A little OTT? Perhaps not ...

I have noticed that Hull University's graduation days have become something of an annual bean feast, with town criers and chamber music and so on. All those well dressed ladies in high heels that obviously were hurting like hell. What could they do this year to top the last? Well an over sized CCT screen showing the ceremony from City Hall live in Queen Vic Square was not the most obvious answer but here it is nevertheless. Next year a fly pass by the RAF perhaps? I suppose if you are going to put yourself in debt for twenty five years buying a degree (sorry that's paying for tuition, what was I thinking?) then a little celebration is in order. Good luck to all those newly qualified clever so and sos. I really don't envy you, well not much.

Long Walk to Freedom

It's been a while since I had walked down the lower end of High Street which I have shown before to have an empty plot awaiting the construction of an umpteen storey hotel. The site had a dismal security fence with the usual warnings for those who would misbehave. So it was something of a pleasant surprise to come across this colourful mural to Nelson Mandela which apparently went up last September. Don't know how I've missed this 'til now. 

Finally credit where credit is due. This was commissioned by Full Flava Arts along with Roots and Wings and Freedom Festival Ltd and it's the work of twelve graffiti artists. You can view the creation of the mural and get a much fuller view than I present here by going to this page.

Say Cheese

In Latin American culture the instruction is, quite rightly, "Diga 'whiskey'" and while Swedes like to say 'Omelette', Danes have "Sig 'appelsin'", say orange. Germans, I'm told, prefer spaghetti, Iranians apples and Moroccans bread. All silly ways to make people smile while having their photos taken. (I suppose the modern version is along the lines of "Say Selfie") Are you smiling? No? Well suit yourself.

Oh and if you can say 'Cheese' ten times without laughing then it seems you are a very truthful person. 

This is the service gate of the Hull Cheese about which I posted at length some time back, here.

Truelove revisited

Given the usual practice of removing metallic works of art from public view in order to release the scrap value therein it is heartening that this installation has survived the passage of time. Here, once again, are Memiadluk and Uckaluk ill-fated visitors to this town from far northern lands. No excuse for reposting this other than it's a better image and my new camera, capable of facial recognition, said the subjects blinked, well hah!

The good old weekend in black and white is here.

Aussies suck ...

... something called Up & Go (a breakfast drink, m'lud ) every morning which is why they will no doubt win this Summer's Ashes series which starts today in Cardiff. Sadly there'll be no “Morning, everyone” from Richie Benaud but life goes on. Cricket, I'm told, is an impenetrable mystery to some folks who fail to see how a match can last five days, end in a draw (if we're lucky!) and still be gripping stuff. Well there you go, that's just how it is.
These adverts however really do 'suck' if I may use the vernacular.

True story

This little house has been empty for some time. Emptiness is taken as an invitation by low-life scum to enter and take out all the copper piping, to  mess the place up, break all the windows, squat for a while, use as a drug den and then finally set fire to it. Add to all that the failure of the foundations leading some real fancy cracks, it's a wonder it has fallen down. In the above picture the rear extension is on the point of tumbling over. The Council have scheme to bring properties like this back to life but the damage was too great even for that most generous of institutions, it gave the place a zero value; £0!!

Still the place was not doomed for a Prince Charming had fallen in love with this sleeping little money pit and set his heart on restoring it to its former glory. So just the other week after years of trying to trace the owner he finally bought the place and has set about clearing the overgrown garden (mainly elderberry and ivy not thorns! This is not a fairy tale!) and will shortly be demolishing those parts about to fall down with a view to rebuilding. This blog (and, I suppose, the nice guy who lives next door) wishes him well!

Tre Kronor

Guildhall, Hull

It's a little known fact the Hull was once a Swedish city and that there was much trade with that Baltic country in medieval times that continues to this day. This explains the accent of native born Hull folk and also how Hull's coat of arms has three crowns on it exactly like the Swedish coat of arms and the ever so similar the three crowns over the stadshus of Stockholm. Sweden's ice hockey team wear three crowns on their shirts as do Hull's two Rugby League sides. It's all very sub rosa and embarrassing as the English like to think the king in Kingston upon Hull was an English King when in fact it was one of the Gustavs or maybe a Magnus I forget for the moment. Sadly, or more likely stupidly, wars have been fought over these three damned crowns. Hull's three crowns are even protected by an Act of Parliament. All this hidden history is so little appreciated that you could say I just made it all up. It's the heat, Carruthers, the damned heat....

The weekend in black and white is here.

Real history people have little or no idea about these three crowns either as you can find out here.