Gertsamtkunstwerk

Old photos short stories: Mountains of Mojácar

I think we were away for a week, but managed two trips into the mountains. One by the local service bus to the village of Mojácar - technically we were staying at Mojácar Playa. There is a reasonably informative Wikipedia page about the area but it seems to omit plate tectonics. My half-remembered vague understanding was that an earthquake (I think - might have been a volcano) in relatively modern times had changed the topology of the land, and this seemed convincing when seeing the plains from the hilltop. The village was pleasant enough if dull, the expected range of decent eateries and tourist souvenir shops.

 

One morning we went on a 'blanket tour'. A free coach trip into the mountains (what mountains? where? I can't remember, this was 2002, I wasn't keeping a diary! Although, I've spotted Sorbas on the map and this rings a bell, so maybe it was there!). The downside was having to sit in a lecture about the benefits of the Mediterranean Diet, and an attempt to sell us merino blankets and shoe inserts - hardly an imposition, and not like the hardsell of Time-shares.

 

Old photos, short stories - Mojácar

Oddly, my first ever visit to Spain wasn't until 2002. I had had my digital camera for over a year but was still thinking like an analogue photographer. Only the previous week I had taken delivery of a new PC - Windows 2000, I think -  to replace the one that had been running on Windows 95. I could find no photo editing programme that worked with Windows 95, and the PC didn't have the facility to burn CDs for back up.

Many of the photos I took were of Jimmy (or he took of me) working our way round the bars, restaurants and ice cream parlours of Mojácar, in Almería, south east Spain We went on two excursions into the mountains, and also to Granada, which I shall blog in due course. But we spent most of the time round and about the town.

We stayed in a lovely apartment block. Although we had only booked a double room we had a two bedroomed suite (no photos), and the complex included a few shops, a bar and a swimming pool (didn't use it). We had arrived late at night and the tour rep had suggested we turned right to find an English pub that served food. We turned left to find a Spanish place where I remember getting a filling & delicious fish soup. I later discovered that the English pub was much more of a walk, and would have stopped serving food by the time we arrived!

Unfortunately, we had the worst possible neighbours, an extended Irish family. We often spotted them round the complex, or around town, the adults palatic by lunchtime, the kids bored stupid and running around inside when every other kid in town was down on the beach. We were there during the World Cup, broadcast during the day from Japan and South Korea. When England were playing, the hotel laid on a big screen, and face painting for the kids, and this lot were pushing their way to the front, demanding Irish flags. At night they were noisy - but fortunately, we were generally drunk, so slept through all but the worst of their fighting. They left before us, and we had a peek into their apartment where the chamber maids had a Herculean task of restoring what was a wreck!

A pity, because there were several other parties we met from time to time to have pleasant inconsequential chats with, and they, like us, had deliberately chosen a resort that was less lary than some of the better known places.

We also ventured to the nearby fishing village of Garrucha a couple of times. Slightly bizarrely, when we were enjoying coffee in a pavement café we realised that the bloke at the next table lived on our road. He was waiting for his girlfriend - they had taken a year out to live over there, but were planning to return to Brixton. I never saw them again, so I guess they liked it so much they stayed.

Old photos, short stories: Nottingham University Campus

Ultimately, I chose my University because its campus looked lovely in snow. It snowed on my Open Day and I was smitten. It wasn't that great a department for my subject (Politics). Staid, small and right wing, focusing almost exclusively on Western Europe and the USA, with just Soviet & Eastern European Politics outside that (I did that module in 1987-88 but deferred the exam until 1989, thinking that not much would change in the interim, oh woe!)

Recently I had a chat with a friend who attended Durham University at about the same time, and admitted that she still hasn't been in Durham Cathedral. We agreed that we wasted our student years. I went into Nottingham often enough, for entertainment, shopping, drinking, transit, but never went to the Trent (except to cross it on the way to Nottingham Forest's ground). And, given I was living on such a glorious out-of-town campus, I feel ashamed at how little advantage I took of it. Walks, if not to lectures, tutorials or the library were to the Portland building or to other Halls. Occasional boating expeditions on the glorious lake. I suspect that I 'went for a walk' less than half a dozen times and probably only twice on my own. 

        

 

I still haven't found a boating lake to match the one at University Park. It felt like an adventure, rowing beyond and around the island, the full length. One day there was a Midsummer's Day rock festival; out on the lake in a rowing boat was a splendid way to enjoy part of it.

          
 

I took fewer photos then than now - constrained by the cost of film and developing. And most of my photos were, rightly, of the people I spent my time with. Even so, I am shocked at how few photos I took of campus on my three years there (2 in Hall, one living in Dunkirk, just a stone's throw away). And these are the best of them.

