Glastonbury at dawn. Thin mist peels slowly from rheumy slopes, stealing sheepishly through tents, between the toes of dormant revellers. Tottering across a grassy car park, the actor Denzel Washington tries to eat a flapjack.
As I gaze across this tranquil landscape, silent apart for the muffled throb of distant beats, my mind is a temple of clarity. All the voices dissipate into a ocean of calm, leaving one pure and essential question: should I have ordered that extra roll of 44" Hahnemuhle Photo Rag for the print lab before I left?
Wednesday, 28 June 2017
Thursday, 8 June 2017
Sue Pandasandwich is on holiday again again again again again again again again again again again again again again again again again again again again
Sue Pandasandwich is not really dead! I just went to Chester.
As you will no doubt be aware, this web page is not only concerned with photography, it is also a crucially important document of all the old stuff I've seen on holiday.
See:
http://suepandasandwich.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/don-simon-vs-don-garcia.html
http://suepandasandwich.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/security-boy-defends-ancient-cinema.html
http://suepandasandwich.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/toilets-holding-up-13th-century-church.html
Chester is one of the most ruined cities in all of Europe.
The Roman Amphitheatre
Roman infrastructure at the Roman Amphitheatre
The East Entrance to the Roman Amphitheatre
Alien
Old bicycle rack (not Roman?)
Amphitheatre 2 outer wall (replica)
Possible early shrine (replica) at the Roman Amphitheatre
Column base (replica) at the Roman Amphitheatre
"When he saw the blood, it was as though he had drunk a deep draught of savage passion. He fixed his eyes upon the scene at the Roman Amphitheatre and took in all its frenzy... He watched and cheered and grew hot with excitement at the Roman Amphitheatre. He barely even thought about his breakfast."
Mad person
View of the exit of the Roman Amphitheatre
Looking back towards the Roman Amphitheatre
Partially uncovered mosaic (replica)
A thinly veiled threat
The elevated prison near the Roman Amphitheatre
Tuesday, 4 April 2017
Sue Pandasandwich is dead
Today I went on a day trip to Dover, a smallish English town in Europe, WHICH IS WHERE I LIVE. Dover has often played a critical role in England's history, and in the UK's relationship with the mainland. It is also of course the point of departure for most of the trips I have written about on this blog. Because you can't get on the ferry in London, can you? No, you have to go to Kent.
I felt drawn here, the day after Theresa May finally signed the UK's suicide note. I used to come here often to sit on the cliffs and watch the ferries coming and going. Sometimes I would get on the boat as a foot passenger (three quid on Sundays) and go for a coffee in Calais, then come straight back. Just because I could. It's about thirty miles to France from here, and you can usually see the French coast clearly. On a breezy day you can even smell the onions.
Today Calais looked closer than ever, but of course the truth, from now on, is quite the reverse. And the same goes for the rest of the mainland, not least Spain: where I get my sliced meats; Italy, where I get my Prosecco; and Germany, where I get some of my colleagues. Something fundamental has changed. Something terrible has happened. This is the saddest day.
Calais used to belong to the English. Rodin's sculpture The Burgers of Calais famously depicts the year-long siege of 1346, when the locals survived only on beef and cider. Calais was England's last possession in France before it was finally driven out in 1558. Fifteen years later, in response to an argument with a small Huguenot, Henry VIII ordered Dover's giant cliffs to be built, as a defence against potential attacks from across the channel. Over 500,000 people from Kent were needed to raise up the great chalk edifices. Nowadays people think they're just part of the natural coast, which is laughable. How would they get so big on their own!!??!
In the 2011 census, Cliff was the most common name given to children whose parents were UKIP voters, which says it all.
Anyway, the spirit of European openness has always run through this blog, but unfortunately the UK has upped anchor and set sail for oblivion (somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic?). Therefore, dear readers, it must come to a close.
What a shame, what a stupid fucking shame (the UK leaving the European Union, not the end of the blog)
I wish I could have taken some good pictures to finish with, but these will have to do. My heart wasn't in it.
sorry about the vignetting I am not a professional
I felt drawn here, the day after Theresa May finally signed the UK's suicide note. I used to come here often to sit on the cliffs and watch the ferries coming and going. Sometimes I would get on the boat as a foot passenger (three quid on Sundays) and go for a coffee in Calais, then come straight back. Just because I could. It's about thirty miles to France from here, and you can usually see the French coast clearly. On a breezy day you can even smell the onions.
Today Calais looked closer than ever, but of course the truth, from now on, is quite the reverse. And the same goes for the rest of the mainland, not least Spain: where I get my sliced meats; Italy, where I get my Prosecco; and Germany, where I get some of my colleagues. Something fundamental has changed. Something terrible has happened. This is the saddest day.
Calais used to belong to the English. Rodin's sculpture The Burgers of Calais famously depicts the year-long siege of 1346, when the locals survived only on beef and cider. Calais was England's last possession in France before it was finally driven out in 1558. Fifteen years later, in response to an argument with a small Huguenot, Henry VIII ordered Dover's giant cliffs to be built, as a defence against potential attacks from across the channel. Over 500,000 people from Kent were needed to raise up the great chalk edifices. Nowadays people think they're just part of the natural coast, which is laughable. How would they get so big on their own!!??!
In the 2011 census, Cliff was the most common name given to children whose parents were UKIP voters, which says it all.
Anyway, the spirit of European openness has always run through this blog, but unfortunately the UK has upped anchor and set sail for oblivion (somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic?). Therefore, dear readers, it must come to a close.
What a shame, what a stupid fucking shame (the UK leaving the European Union, not the end of the blog)
I wish I could have taken some good pictures to finish with, but these will have to do. My heart wasn't in it.
sorry about the vignetting I am not a professional
If you look really carefully at the above picture you will see a tiny black disc in the shrub near the bottom-left of the image. This is my lens cap. I dropped it, and it rolled down the hill, bounced up and somehow hung itself on the branch, like a Christmas bauble. I know it doesn't seem like much, but it really was one of the most unlikely things I've ever seen. So I didn't want to remove it before snapping.
Thursday, 22 December 2016
Sunday, 21 August 2016
A man with two brothers and their dogs
Look closely you will see a man and his two twin brothers and their dogs cycling along the esplanade.
Pannacottas - updated
Some pannacottas and non-pannacottas I have made. Sorry for the shit resolution will update with better ones when I do.
Roundabout
Here is my friend Constance Craving (by Helmut Lang) in the old town of Pals near Girona. At her request I have obscured her face to protect against unnecessary exposure. Nobody wants to go viral now do they?
Tree arguments part 2
The tree of knowledge knows the way
I waited five hours to see if night brought new meaning to this one. As you can see,
it did.
Birthday and dinner
My friend is 38 today. At his request I have delicately obscured his face as he doesn't want anyone to know who he is before he does. I asked him to reverse the numbers because selfies are always back to front these days for some reason.
Look at all the toilet rolls in this bidet/foot washing sink
This was our lovely restaurant for the evening.
The toilets really left nothing to be desired and the seating could rapidly be converted for bathing purposes
Look at all the toilet rolls in this bidet/foot washing sink
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