Getting ready for Ullapool

Eve & Mr Windy on Tandem

We have a tandem. In fact we have two although I'm not sure where the track one currently is. Still, our bogstandard lavender coloured beast is now in the safe hands of Mr Windy who, having fettled it, is now steering Eve on training runs prior to the Ullapool cyclosportive in a few weeks. All goes well at the moment. The weather is being kind too.

TT

 Hampton Court

Same place, with added purple

As we arrived, he left.

Lapwing pootled into Hampton Court, the warm sun beating down. We went to see the Olympic cycling time trial preparations - to see where Lord Wiggins might reign. The day before the event. Lots of people and things. Soldiers too - and how pleasant they were.

 Waiting for Lord Wiggins

We went back to the course for the event, near Kingston Bridge where we ended up. People everywhere - talking to each other and everything.

 Still waiting for Lord Wiggins.

After Lord Wiggins won!

We met Ailsa on the bridge - with seemingly lots of friends. No idea who they were but they were up for it - whatever it was.

Can you imagine?

 More smoked salmon?

Peoples

Scenes from  a Thames boat - Lapwing - champagne and smoked salmon optional.

Did I tell you about Maisy?

Maisy

I came blinking out of the darkroom earlier after a particularly fruitless hour to find Ms Maisy sat just here as in this snap. It's where she goes when she wants food. So we have the finest food in stock for her since the sad demise of Mr Pushhkin.

Ms Maisy was the friend of Katie over t'road but she upped sticks and went to live the highlife in Stornoway. Then Alasdair fed Ms Maisy but sadly he passed on to another place so Ms Maisy came under our auspices. Which, as you might imagine, we are very happy about. Only she is somewhat difficult to get to know. One can't get within a metre of her and she would never step over the threshold either. But I think she smiles a bit when the food comes out.

Dot

Mrs Up Yours McIver 

The bike got an airing yesterday as I rode gently about the village waving to all and sundry, smiling and everything. I espied Mrs Up Yours playing gardening in her extensive estate, pulling manically at weeds and anything else by the look of it.

I shouted a greeting. Nothing. No response at all. I moved closer, and called again. Still nothing. Then I waved in front of her boat-race, the ear-plugs came out and Mrs Up-Yours was there. Talking and all that. I had to go and have a look at her new chicks - all spiky and fluffy and looking lovely. Lots of them. Mrs Chicken [forgive me, I forgot her name] had been very busy.

I smiled weakly, took a snap and moved on quickly.

Mr Wiggins won!

Yep, we were there when Mr Wiggins won the road time trial event. Didn't you see me? I was the one without the flag, with camera and shouting.
No?
Ah well, here's some snaps from the plastic Holga camera. Complete with real light leaks!

Raising the flag at Iwo Kingston Bridge

 Waiting for Mr Wiggins [and others]

 Gossiping to Ailsa

 Here's Mr Wiggins!!!!!

 Listening to the Sea Horse radio to see if Mr Wiggins was fast enough.

He's Won. Mr Wiggins has won!

Lovely. What a fab day and met Ailsa McWhinnie and hubby too. See books by Ailsa here and web-site here. We had never met before but felt I had known her all my life. What a lovely couple of people. Have a look at the Paris-Roubaix images on Aisla's website here. Brilliant :-)

Looking out, Looking in; Lapwing

Now, I know nothing about boats. Well, maybe a bit. The ferry here to the island is horrible in rough weather and breaks down a lot. On the other hand Lapwing, the boat in the care of Fleur and Gren is graceful, comfortable and fun to be on. Even if it does take a lot of up keep and sounds like a London bus when under way. Apparently she came from Doncaster way but she sits upon the Thames very happily I can tell you. No doubt Fleur will come along and fill in the details.

We dined aboard her, drank champagne aboard her and sailed aboard her. What more does one want?

London doesn't like me.