 

Old photos, short stories: Mystic Seaport 1989

When I stayed with my Aunt on Long Island, we caught the ferry from Port Jefferson to Bridgeport Conneticut, and drove about 70 miles to Mystic Seaport, the largest Maritime History Museum in the world. Needless to say I hadn't heard of it, but a few weeks after arriving back I watched and enjoyed the film Mystic Pizza starring Julia Roberts.

We started at Mystic Aquarium, which I enjoyed at the time, especially the performances by performing seals and so on. But I've never felt any desire to visit an aquarium since - perhaps there are certain experiences one only needs once in a lifetime.

 

 

I really enjoyed walking round the seaport. From all these years later I can't now remember much what I saw or learnt, but I'm sure that I learnt many things - some of which added to previously acquired knowledge and some of which was later consolidated by other learning experiences. It was only my second full day in the States, and it was really my first opportunity to 'see America'. In the end, what you remember about a place is the space and its big features, and it was a very pleasant day.

 

Photos taken on film, on a cheap camera, and scanned many years after P&P.

 

 

Old photos short stories: Long Island 1989

My father was the fourth child of six, with five sisters. My grandfather was a senior Civil Servant and they were evacuated to Blackpool for World War II. Blackpool was where US Airmen went for R&R, and Auntie No.3 married a US Airman and became a GI bride. She settled on Long island New York, although in the 80s she moved to Florida- like many New York retirees but also because my cousin and husband were settled there. He worked in Miami and I have a feeling that he might be from that area. Aunt No 4 also emigrated to the States in the early 60s, also settled on Long Island and now lives in Florida. Just after I finished university, I went with my mother and brother to visit her.

At the time, very few people I knew visited the USA, except relatives and people doing American Studies at University. It still annoys me now when people say "Oh you've been to New York? Oh gosh, so have I, where did you stay, what did you visit?" and they're awfully put out that you stayed in a residential area towards the East of Long Island, and, among other things visited relatives and friends, as if they were sole proprietor copyrighted of tourism in New York!

We also did some excursions, into the city, and a coach tour to Niagara, Washington DC and Philadelphia, but here are a few snaps,taken round my aunt's retirement condo complex.

 

Random photos of American  flags (sadly, a hostage had been murdered in Lebanon just as we arrived).

 

And beach and coastal snaps

     

I'm wearing a t-shirt (Nottingham University Drama Festival 1988) in the final picture because I was playing in rough waves and soon found that the force of the water throwing me to the ground tended to remove my bikini top! Great fun - once modestly attired!

These photos were taken on film and scanned from paper prints.

Old photos short stories: Harwich

Many years ago we took a long weekend, over Easter, and stayed at Harwich, specifically at The Pier. I was really impressed all that time ago. Some acquaintances went more recently and were also impressed, and recent Trip Advisor comments shows that the quality remains.

We were less organised in those days, and too easily tempted into daytime pubs. And I was less profligate in my photo taking.

Our hotel room looked out directly over the Pier and we could spend time watching the comings and goings of a fairly busy small harbour. A few years previously I had spent an afternoon working at the passenger ferry terminus, on a trip from Felixstowe. That terminus is a strenuous walk from the town centre.

 

Harwich is in Essex. We caught a small ferry from the Ha'penny Pier across the River Stour to a place called Shotley, which has a marina, and lies across the River Orwell from Felixstowe. The peninsular on which Shotley sits is like a tongue in a mouth, the lips being Felixstowe and Harwich. Felixstowe is Britain's largest container port, and, I believe the second biggest in Europe, after Rotterdam.

We didn't venture far from the Marina.

 

When we crossed back to Harwich, a large container ship passed by and caused our little ferry to rock. 

 

Old photos, short stories: Niagara Falls

I have had two three week holidays in the USA. In 1989 I went with my mother and brother, and stayed with my Aunt. In 1999 I went with a friend. On both occasions I went to Niagara Falls. The first time on a coach tour. The second time, we flew to Buffalo-Niagara airport, caught the local bus to Niagara, NY, USA, and walked to Canada. On both occasions, I took more photos than on any other day trip to one attraction in the days of film - I take more on digital now, but there isn't a marginal cost to taking a photo as there was with film!

This is a slightly unusual blogpost in that I haven't bothered renaming most of the photos, so the "Alt" text is just a strange number. And there are so many photos I thought it worth setting up an entire album and posting most there!

But I thought I would post a selection of my most favourite here.

 

More photos in Niagara album

Old photos short stories: Summer in Snowdonia

August,  A Level year. My father had had a heart bypass earlier in the year, so the 'family' holiday was booked for not far away, North Wales. A chalet park, owned by Hoseasons, and, naturally some distance from any wild hedonistic seaside resort. I'm not sure but I think it was Ogwen Bank Country Park, miles from the corrupting decadence of Caernarfon, Bangor and Llanfairfechan. 

The parents remarkably acknowledged I was an adult, so I was allowed to stay at home for half their holiday. I travelled by train from Altrincham to Bangor, changing at Chester, and they met me in Bangor, shielding me from the tempting seediness of its hectic nightlife.

