ARCHIVE 70 – DRIVING IN TOWN

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Early morning Bristol, seen from upstairs on a double-decker bus; 0650 15 Dec 2011.

This dates back to the time – not so very long ago – before my retirement.  In those days, come rain or shine, five days of every week saw me taking the 6.30am bus to work from the bottom of our road.  Many of our buses are huge double-deckers and, still being something of a little boy, my favourite seat is upstairs, at the front, where there is a wonderful view out ahead.

The little Canon fitted easily into the rucksack containing my lunchtime apple and sandwiches, and my brolly and security pass, etc., and up there in the front seat, looking down into this camera’s bright screen gave a good view of the road ahead, even early on dark December mornings.

Canon PowerShot G11; 3200 ISO.
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About Adrian Lewis
Photographer working in monochrome, colour and combinations of the two - with a great liking for all sorts of images, including Minimalism, landscapes, abstracts, soft colour, people, movement, nature - I like to be adventurous in my photography, trying new ideas and working in many genres. And I'm fond of Full English Breakfasts and Duvel golden ale, though not necessarily together.

26 Responses to ARCHIVE 70 – DRIVING IN TOWN

  1. Malin H says:

    Very dreamy feeling in this one, Adrian… as if you were longing away for something else. (I read this is from before your retirement). 🙂

    I hope you’re fine, my dear friend.

    Like

    • Adrian Lewis says:

      I’m sure I was longing for something else! I used to enjoy my job, but it simply became stressful drudgery, and I used to strongly dislike catching the morning bus down to the city, to go to my “workstation” – my desk and computer.

      Looking back now, over a year since I retired, its almost incredible to think of the lack of personal freedom that I endured in those days, the ongoing curtailment of physical and emotional liberty – 5 days work, 2 days off, 5 days work, 2 days off … on and on with no apparent end in sight.

      But then the end came. I left work on a Friday I think it was, never to return – and that in itself is both a memorable moment, a radical turning point in my life after all – and a source of wonder – wonder that after a lifetime of never thinking that anything but work was there, that it should end so suddenly and so simply – I went out through the office door >>> and my life had changed forever!

      I am fine, thank you, Malin, I’m OK. I feel much more myself these days. Adrian

      Like

  2. Pingback: Cinema seats | Photographic Memories

  3. Sallyann says:

    Ahh, the “cinema seats” … best seats on the bus. 😀

    Like

  4. Meanderer says:

    Wonderful image – with beautiful bokeh – which has a feeling of nostalgia and familiarity for me.

    I’ve always had a complicated relationship with buses. I used to have to catch one – well two – to get to my girls’ grammar school. I was a clumsy awkward child – and quite reluctant to actually attend said school. I was often late for the bus and so usually had to run to catch it as it was about to pull away. So many times I ended up on my a**e with the contents of my briefcase spilled out all over the road. Happy days.

    These days, I take delight in climbing the narrow spirally steps to the top deck – taking my life in my hands as the driver pulls away before one has had the time to reach the top. In recent months I have grinned ear to ear as I have had the front seat on the top deck all to myself. I recently came across an elderly gent who had positioned himself in one of the front seats up top and as I sat across the way from him he confessed to enjoying sitting upstairs to get away from the incessant chatter of the elderly ladies downstairs. I told him I liked to do the same 😉

    Happy days.

    Like

    • Adrian Lewis says:

      I love this, M, this has got to be one of the most touching and human Comments I’ve received! I especially like your second paragraph – its a delightful insight and, having gone by bus to a boys’ grammar school and having not been unclumsy myself, I can identify with it. And yes, the incessant chatter downstairs – too right!

      And happy days seems like where you are at now, which is very good – its very good to see things going well. And thanks for liking the image, too! A 🙂

      Like

      • Meanderer says:

        Ah – kindred spirits with regard to that dreaded cumbersome journey to and from school.

        The clumsiness has persisted in many ways. Just now whilst eating my evening meal I was reminded of falling down the stairs of a double decker bus many years ago with my eldest child – who was almost three – in my arms. I smashed my knee and he bumped his head, and not a soul asked if we were okay. To this day he associates the push button on a bus with my red knee 🙂

        Like

        • Adrian Lewis says:

          I’m enjoying hearing these reminiscences of your’s, my friend. Stopping work is definitely having good effects. I can imagine “not a soul” asking if you were alright, it takes compassion, and some get up and go, to do that. A 🙂

          Like

  5. I always sit in the front – buses, cars, meetings, movies, classrooms, wherever. Must mean something, but what?
    I like the fuzzy, bright lights. 😉

    Like

  6. Robert says:

    There is so much that can be done with night time in the city, on the road, when it’s raining, you picture brings it all together Adrian

    >

    Like

  7. Helen Cherry says:

    Love it… maybe taken on the way to work when you still had to go ? 😉

    Like

    • Adrian Lewis says:

      Thank you, Helen! Yes, taken during the dark days of toil and endless job restructurings … the Dark Ages??? … oh no, they were far more civilised! … 🙂 … I hope you’re fine, and that all is well! Adrian

      Like

      • Helen Cherry says:

        I am fine but tired of the politics of work and constant changes… 😦

        Like

        • Adrian Lewis says:

          Oh, wow, do I know what you’re talking about!!! The majority of people simply want to go to work, do the best they can and go home – but can we manage that? Apparently not. And, quite apart from changing government requirements, every new manager thinks that s/he has to prove him/herself by introducing innovations, and so to constant change. I have certainly been there and done that, Helen, and you have my heartfelt commiserations. Adrian

          Like

          • Helen Cherry says:

            Thanks Adrian.. We have a new manager and the emphasis is absolutely firmly on cutting the budget.. every package of care that is put in is questioned to death and review workers are having to make cust everyt time they go out to review.. They have had people in tears and are finding it very hard indeed.. this is a cruel world that can spend money on killing people in other countries but cannot find the money to give decent care to our elderly… If I could retire now I surely would… but not yet Alas!

            Like

            • Adrian Lewis says:

              I’m very glad – and feel very lucky! – to be out of it all. Two things come immediately to mind. First are the millions spent on Thatcher’s funeral, a really extraordinary thing – but showing that cash can be found if the will is there.

              And then, it seems to me that it is the duty of a government to look after the inhabitants of its nation and, in rip off UK, that duty is being steadily and consciously eroded.

              Look after yourself, my friend, take care! Adrian

              Like

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