Olympic road race excitement

Tell me, you who have experience of the world, who have travelled, seen, been and done. Tell me why Australians always seem to want to set up a BBQ. Even though rain is threatening, they are by the side of a road and hoard of cyclists are due past [very briefly] ? Eh, Tell me?

As a result of which I got excited. As a result of the imminent arrival of fast cyclists that is. Not as a result of Aussies; do you understand me?

 Still-movie of moments in some time or other

And I end up with these. Still-movies of moments in some time or other. This is something interesting above although I know not what. This is what happens when I leave this delightful island go to London. Near London. Ham actually. Yes, Ham, that's where I went.

I met Muna too. A good friend from Uni and mother of Aara and Layla. You see, London doesn't like me. I get too over-excited. Too over-clickable. Over-clicked the Holga and everything. Now, at home I'm cranky. Crook or something colonial like that.

Muna

With Aara. Or is it Layla?

 Is that you Fleur? Is that you?

And Fleur, flower of Ham, mandolinist, maker of films, driver of boat, provider of bed. Sitter on seat - probably. Tweaker of bikes and enthusiasm finder. Did you fed up with my over-excitement? Did you?

Murder in Ham

I'm a wanting to think about considering to learn a musical instrument. I tried the Uke but it didn't agree with me. The fingers kept getting tangled and what have you. And I was humiliated by Dr Michael Hutchinson who started learning up the Uke about the same time as I acquired mine but threw a mean jazz Uke jam when he paid a visit to our lodgings in Ham the other day. I can manage a chord or one at most!

To be honest, I'm not sure why I want to learn up some musical thing. I can't even sing - as evidenced here where I murdered 'Nellie' as Eve sang beautifully. My experience of doing things musical has not been a happy one, but like my dear departed Mater, I feel that now, the prime of my life, is as good as any for trying again with something.

Grenville on the other hand can play a multitude of instruments - guitar, fiddle and accordion [as seen in link above] - the latter instrument which I fondled hopefully in the probable false expectation that it may just be a Sparky to me. I did make it squawk a bit and that encouraged me. The thing even emitted a polka like noise at one time although I wasn't sure that I meant it that way. Still, I must be able to play something so I have been looking to make a small purchase. Of an accordion with hardly any buttons but lots of tunefulness. Eh?

Round Ham way is rather more interesting than I wanted to believe. There's a big river nearby - Thames - with lots of boats, boatyards and a few islands. Some of which have both boats and boatyards on. Eel Pie island is one such place. Claustrophobic but interesting place. Home to Trevor Bayliss - whom we did meet. I took some snaps while I was there. This is one. Nice eh? Could be Hong-Kong or somewhere!

Eel Pie

On tother side, the north side of the land - not the island - are some fine gardens and statues. I snapped them up too. Well worth a visit. You can read about those here.

Orleans statuary

More Orleans statuary. However, those at the front are real people.

In/On tandem

Eh? Hampton Court. Where-else?

I took this snap whilst surveying the cycling time trial course at the London thing. Since then GB cyclists are winning - a lot. Is there a connection?

And today Evelyn and Mr Windy have been out on the tandem ready for the Ullapool cyclosportive in September. :-)

Bike races

Homage to Robert Capa

Have you ever been to watch a cycle race. You know, the ones outdoor where riders in Lycra [and before that wool] whoosh past in a second after you have been waiting for hours by the side of the road. Unless you are on a big mountain where the riders are more strung out and take a while to go past. Well, I have. A few times. A few too many times really. But maybe that was because it's 'my' sport.

Since we were down in Richmond with our lovely friends Fleur and Gren, we took it upon ourselves to watch the road cycling events. On the day of the men's event the weather was warm. The ferry ride to the north side of the Thames took us to Marble Hill house area where, an hour or so before the passing of the race - the early part f the race, we picked our spot by a bus shelter. We cheered everything that moved on bicycles - kids, mums, dad, messengers - everyone really. We laughed and smiled and people and laughed with us. Even PC Plod had a laugh and a smile.Soon the Aussies from the house over the road had set  up the obligatory BBQ. Flags appeared from balconies and the roadside filled up. A lot.