It rained.

We went up Snowdon by train (no photos), because my father was not yet fully recovered. It rained

    

 

It rained.

One day we went to a slate quarry. It rained. Probably the most interesting slate quarry I have ever visited, twice. It rained.

 

 

One day it didn't rain, so we went to look at the David Lloyd George museum in his childhood home. We gazed out over Cardigan Bay from outside Criccieth, obviously avoiding the town centre because of its disreputable dens of iniquity.

I don't remember spending any of this holiday on the beach. 

Old photos short stories: A teenage holiday in Argyll

So many people have written stories about their childhood/teenage family holidays, and I am sure I could write a whole book of my memories. Suffice to say that, by the age of 17, you really don't want to be going on holiday with your parents, especially when your parents are old-fashioned, and absolutely want to avoid doing anything that inferior people would do, or that a teenager might like, or indeed acknowledge that a 17 year old is not a child. 

We stayed in a 'lodge' on a Hoseasons Park 'near' Dunoon. It still exists and now has facilities that might appeal to a 17 year old and a 10 year old. Back then, it was just a pool table and table tennis table. It rained a lot. Yes, it was August, but it was the West Coast of Scotland. I say it was near Dunoon, but the parents never stayed in a resort - and you'd be really pushed to call Dunoon a resort back then. It's one thing avoiding Skegness or Tenby, but Dunoon?

Back then, I had a Boots 126 compact camera: obviously, I have subsequently scanned those photos. Given the limits of the technology, I'm actually quite pleased with this collection!

    

 

 

It has struck me that the brother is exactly the age there his son will be when school breaks up. 

Old photos, short stories: Maria La Gorda

In the far west of Cuba's Pinar del Rio province, across the Yucatan Channel from Cancun. When we visited, Cubans were not allowed to visit, except to provide lifts for visitors such as us. Beautiful beach.

  

Old photos, short stories: Viñales

Viñales valley in the Pinar del Rio province is a Cuban National Monument and a UNESCO World Heritage site. Before European settlement, the area was the home of a remnant Taíno population swelled with runaway slaves. 

We visited in December 2001, enjoying the mogotes or rocky outcrops, formed by rocks such as limestone dissolving around them.

 

We took a boat trip into a cave (not a great photograph, on a basic point-and-shoot, but it tells a tale.

I had a ride on a buffalo called Thomas!

Old photos short stories: Havana

We visited Cuba for Christmas 2001 and the New Year, as 'independent travellers'. In Havana we stayed in someone's spare room and took time to explore this extraordinary city, capital of an extraordinary country.  I was not so trigger happy with my camera as I became in later years. For example, I didn't take one photo of the 1950s 'Yank Tank' cars that you see so many of and are an instantly recognisable symbol of Cuba.

 

Old photos, short stories: Crystal Palace Park

Crystal Palace Park is about 4 miles from my house. I went there once with my cousin, in 1989, on the eve of a Big Job Interview (I got the job). I went again with Jimmy in 2001. The boating lake was closed.It is historically important and a 'major London park', probably the only one that features a Dinosaur Trail (not pictured).

We have attempted to return on two occasions. One coincided with the London Schools Games, an event similar to The Olympics. On the other occasion, there was a heavy rainstorm, contrary to the weather forecast.

My previous 'old photos, short stories' inspired a return trip to Jersey. Perhaps this can inspire a return trip to Crystal Palace Park.

Old photos, new stories: Gorey

We caught the bus from St Helier to Gorey and walked back. 

After walking for several miles, we were still a long way from St Helier. We found a pub; they directed us to a restaurant a mile or so away. We ate a lot of food. And took a taxi back to our hotel.

Old Pictures and Short Stories

Over the years I've dallied with concepts such as 'Daily photograph' and 'On this day', but they've all petered out. Largely because my life is quite complex. Not amazingly so, but there are so many things to do, or I'm not in the mood. 

Even so, I thought it would be nice from time to time to revisit the past.

Such as, a long weekend in Jersey in 2001. Just weeks after I had acquired my first digital camera. 

It was the first time Jimmy and I had been away together (after eight months together) except for weddings. Odd things, weddings. Less said the better, in all honesty. 

We stayed in the Merton Hotel in Jersey, within reasonable walking distance of St Helier. Amazing swimming pools. Indoors included a water slide. Outside was heated, so on the last day, which was quite cold, overhung and with drizzle, it was great to lie in the jacuzzi. Especially because almost everybody (Jimmy included) had decided it was not the weather for outdoor pools.

I really liked Jersey. We ate some good food in good restaurants. We were less experienced with fine dining then, but I think we'd still approve of what we ate. The Jersey Museum was interesting, especially in respect of the Nazi occupation, and the town was a pleasure to walk around.

And I saw this rather amazing toilet seat in a restaurant.

 Actually, this isn't a short story. But it sets the scene for future short stories.