Road trip part I

When my godfather died three years ago he left all of his belongings in his will to me, my siblings and my dad - 10 people in total. Initially we had all of his antiques and art valued with the intention of selling, only to realise that we wanted to keep most of his stuff in the family. Fortunately dividing the items up and choosing who got what was remarkably easy, and in January me and my sister A, who lives in LA, went over to Stockholm to start emptying the flat and pack up the stuff that we were keeping. It was right at the time of the LA fires, and A didn’t want to bring any of it there, so she decided that she would go back to Stockholm in the summer, hire a car and drive everything down to her house in the south of France instead. She asked me to join her on a sisters’ road trip, with all the hotels and evening meals booked by her, as an early 50th birthday present for me. I can tell you now that I couldn’t have wished for a better gift! That week that we spent together gave us memories for life and for that I’m eternally grateful. A did the drive in six days, through four countries, all on her own, as it was too expensive to put me down on the insurance as well. The lady is a frickin’ powerhouse I tell you! She’d done most of the planning of the trip, which made a change from how it usually is when I travel with family and friends; I’m the one who does all the research and am in charge of finding where to eat, what to look at and where to sleep.

The majority of the days were taken up by driving, and then not really spending more time in each place than arriving, checking into the hotel, going out for dinner, staying overnight and heading further south the following morning. The longest of all drives was the first one, six hours, from Stockholm to Helsingborg, a city in the south of Sweden, which neither of us had been to before. There was a lovely walkway along the sea that took us to our restaurant that evening, and there were lots of people just hanging out, making the most of all the public seating, and the fine weather. Some people also photo bombed…

Pretty much all the food we had on the whole trip was really good. We had amazing sea food at Sillen & Makrillen, basically on the beach. Awful view, right?

On the way back to the hotel we walked through the older parts of town, as little granny here (me) wanted to check out the local architecture. Someone decided to photo bomb again (her).

Hello, how cute is this house? It was recently for sale, and you can have the tiniest of sneak peeks here.

We ambled along as dusk arrived, and I loved seeing the mix of it all, including this guy.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know, let’s go check it out.”

Turns out Kärnan is a verrrrrry old fortress tower from the 1300’s (although it was most recently restored in the early 1900’s). To get up there you walk up the Terrace Stairs…

… which lets you see Helsingborg from up high. That mass of land in the distance is Denmark.

Even though we were only there for about 15 hours, it was our favourite city of the whole trip - a pleasant surprise, in spite of waking up to a parking ticket in the morning 🤦🏽‍♀️

In the shadows

Giacometti shadows.

Giacometti sculptures.

These guys have made their way from being on display in Tate Britain many years ago, to The Tanks in Tate Modern. They were previously exhibited in far too big a space to do them justice, but here it works so well. The play between the dark and the light is perfect, making the shadows just as good as the sculptures themselves.

6 from the 6th floor in the 6th

Found myself in Paris for a day this summer, in a stranger’s apartment filled with mainly strangers, during sad circumstances, but still full of joy. Weirdly being that high up felt comforting. Maybe the 6th floor of a building is the perfect height to be in, not too high, but high enough to give a different view of the world.

3/4/25

I’ve got such a huge backlog of pictures I don’t quite know in what order to post them, and as a result I overthink it, and then end up not posting at all. I then, surprise surprise, keep taking even more pictures, and so I’m in a perpetual loop of adding more to said backlog. I reckon I just have to perhaps post by mood, rather than chronological order in order to let my pictures out loose in the wild. So here’s some pictures from a day in April, in the order I shot them. I’d given myself and Art Day™️, seeing a Munch exhibition (underwhelming) in the morning, and then heading south to Bermondsey to see Theaster Gates at the White Cube Gallery. As I came out of the train station at London Bridge this reflection caught my eye.

I really like Bermondsey Street, where the White Cube is, and the walk there is always such a pleasant one. There’s a few Georgian houses there, and walking southwards I liked seeing the little miniature gardens up above.

This colour combo also caught my eye a bit further along. They clash in the nicest way, if you can call it clashing at all.

Remember how I was unsure of the tighter 50mm lens on my new camera? Well, we seem to be getting on just fine, and I haven’t felt the need to get a wider one. I like how much more graphic the pictures become with less width.

Just outside the gallery now, happy to catch this.

As I entered the receptionist sat with her head down, and I originally took a picture of just the top of her head sticking up, then waited a sec, and suddenly half her face popped up. Click. I smiled a thank you.

The Theaster Gates was good, a bit different from stuff of his that I’ve seen before, so I was glad I went. It was then time to head back home; I retraced my steps and walked northwards. This orange wall is part of the exterior to the Fashion and Textile Museum, which I’ve weirdly never been to.

Nice colour drenching going on here.

So many questions about this window, so many why’s.

On the way back the painted wood work stood out, rather than the pots that I took a picture of earlier. Such a great red and beautiful yellow, and all the better for being next to each other.

Admired the brick work on this facade. Looking at it now I’ve made it mysterious for myself. How much of the facade was bricked this way, all of it or just a small section? I could check on Google Street Wiew and find out right now, but I think I’d rather just look out for it the next time I’m there, and answer my own question.

On the train home, now at Blackfriars Bridge, a train station that is on a bridge (oh really, you don’t say), bridging the Thames. If you look closely you can see Tower Bridge in the distance.

‘Is it creepy taking pictures of people’s hair?’ I asked myself here. Is it?

And is taking a picture of a person minding their own business somehow not? Best not to overthink it.