Fleur tests the flag.

Then they came - the Police motorcycle display team and a lost pizza-delivery boy on his little Honda hotly pursued by a hundred or so cyclists on lumps of carbon-fibre. Going fast. So fast that they were gone before they came. Almost. We cheered though.

Later Richmond Park beckoned. It was even more crowded there but I did meet up with one of my sisters up from Somerset for the day. Big crowds, nice people to meet. Fantastic atmosphere. As usual we didn't see much but then you go for the atmosphere don't you?

Some people went higher than others to see over the hoards in front.

Bin and done that.

We met our good friends Muna, Richard and the girls too - flying along on their Bikies no doubt training for the Olympics in 12 years time. Wonderful

Aara in training. [my fav snap of the moment ]

In The Rak with Baaba Maal.

Back in the old days, many years ago when life was good, everything was cheap and music was brill, Grenville, with whom we were staying near Richmond in Londinium, recorded a single with his punk band The Cut-outs. Gren was working on Swap-shop at the time as a set designer but they were short of a band. Being a muso in his spare time, he put together a band and they played a set on the show - with a fab backdrop designed by himself and paid for by the show. The other band  was something like the Monkees and they played with a black backdrop because Gren had spent all the money on their own set. Like you do.

Mr Grenville Horner. Post-punk period.

The set went well, and they got a call to sign for some record company or other - but they turned them down as they all wanted a life! However, they did get to record a single produced by the great John Leckie at Rak Studios- owned by Mickie Most .

Last week, while we were in London, Gren got a call from his mate John to come along and be an audience at the studio for a recording with Baaba Maal, the Senegalese musician with his friends and performance poets Lemn Sissay, Zena Edwards and others.

We went. Brilliant! like being in some parallel universe. Young men in tight trousers, beautiful young things in African dress, musos and tech geeks twiddling knobs.

John Leckie introduces.

"More reverb on this one". "Loose some on the low end". No idea what they were on about but the results sounded brill. We drank the free drinks and nibbled the nibbles too whilst they caressed our ears with music and words. Loved it. I even shook hands with the great Mr Maal. How good is that?

I sneakily took some snaps while they were setting up. Slow film and a loud camera did not help :-)

Back

. Congrats Messrs Wiggins, Burke, Clancy, Kennaugh, Thomas, Hoy,  Kenny, Hindes and Princess Victoria - Olympic golds and Worlds records too. And not forgetting Mr Froome who got a bronze. More to follow I am sure:-)

Grenville awaiting the Men's road race. Holga-ed

We are back.

This....

I shall be back in a week or so.....

The road to Phabail Pier

For those in trouble

See those whitish marks on the images? Look in the sky, you can see them there best. Ah yes, you see them now don't you. Eh? It's patina of the image. That's what I call it anyway. Comes from using badly stored out of date film. I used to have a stash of Perutz film that exhibited the same effects from time to time - but I only had paid three brass washers for them so that was ok. And I loved the results that emanated from it in the pinhole camera.


Art; but not as you know it.

I'd been hankering for an image of somewhere not too far from here for a while. A few weeks ago I shot down there when the mist was hereabouts and exposed a bit of film at 'it'. Only thing was, on developing the film the other day then printed it up in t'darkroom, I realised it was my 'patinated' film inside. Was I mad? Yes as it happens. Or perhaps no. Disappointed really. Yes that's it. Serves me right. 'Being' there is always going to be better than imaging it. No doubt the weather will be just lovely again today [it is as gaze outside] and this particular image making will have to wait till I return from away - when the image-making conditions will be just perfect. Until I get back. Again. I know what I'm talking about anyway.

 Phabail Pier

Not to be dismayed, the patinated film was loaded into the pinhole camera and off I went to Point to see Alex, my work colleague. Yes, I have to work you know - even though I am off shift this week as it happens. Down on Point there's a fine old pier - often used by yoof to jump off into the sea on  hot days [1 day in every 5 years or so]. See, there it is. All weirded up on account of my incompetence. 

