The other week, me and Sophie took a trip to my old hometown, Bradford. It was mainly for my niece’s first birthday get together, but I also wanted to have a look around the city centre, as I’d not seen much of it for years and years.
Being the old melancholic fool I am, I decided to try and document my trip back, and re-visit old haunts and generally potter about taking photos of my old stomping ground.
Little did I know, however, that the EDL were also planning one of their pathetic little marches through the streets of Bradford that day… So we arrived in the afternoon, all glorious sun and high spirits, to be greeted with the sight of a pub full of racist scumbags shouting horrible things to a barricade of policemen.
A bit disheartened at first, it was actually great to see so many Bradfordians ignoring their drivel, and getting on with their lives. We even saw a few mums chatting away to each other, over the race divide, and generally coming together in spite of this horrible sight. That really made me think how amazing this place, and people in general, can be sometimes.
Bradford’s been battered and bruised over the years, mainly from poor planning, over-development and under-funding, but there’s always been a sense of just getting on with things here, and it was that kind of spirit I wanted to try and capture with the few shots I eventually managed to get from my trusty Suprema.
Anyway, this shot is actually my favourite from this set - I love how in spite of everything that was unfolding that day, these three chaps are just sitting by the fountain, in the sun, chatting. Perfect.