Sorry, no diesel
I walked past Blarney Autos this morning and clocked the “SORRY NO DIESEL” sign on a car blocking the diesel pumps there. The fuel protests have been rumbling on around the country for days now, refineries are ringed by placards, and the knock-on is landing on forecourts like this one. It doesn’t help that roughly…
The Most British Office in London
Someone chose to put two Union Jack armchairs and an exercise ball in their office window for all of London to see. I spotted this walking past an office block and the arrangement stopped me mid-stride. The chairs are proper wingbacks, upholstered in full flag regalia, flanking a slightly deflated-looking exercise ball that’s doing its…
Shandon Above the Shopfronts
Cork’s Pope Quay packs more character into two hundred metres than most cities manage in a mile. I was standing on the south bank with the River Lee between us, drawn initially by the sweep of that pedestrian footbridge. It’s a clean, modern arc that sits surprisingly well against the jumble of modern, Georgian and…
Rain Won’t Stop the Mascletà
Fist in the air, beer in the other hand, in defiance of the rain that had been hammering down earlier. This is Las Fallas distilled into two men and a moment. I caught them mid-chant on one of the streets near the Plaza del Ayuntamiento. The man on the left had gone full traditional, with…
The Bookshop Pigeon
A pigeon had taken up residence in the Dubray Books window on St. Patrick Street, wedged comfortably between Michael Palin and a Lonely Planet guide which is frankly better taste in travel literature than most of us manage. It sat there among the carefully arranged display like it had been hired for the job, unbothered…
This Car Is Protected by Fluff
A Hyundai sat brazenly on the double yellows outside Dunnes on Drawbridge Street, and behind the wheel, well, behind the steering wheel at least, sat this absolute unit of a security detail. Blue jumper on, mouth open, eyes locked on mine like I’d just tried the door handle. The owner had clearly nipped into the…
The Invisible Shift
A street cleaner with a bin bag in one hand, framed between a STOP sign and a no-right-turn sign. You couldn’t stage it better. I shot this from Drawbridge Street, watching the lunchtime crowd flow past him like water around a rock. What struck me was the contrast: dozens of people mid-stride, shopping or wandering…
Golden Hour at The Roundy
Late afternoon sun hit Castle Street at just the right angle and turned the whole scene outside The Roundy into something cinematic. The outside area of the pub was packed with people drinking and enjoying the afternoon and soaking up the kind of Cork sunshine you never quite trust to last. The lens flare flooding…
Watching the World Go By in Málaga
A narrow side street off the tourist drag in Málaga. A man waiting, watching nothing in particular on a cool January afternoon. I got one frame off on the phone as I passed. No time to compose properly, no time to think about the empty chairs cluttering the left side of the shot. Just tap…
K67: A Relic of Slovenian Design in London
It’s impossible to miss this kiosk. A bright yellow box parked outside Spitalfields Market, looking like it had been teleported in from a 1960s sci-fi film set. This is a K67 kiosk. It’s a modular street unit designed by Slovenian architect Saša Mächtig in 1966 and one of the most successful pieces of street furniture…
Iron Bones
I nearly walked straight past it. You’re on the South Bank, dodging cyclists, and there’s this railway bridge overhead that most people treat as a ceiling to hurry under. But look up and the underside of Blackfriars Railway Bridge is a riot of riveted iron girders fanning out like the ribs of some enormous mechanical…
Two in the Market
I caught this one from barely a metre away. It was close enough to count the grey in his beard, close enough that the glass roof of Spitalfields Market softened into geometry behind them. It was early in the morning and the market was still being set up. I wonder if they were tourists in…