I broke the valve stem off one of my bike tyres so visited St Neots for their bike shop (Broken Spoke). While in St Neots I found the High Street closed off for a parade: the local Royal Air Force Air Cadets were being granted the Freedom of St Neots in a ceremony in the main square. I had a look at the officials and the audience.
On my way through town I noticed this couple on a bench; that could be me before too long . . .
And here is a happy announcement, seen on the side of the road in the middle of the countryside:
You have about 2 minutes’ warning on our street when one of these highly powered polluters is approaching. They whistle occasionally, but it’s the sound of the wheels, rubber covers barely effective at muting the trundle, that tells you a steam traction engine is not far away. And although the smoke is probably much worse than most diesels on the road, the sight and sound of these machines are balm to the soul.
Again, Cambridge is a great place to find photos, even while you’re engaged on errands of any sort. I had to visit for an eye test and heard this chap playing the piano on the top floor of the Grand Arcade. He sounded very good . . .
Then down to the opticians, where they were not ready for me so I wandered around the market (again). The “gig economy” is in the news again, so I found it interesting that these three Deliveroo riders were at a loose end, if only for a short time.
And there was this quite dandyish individual running a flower stall.
A wander around the smaller streets not far from King’s College or the market often yields interesting scenes.
Finally, on my way back to my car, here were two players of the piano; they weren’t as good, but they were having fun. Note the single-buttock perch.
I visited the Algarve last week, flying from London Luton on the 0625 departure to Faro. That’s early, but there were plenty of people, travellers and workers in the cafés of the departure area of the airport.
I visited my mother in the countryside, taking her to places that she cannot easily access; she liked Praia da Faro, not far from the airport, on a beautiful day.
A portrait at post-prandial coffee in Olhão, a fishing port on the Atlantic.
Olhão is a fishing port with a small fish market. It was being cleaned at about 3:30 in the afternoon.
Tavira is a Roman town straddling the river. There was an accordionist busking on the Ponte Romana.
My mother eats frequently at a small restaurant/bar in Moncarapacho. Here some locals are preparing to eat flaming chorizo, presumably after it has gone out. It was a very cheerful prospect . . .
The surround countryside is very quiet in places. This neglected tractor has been there for at least 12 years . . .
We’ve had a misty or foggy week, pretty similar to the previous week, but now it’s getting serious: flying is out of the question when the visibility is this bad. And this old bird has been grounded since the 1950s, as I understand it. I flew Hunters, single and two-seat, as part of my training, and I’d love to see this one fly again – preferably with me at the controls . . .
I had another visit to London a couple of days ago, this time on the occasion of a reunion – to see old friends and colleagues after many, many years. Again, London provided plenty of opportunity for different photos:
And here is the scene at the venue for the reunion: a former bank is now a pub with a large ground floor – plenty of space for a group of friends and colleagues to reminisce. We’ve known each other for many years; the beer was good, the stories better than ever.