No cycling

click photo to enlarge

Several years ago I was cycling with my wife along the along the promenade at Llandudno in North Wales when we were stopped and told that cycling was not allowed. The official who spoke to us was unable to give a reason for the prohibition but was keen to point to the purpose-made signs forbidding the activity. In preparing this blog post I did a quick search to find out whether the town's policy was still in force and I found this photograph on Geograph taken in 2010. The caption struck a chord with me: it included this remark, " ...The prom at Llandudno is so wide you could take tanks down it without getting in anybody's way..." So, I guess, for reasons that must be incomprehensible to most people, cycling is still banned.

At the time we tried to ride there we lived not too far from Blackpool, Lancashire, where we had been used to cycling freely on well-marked lanes next to paths designated for pedestrians. It wasn't perfect, and cyclists and pedestrians sometimes got in each other's way, usually through ignoring the demarcation. However, there weren't, to my knowledge any serious problems and the many miles of the coast that it opened up to people on foot and on bicycles were well used and enjoyed. People's quality of life was enhanced by this simple, inexpensive measure.

But, a recent visit to the small seaside town of Hornsea in East Yorkshire reminded me that, despite efforts by cyclists, health promoters, government and others, not all local councils have got the message that people on bicycles can co-exist alongside pedestrians and it is in the community at large's interest that steps are taken to encourage it. Mind you, if the council responsible for Hornsea promenade had been more enlightened I wouldn't have got my photograph of the bright red "No Cycling" sign against the blues and browns of the distant sky and sea!

I usually allow my computer software to automatically remove the slight vignetting that my 70-300mm lens produces at maximum zoom. On this occasion, however, I quite liked what it added to the photograph so I let it remain.

photograph and text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Canon
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 300mm
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/640
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation:  0 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Photographing on the promenade

click photo to enlarge
"Oh! I do like to be beside the seaside,
I do like to be beside the sea!
I do like to stroll upon the Prom, Prom, Prom!
Where the brass bands play: 'Tiddely-
om-pom-pom!'"
from the popular British music hall song of 1907 by John A. Glover-Kind

It's not often that you hear a brass brand on the British seaside promenade (prom) these days. In fact the sound of a brass brand anywhere is much less common than even fifty years ago. In 1907 they would have been commonplace.

But, whether there be a brass band or not, a stroll along the promenade is always a pleasure, and one that people enjoy these days whatever the weather. On our recent visit to Cromer we walked and cycled along early in the morning and found plenty of other people of similar mind, taking the air, gazing out to sea, and pausing to watch the crab boats being unloaded.

After living close to the Fylde Coast of Lancashire for twenty years I'm well aware of the photographic opportunities that the promenade can offer. In fact, some of my best images have been gleaned in such locations. So, when I looked at this sloping route that connects the various levels of the prom near the pier I thought it would make a good background for a shot of people. I waited a few minutes and took several photographs with individuals and groups at different positions. This one is the best of the collection for the location of the people at the intersection of lines and for the bright spot of red (and green/blue) among the monotone sky and dark surroundings.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen

Camera: Olympus E510
Mode: Aperture Priority
Focal Length: 70mm (140mm/35mm equiv.)
F No: f6.3
Shutter Speed: 1/1000
ISO: 100
Exposure Compensation: -0.3 EV
Image Stabilisation: On

Slower days

click photo to enlarge

When I was a child Sundays were different. People rose later than on Saturday or on a weekday. The streets were quieter on Sundays, not just because there were fewer private cars, but because people used them less on that day. The pace of life was more leisurely. Odd jobs would be done, a grand Sunday lunch (dinner in the North of England) would be cooked, families would sometimes have a walk together, the car would be cleaned. And yes, the bells would ring and some people would go to church. It sounds idyllic doesn't it. I don't think it was quite as wonderful as my pen portrait suggests, but Sunday was, undeniably, a different sort of day.

Then came Sunday trading. Shops were allowed to open between the hours of 10.00am and 4.00pm.. This was accompanied by protestations from church groups, trade unions representing shop workers, and others. But, there seemed to be a desire to shop on Sundays, and so the day became much more like Saturday. Most have welcomed the change. I haven't! I really liked the different, slower, more relaxed quality that Sunday brought. The contrast of this day appealed to me. Going out early in the morning and finding the streets empty and quiet was a real pleasure. It was an opportunity to slow down, take more time over things, and look more closely at my surroundings. But today, for most, that kind of Sunday is either a distant memory, or something that has never been known. I say for most, because something of that Sunday quality can be found at a seaside resort on a cold, winter, weekday morning. There are no holiday makers, seasonal shops are boarded up, and the promenade is quiet apart from the call of gulls. It's an opportunity to view the place in a more relaxed way, without the bustle of people intent on enjoyment, a way that I remember doing all those years ago.

I took this photograph of the bandstand on Blackpool promenade on just such a morning. The cold, blue light of the low sun, the reflections off the wet surfaces, and the empty benches was an appealing sight to me. I composed the shot with the bandstand to the left, and the lines of the steps, benches and railings leading to it. I used a zoom lens at 34mm (35mm equivalent), with the camera set to Aperture Priority (f8 at 1/200 second), 100 ISO, and -0.3EV.

photograph & text (c) T. Boughen