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i'm really not a photographer, but i guess i just know what i like.

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The tops of houses in Enfield, London. March 2013.

The tops of houses in Enfield, London. March 2013.

Hammersmith Bridge, West London. April 2013.

Hammersmith Bridge, West London. April 2013.

Looking out onto the river Thames in Hammersmith, West London. April, 2013.

Looking out onto the river Thames in Hammersmith, West London. April, 2013.

Snow covered hills on the way to Sheffield via Manchester, just before Snake’s Pass.
I was in the Her name is Calla van as they had a few January dates in the UK supporting the amazing Cult of Luna, and I thought I’d tag along and sit on their merch desk. The weather had been really bad all weekend, but by the time the van headed for Sheffield, it stopped snowing, so we pulled over to appreciate the view a little.

Snow covered hills on the way to Sheffield via Manchester, just before Snake’s Pass.

I was in the Her name is Calla van as they had a few January dates in the UK supporting the amazing Cult of Luna, and I thought I’d tag along and sit on their merch desk. The weather had been really bad all weekend, but by the time the van headed for Sheffield, it stopped snowing, so we pulled over to appreciate the view a little.

A canal in Sale, Manchester.

A canal in Sale, Manchester.

Manchester!

Manchester!

The last shot I took of my little return to my homeland, this is a little shot of the train tracks at the seemingly always-deserted-on-a-weekend Baildon train station. It was great to head back to Yorkshire for a bit, and even though we had a mammoth 6 hour journey home (due to a flooded line somewhere near Hebden Bridge), it was well worth it to re-connect, if only for a day or so, with my roots.

The last shot I took of my little return to my homeland, this is a little shot of the train tracks at the seemingly always-deserted-on-a-weekend Baildon train station. It was great to head back to Yorkshire for a bit, and even though we had a mammoth 6 hour journey home (due to a flooded line somewhere near Hebden Bridge), it was well worth it to re-connect, if only for a day or so, with my roots.

Baildon train station! Lots of memories of this place… good and bad.

Baildon train station! Lots of memories of this place… good and bad.

Sophie at Robinson’s Sweet shop in the centre of Baildon. At this point, we were heading home after a long (wet) walk from Shipley Glen to the train station in Baildon, but I really wanted to get a snap of this brilliant little sweet shop that has been in the village for literally as long as I can remember. The day that goes, Baildon truly will never be the same!

Sophie at Robinson’s Sweet shop in the centre of Baildon. At this point, we were heading home after a long (wet) walk from Shipley Glen to the train station in Baildon, but I really wanted to get a snap of this brilliant little sweet shop that has been in the village for literally as long as I can remember. The day that goes, Baildon truly will never be the same!

Quite a good shot of the legendary Potted Meat Stick and some bunting in the centre of Baildon, just before we caught the train home.

Quite a good shot of the legendary Potted Meat Stick and some bunting in the centre of Baildon, just before we caught the train home.

When we were walking to Baildon train station, we came across the old Jenny Lane steps, which brought back a lot of old memories.
Back in the very early ’90s, I went to school at Baildon C of E first school here, but after Bradford finally ditched the old first, middle, grammar school tier system, old Baildon C of E (or Jenny Lane as it was always referred to) was bulldozed to make way for some flash new houses.
The steps are still there though, which was very weird - seeing a relic of a time long since gone still going strong, despite their new surroundings.

When we were walking to Baildon train station, we came across the old Jenny Lane steps, which brought back a lot of old memories.

Back in the very early ’90s, I went to school at Baildon C of E first school here, but after Bradford finally ditched the old first, middle, grammar school tier system, old Baildon C of E (or Jenny Lane as it was always referred to) was bulldozed to make way for some flash new houses.

The steps are still there though, which was very weird - seeing a relic of a time long since gone still going strong, despite their new surroundings.

This was taken inside the awesome Sparrow Bier Cafe at the top of town. It’d been opened a while back by Marko Husak, a fellow Bradfordian that I’d met on the gigging circuit via various dates worriedaboutsatan had played in Bradford over the years. Nice chap, and really great pub.

This was taken inside the awesome Sparrow Bier Cafe at the top of town. It’d been opened a while back by Marko Husak, a fellow Bradfordian that I’d met on the gigging circuit via various dates worriedaboutsatan had played in Bradford over the years. Nice chap, and really great pub.

Also on that trip to Bradford, I took a new camera: A Kodak Brownie Cresta 2. It was a little cumbersome at first, and after getting the pictures back after being processed, I can see I need to take more care with it, as most of the shots I took came back massively blurred as I was shaking my hands too much!
Oh well.
Anyway, a few came back looking great though, and I think this one is my favourite. It’s a shot of a fish & chip shop in the centre of town. It’s been there as long as I can remember, and is much a part of Bradford’s inner city landscape as anything else. I can always recall seeing boxes of Irn Bru cans stacked against the windows, peeking through the mist of steam on the glass from the fryer.
I love how chippies like this never really disappear, and whoever you are, there’ll always be a portion of chips or a cup of tea waiting for you.

Also on that trip to Bradford, I took a new camera: A Kodak Brownie Cresta 2. It was a little cumbersome at first, and after getting the pictures back after being processed, I can see I need to take more care with it, as most of the shots I took came back massively blurred as I was shaking my hands too much!

Oh well.

Anyway, a few came back looking great though, and I think this one is my favourite. It’s a shot of a fish & chip shop in the centre of town. It’s been there as long as I can remember, and is much a part of Bradford’s inner city landscape as anything else. I can always recall seeing boxes of Irn Bru cans stacked against the windows, peeking through the mist of steam on the glass from the fryer.

I love how chippies like this never really disappear, and whoever you are, there’ll always be a portion of chips or a cup of tea waiting for you.

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.

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.