This is looking north along the river towards the Alexandra dock in Lynn.
And this is the first time I've used (and not through choice; it was foisted on me) the new Blogger user interface. I must say I like the photo size adjuster with more options than small, big and enormous and out of sight; the rest seems like change for change sake, annoying but not life threatening.
I'd like to say I was professional and spent an age lining up this and
that but nah it's just a click and ooh look they all kinda meet up nice;
sometimes it just happens.
Her most excellent Britannic Majesty's Government regularly astounds us all with its sagacity and fleetness of foot in reacting to changing circumstances. Once again when faced with a death rate of near zero from its very own Covid19 epidemic it cleverly instituted a system of testing. It would do 100,000 tests a day, it boasted, and sure enough it took 100,000 snotty samples a day. (Hoorah and God save the Queen!) Then noticing that these some of these tests came back positive (as they would even if there was no virus left in the world) it claimed, no, stated as fact, there was an increase in the infection rate and certain towns would have to be put back into lockdown (Boo, Hiss and why don't fules obey the guidelines?).
Then seeing that the restaurant trade was as near to dead as can be it brought in a 50% off voucher scheme to get folk to eat out then moaned when folk went out and enjoyed the discount... (Hoorah! no, no sorry not Hoorrah! hush with the Hoorahs...) There were other clever moves but you want get to the sex.
So of course the testing goes on, relentlessly on. (Today I heard that vast numbers of samples will never even make it to the "testing" stage and have simply been binned, the system is creaking, cracking and about to break under the strain) ...and the testing still tells a tale of increasing positives (OoooooH *scarey noise* but as I keep saying the hospitals are strangely empty ...hmmm.) So now there's to be instituted the brilliant Rule of Sex, a device so fantastic it defies criticism. From Monday (and not before) you cannot have sex with more than six people in a house or in any social gathering, I think that's how it goes, like all the guidelines this seems fair and reasonable to me and, speaking personally, won't be too much of a hardship to endure. I might, very easily be confused on this and have got the wrong end of the stick, my hearing's not what it used to be. Anyway ... Take that Sars-Cov-2, you dastardly fiend! Beep, beep now ... and keep a stiff upper something, lip , yeah lip.
And how will this be enforced, do I hear you ask, do you even care (frankly I've given up, gone home and am phoning this in) ... because even Her most excellent Britannic whatsit has noticed a slackening in enthusiasm (nay outright mockery, shame! will no-one take this seriously?) for its imposed ordinances. Answer came there: Covid Marshalls! Yup brilliant, garner a posse of neighbourhood Stasi wannabes (at £10/hour) to go round and check up that the Rule of Sex is being applied. I think I'll apply, I've always had a hankering for sticking my nose in other people's business and telling them that whatever they're doing they should stop. Yes I see a smart career change opening up before me... I just need to get myself a stab proof vest off eBay.
But, seriously, anyone wishing to have their say on the Covid19 and issues pertaining should take half an hour out of their busy lives to look at this brilliant video and consider that the epidemic was a normal event, was not particularly severe, is well and truly over and we are being pushed around by a despotic bunch of thugs using a 'casedemic' as an excuse. The insane rule of six is just a device to stop political action, to prevent gatherings of discontent. We should fly up and teach them manners.
... and the crane? is just a crane in Cottingham, a device to lure you into lurid tales of depravity. The Swedish title is a hat tip to a country that did not follow the madness, suffered the same as everyone, but is now moving on or so we are told ... nah scrub that it was silly ruse to get sex in the headline.
It is said that you cannot step into the same river twice but that doesn't stop you trying to photograph it. So, pace Heraclitus, here is the Driffield canal (or navigation, if you please) once again and it looks just the same as it ever did, nothing much seems to have changed in the fifty odd years since I first came here (well I've changed obviously, but this is just a virtual scrapbook not a philosophical treatise). Appearances can be deceptive, however, and some nearby things have changed and maybe I'll come to that another day. Meanwhile the old cranes are still there waiting for their close-ups ...
and there's a delightful little seat should it all be too much and you need to rest a while and maybe ponder Wittgenstein's word games and how you really can dip your toes in the same river twice; just mind the ducks ...
That's river banks in case you were wondering. At long last work is under way to repair, fix and generally improve (upgrade could be the word I'm looking for) the riverside defences. Here the rig is on the stretch running along Tower Street but much work has already been completed upstream on Bankside and Wincolmlee to the amusement of the many drivers who were unable to use that route as a short cut ... It's a real big job and costs a mere £44 million but then you've got to count the cost of losing bits of Hull to floods and the moaning and the groaning and the blaming and so on and so forth for ever and a day ... money well spent.
That river bank doesn't look too bad does it? But a few yards upstream it's much, much worse ...
The Weekend in Black and White will be here at the appropriate time.
There are a few old warehouses left in the old town all converted into flats and/or restaurants/nightclubs and so on. These still have wall mounted cranes as a reminder that these buildings once had a different purpose. In my ignorance of things mechanical I was going to call these hoists
but I find that a hoist just moves stuff up and down, while a crane
moves the hoist around; but then you already knew that.
The robust no-nonsense one above is on 47 Queen Street and the light-weight fancy one below on the Posterngate warehouse I posted yesterday.
Those two are just puny tiddlers compared to this big red whopper close by the Museum Quarter.
I may have mentioned from time to time the inconvenience to the folk of this sleepy little town of having a busy dual carriage way split off a good third of the town centre. Well never let it be said that nothing has been done about it. Lots of plans have been drawn up, many words have been spoken on the matter, numerous ideas have been proposed, indeed a whole mountain range of hot air, wasted opportunity, and best intentions has sprung up and been eroded to dust by the passing thirty or so years. But no more! A few months ago the silly EU flags were pulled down (& put in storage, you never know when they might be needed again things being the way they are just now...) JCBs cleared land and cranes and pile drivers appeared. It seems that at long last a footbridge will span the mighty A63/Castle Street so people on foot or in wheel chairs or on segways, bikes or unicycles or what ever can just waltz from one side to the other without waiting for the little green man. The price of all this fancy liberty? A mere £12 million.
Before I get too carried away I would just caution that the last footbridge built in this town took over three years to build with problems involving the contractor. And, right on cue, the contractor building this has recently gone into administration. There are, of course, promises that this will not affect the construction. Hmmm.
I bet you're dying to know what the bridge is going to look like. I can sense your jealousy ....
I've shown this riverside building before. It used to be a buoy shed for Trinity House but it's been empty for a while and looks (as it always has) like it might just slide into the river any day. Any how it's up for sale so you can buy a piece of Hull that no-one can find a use for and get to play with that really rare swan neck crane; go on you know you want to.
Next door to the New Theatre I showed yesterday is the site of a new school or University Technical College to give it its fancy name. The last time I was around here, in May last year, they had been in the process of demolishing bits of the old fire station so they've come on a bit since then.
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.
I think the heat may be getting to me and it's only the first day of what is billed (by weather people with big smiles you would love to hit with a wet fish) as a heatwave. Well I know 28°C is hardly going to cook your brains but I do NOT do hot. I'll probably aestivate if it carries on much longer...
The mess that is Humber Street clearly requires some heavy lifting and in a narrow street a big crane has to go up and over both sides to get the new metal work in place. Even with this machine the street will no doubt still be an array of scaffolding and supports by the time of the Humber Street Sesh in August when thousands will descend upon it in search of entertainment.
