blooming lovely

Yesterday was a bit of a dull, overcast day, anticyclonic gloom is the meteorological word for it, any hoo this did nothing to detract from the colourful display round Queen's Gardens' fountains. 

Speaking of blooms I came across a nice short film on the Avenues Open Day, where private gardens are opened for the public to raise money for Dove House Hospice. It's only fourteen minutes long and best watched without HD unless you've got a good connection. Oh yeah, it's here.

Finally if things go the way of a certain group to the north of here this blog may soon be coming to you from a different country. We live in exciting times.... *yawn*

100 Alfred Gelder Street

Next door to Essex House is a completely different building, turn-of-the-century Queen Anne revivalish offices with art nouveau trimmings. Did I mention eclectic? 

The upper dormer windows are described , somewhere or other, as a tasteful addition. Hmmm.

Essex House

Essex House is a late sixties/early seventies addition to Hull's eclectic architecture, a substantial office block squeezed into the corner of Manor Street and Alfred Gelder Street that, as you pass gives little sense of its height due to the narrowness of the streets. It houses a range of businesses, solicitors, a call-centre, local government departments and last but not least the Coroner's Office. At one time it used to be the place where countless thousands signed on for their unemployment benefit but that's all been moved elsewhere.

Dancing in the street

As I walked down High Street on Saturday I came across this group in Georgian costume and thought little of it (it was that kind of day, there was a jester and a monk by the church earlier) until after I visited Maister House when I heard music and they were all lined up ready for an 18^th century hop. Naturally I filmed it for posterity.

After this the crowd was to be regaled with the weary womanly woes of a whaler's wife. Too much for me so I left.

Maister House again

I posted about Maister House  sometime last year, well I finally had a look inside on Saturday. The main attraction is the staircase and upper balcony with its neat geometrical arrangement. There was a limitation on the numbers who could stand on the balcony, six at any one time, and a bit of a queue waiting for the privilege so I didn't wait around. The house is a National Trust property and you can have a look round most days if you care to. The pictures give the impression of Stygian gloom, it's was fairly dark but not as black as that.

The ceilings are richly decorated but not very well lit, so my little camera had a few problems picking out any details.

Know your limitations

This weekend was the Open Heritage Days, when various old buildings and some not so old are open for us public to come in and have a good gawp. Previous years I've either forgotten about or missed it but this year I was in town. Now for some reason I found myself in Holy Trinity Church waiting to go up the tower. I somehow had forgotten my hinky knee and my lifelong fear of heights. So anyway I managed to climb up the medieval spiral staircase and get up on to the roof and forced myself to take a few pictures without completely losing the plot. The further ascent up to the actual top of the tower was, I decided, going too far. Yeah I know, I'm a cowardly wuss. 

Queen Street

Tidal barrier and the Deep

Looking north

No, I ain't going up there, thank you.

Contempt, who me?

A little bit of Humber Street

I'm pondering whether or not I hold the city of Hull in contempt, an odd thing to do on a Friday evening but there you go. Someone in response to a comment I made to a piece in the Guardian newspaper remarked that I held the city in contempt. I don't where he got this idea. I confess to being sceptical, utterly unconvinced by any of the gushing praises currently being heaped upon the place, I'm frankly amazed that people put up with the ridiculously poor service from the Council and its, at times, idiotic staff. The schools, the roads, housing, health provision and so on all these things are far from good. Is pointing this out an act of contempt? I could, of course, say that the place was one big gloriously happy family, I could do that but, frankly, I'm not good at fiction.

The Weekend in Black and White is here.
And Weekend Reflections are here.