I’m not sure that the good Greenwich borough resident Inspector Sands will be pleased with the description of his site as being “dedicated to life in Lewisham”.
This is where I grew up, at the base of the Ochils.
One from the archives: a view from the top of the Wallace Monument near Stirling in Scotland.
Still working my way through the backlog
Two things are changing the way we take photographs: the minimal costs associated with each digital shot (no film, no developing, only printing if you want to) and the growing ubiquity of mobile phones with cameras. The old restrictions on how and where you can take photos are going to struggle as this interesting article points out:
[via Digital Photography Blog]
Well, we’re in our new Holborn offices and everything’s working. In fcat, I’m all unpacked and ready to get down to work, which is a shame because I really didn’t think I’d have to work today.
It’s been something of a movie weekend. After a couple of disappointments recently – we must be the only people who enjoyed the Spider-Man sequel less than the original and King Arthur was decidedly average – I’m happy to report that we were delighted both times.
On Friday night One Woman took ourselves off to see The Bourne Supremacy, which was great fun. The film sucked us both in and didn’t let us go until we emerged into the Docklands night a couple of hours later. It’s a really relentless watch, with the story barely pausing from the moment it gets underway. Great stuff. I really hope they go on and do the third books as well.
The only complaint I have about the evening was the feeling in the cinema. Normally, we go to the UCI Filmworks out on the Greenwich peninsula, but I fancies having a drink, so we went to the UGC West India Quay. My, but the people there were stressed. There was an edgy tension about the crown that made queuing at the concessions stand and waiting for the film to start positively unpleasant. I don’t think we’ll go there on a Friday night again.
On Saturday we treated ourselves to the 2 DVD edition of Master and Commander: the Far Side of the World. Over two hours of 19th Century seagoing glory. Barely a hint of land. BArely any women, and certainly no romance. A barrel-chested English hero with a passion for the sea and a love of classical music. How could I not enjoy it?
And they did it without Americanizing it. Will wonders never cease?