Poet, story-teller, sailor

All the same man.

Ian Stephen no less.

Yes, this is him. Trust me. Cycling back from his boat to home to pick up 'stuff' to mend a little leak in the hull.

Boat 1.

I've been away, visiting Mater in Somerset and having my thoughts re-programmed by a rather nice man in, of all places, Newport - that's Newport in Welsh Wales. It rained there. To be quite honest, I think it has always rained when I have been in Newport - which, in my previous English life was quite a few times teaching people how to teach people how to ride bicycles round and round on a wooden track. I'd been sent from Manchester you know. Cheltenham was in my varied itinerary too, staying with my little sister [and her husband and two grown-up kids]. The sun was shining off the lovely honey-coloured stone built houses as I met a pal I used to work with 35 years ago. 35 years??? Yes, that is right, sadly. He hasn't changed - they never do.

I took the train back to Mater's - a rare treat apart from the fare. And the train. It seems that I could get a much lower fare if I was to break the journey up into two sections - to Briftol and then on to Highbridge. So I did. Mad isn't it?

Bristol was my home for a few years a hundred years ago so I took the opportunity to stroll from the Brunel designed railway station across to the docks and eventually to the Arnolfini [as one must do ] before returning to the trains. Passing by the dockside my eye caught sight of the Thekla - a venue where I have enjoyed many happy evenings - some years ago. Viv Stanshall - previously of the Bonzo's used to own the thing before he set fire to his flat somehow and passed on to another way of being. I had a camera with me. I had two actually. I chose one, raised the Petri7s to my eye, composed and shot. Here is the shot.

As an aside, a pal of mine is involved in trying to re-stage Viv's Stinkfoot sometime soon.

Petri7s. Fomapan400@800 Rodinal 1:100