I even walked to one side and shot another frame. You can see that one below. Good isn't it?

Phabail rocks

It is a rather nice place by all accounts. The rain started to gently fall, I thought of Steve Dilworth for some reason, [check this out NOW! ] and retreated to the horseless carriage that conveyed me there. But not before the world started to fall over. I went home. [and later out to work!!!!!].

The world falls over.

Then I went home.

At home again

Yay. Brits Tour France; well.

Random cyclist in patriotic kit.

Welll, would you believe it. Mr Wiggly Braggins won the Tour de France with his GB run team compatriot Christopher Froome in second. Eh? How did that happen? Mr Cavendish won the last stage [again] as well as two others and all is well in the world of GB cycling.

Well done Bradley, Christopher and Mark plus the rest of the riders in the team at the race not forgetting Dave Brailsford and Rodney Ellingworth, the latter Mr Cavendish's coach and the team's tour de force. [Obviously, Rodney's visit to The Butty Bus in Leverburgh earlier in the year did the trick].

No, I don't do landscapes. Or colour. But I do do colour landscapes. Apparently.

 Near Ullapool I

Near Ullapool II

I must have had a light head or something. Or maybe it was seeing the Dalai Lama that did it. The colour film was loaded into some old point and shoot cameras so I pointed and shot. Colour eh? What's that all about then?

I am scribing this while the good fellows of the TDF are doing their last days proper racing. Looks like there maybe a Gb rider wining - and second - and several stage wins too. Who would have thought that? Not me but I am so very proud of them.

I have a new friend

 Ginty and Mrs Bac Pharmacy do their thing

 Large feet

Fun family

I have a new friend although she probably doesn't realise it yet. Ginty was messing around in her field with Mrs Bac Pharmacy atop and Mr Bac pharmacy running around in front. What was all that about I thought? Sauntering over, camera tucked under my arm, I ventured a 'hello'. 

Why not? I know them, sort of. Seen Ginty eating her oats or whatever she eats. Or licks. Might be succulent Horse Licks; seen those for sale in Bac Pharmacy and was tempted to buy some just to see what it was. I didn't mind you. Have you seen this stuff? Uncle Jimmys Licky Thing. What all that about?  Mrs Bac Pharmacy thinks I'm bonkers and talks too much anyway! Instead, I feigned interest in some cream or other then bought it and left quickly.

Mr B-P shot off after a while, pretending work or some such nonsense leaving me to walk around the field place with Ginty behind and Mrs B-P atop. Ginty is very happy to follow behind someone walking but less keen on going alone - with Mrs B-P on-top so to speak. Lovely horse mind you. Very whatever horses are. You know, licky I suppose. And kind. With big hard feet and everything.

But Ginty is my friend even if she doesn't realise it. Yet.

What you get when you find the beeswax you forgot you had

Brazilionised Print

I was wandering in a daze round our warming room, now sadly vacated by dear Mr Pushhkin, when I espied a pot with a small block of beeswax therein. No, it''s not from my sisters 20 hives [although not for the want of asking ! ] but bought some time back. I love the smell of warmed wax. Fair thrills the cockles or something. Think it may hark back to the days when I used wax everyday in my job of tooth-maker - and now I am no longer chained to the bench the smell of proper beeswax is thrilling.  Did I not tell you about me tooth-making? Good, not going to either.

Waxing a print is such a lovely process. The smell, the hands on feeling, the warmth, the sheen, the patina and everything. Yes, I have done it before. See here for details. Eh? No, go and look before you read on. Not sure how much it enhances the print but who cares? 

It's all about the getting there that counts Eh? 

Now go and listen to this [magical no less]. I'll wait.

Feel better now? I do. I shall go for a stroll in our continuing sunshine now :-)

Roads. Hereabouts.