From Yorkshire to Mayfair: A Tale of Generations and Light
January 2024 has proven to be an interesting month weather-wise, somewhat damp, as my grandmother would have described it. Her words often echo in my mind; she had a saying for every occasion, hailing from a more stoic stock shaped by wartime experiences. I've always admired that generation. She used to recount stories of bombs dropping and reminisce about the bomb shelter tucked away in the garden. When my father fell ill as a baby, they opted to hide under the kitchen table rather than seek refuge in the damp shelter when the bombers came.
Residing in Yorkshire, Gran hailed from Woolwich, while Grandfather, a Yorkshireman, served at the Royal Artillery Barracks in Woolwich. Despite living elsewhere, she retained her Cockney accent throughout her life. Our occasional visits to London always stirred a sense of excitement.
As January drew to a close, an opportunity arose to visit London again, this time for a camera workshop in Mayfair.
Over the past year, we've journeyed through Bremen, Berlin, Poznań, Kraków, Prague, Vienna, Graz, Salzburg, Munich, and Luxembourg City. However, it had been several years since my last visit to London. I recall a memorable trip for my 40th birthday, meticulously organised by H, who excels at surprises. Yet, I struggle to recall subsequent visits, though surely there must have been some.
Boarding the train at 5:30 am from Downham Market, it was quiet and only a few people climbed aboard. I traversed through Cambridge and arrived at London's Kings Cross within an hour and a half. The station by contrast was busy, bustling with activity, and I couldn't help but notice the £20 fee for a photograph at Platform 9 3/4.
The station's impressive new roof caught my eye, prompting me to capture a photo before descending into the underground for the City. The tube proved less crowded than anticipated as I journeyed to Oxford Street, which left much to be desired. The streets were marred by dirt, littered with rubbish bags, and plagued by aggressive begging. Swiftly returning to the tube, I headed for Westminster, planning to stroll passed Parliament and through the park towards Mayfair.
The ambiance improved significantly in this area—fresher , with more cyclists, and a relaxed atmosphere. Passing by Parliament and pausing to admire the traditional imagery and intriguing avian migrants, I eventually arrived at the Leica Academy. A modest yet impressive establishment, exuding professionalism and warmth, with staff who were a delight to interact with, mirroring the quality of their products.
The morning session proved enlightening as we delved into the intricacies of the Leica System. Lunch, though I couldn't quite identify the cuisine, was palatable.
Post-lunch, the workshop transitioned outdoors to explore light pockets and reflections amidst the streets of Mayfair—a truly captivating experience. It was a session dedicated to street photography, a genre I've previously written about in another blog.
As the afternoon wound down, I made my way back to the station, boarding the train homeward. I began with a quote from Gran, and so I'll conclude with another of her adages: "If you've nothing good to say, don't say it." It's a principle I've endeavoured to uphold in all our content. Regarding London, I'll simply say it felt good to be back in Norfolk and leave it at that.
Thank you for investing your time in reading this article. The photographs I took throughout the day are on this link https://www.helenandmartinsmotorhometreks.uk/london
If you prefer video check out the link below.
Best wishes and safe travels,
Helen and Martin
