Archive for February, 2013

Lunch in Crickhowell with a Fuji X Pro-1 and 18mm

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , , on February 8, 2013 by yammerman

DSCF0528

Today I travelled up to meet my good friend Bob as he traversed Wales on his way west to Cardigan. We’d agreed to meet in Crickhowell and lunch at the Bear Hotel. He sold this prospect to me with the recommendation that they had given his wife food poisoning ten years earlier. I decided to give the faggots a miss.

The desolate landscape as I came up the Heads of the Valleys road might have made a better subject, with its picturesque dusting of snow on the mountains. But you are not getting that because they would be very dull in comparison to these thrill filled pictures of  Crickhowell’s buildings and, if you’re buying that, I’ve also some very reasonably priced evaporated water you may like to purchase.

I arrived a little early for the meet so had a quick stroll around what is a very pleasant small town. A man in a funny hat with a camera is wisely given a wide berth and a wary glance by the locals although I imagine they are quite used to this kind of thing in the summer months. Given more time I might have wandered further afield, but the clock was ticking so I returned to find Bob outside The Bear.

It was good lunch; Fish, Chips and Mushy peas for me, while Bob had the Belly pork. Fine grub it was too with the old fashioned pub ambiance turned up high. We put the world to rights in about 90 mins so sleep easier in your beds tonight.  I then headed south once more while Bob went on westwards .

Here are the snaps taken with  a Fuji x Pro-1 and 18mm then given the Yesteryear treatment in Lightroom.

DSCF0542DSCF0517 DSCF0519 DSCF0521 DSCF0525 DSCF0558 DSCF0555 DSCF0551

Poppit Sands with a Fuji X Pro-1 and 18mm

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , on February 4, 2013 by yammerman

DSCF0465

We went west, this weekend, in a chain of red tail-lights that diminished in length as each pair peeled off to its weekend destination. We were headed to Cardigan to see Paul and Shevaughn, in order that my wife could enjoy a ‘boozy birthday lunch’ on the Saturday while James and I would sample whatever other delights Cardigan had to offer.

Saturday, it turned out, was a fine day and, once the celebrating ladies had taken their leave, Paul suggested we head to Poppit Sands, a short drive away.  The children of the party – made up of James, Elsie and Penny – did not show much enthusiasm for the outing and, with my flute playing not to the standard of the Pied Piper, a ‘sugar buzz’ had to be promised to maintain discipline.  It was a lovely clear day and, with our heads bowed into the biting wind, we chased the retreating sea.

A game of wildebeest and jackals followed, in which David Attenborough’s voice could be imagined describing how a larger group of 7 year olds might have brought down the bigger animal by sheer weight of their numbers.  Intervention was only felt necessary when clubs were obtained from drift wood in order to beat the unfortunate prey.  It was proper fresh air and exercise of a kind that would cure many an ailing soul.

We returned home to await the return of the lunchers.  Time passed as Wales succumbed to Ireland; followed by Scotland to England; and the reading of the football results.  It can be concluded from this that a fashionably long lunch is not just the prerogative of thespians, BBC executives or the French but a tradition also in West Wales.  In the eighth hour since departure, the party returned and, being far too much of a gentleman to go into forensic detail, I will only say that a good time had clearly been had by all.

The following day the tired revelers were in good spirits and we made preparations to head home.  It was only later that the last information James imparted before departure about the Romans’ use of the Vomitorium became significant.  We sped through the winding roads for 45 minutes when a voice from the back seat announced “I feel sick”. There was barely time to wind down a window before a full re-enactment of that old Roman tradition began to take place in the back of my barely 3 month old shiny new car.

To be fair to James, he did get most of it out of the window; I suspect to the huge enjoyment of those following us.  We stopped to clear up the worst of the mess and proceeded on to a service area to wash up.  James, having lost his breakfast, was feeling a little peckish and suggested a burger might help fill the void…..oh. how we laughed!

Images from Poppet below taken with Fuji X Pro1 with 18mm. Tweaked in Lightroom.

DSCF0384

DSCF0482 S0090431 DSCF0474 DSCF0392 DSCF0396 DSCF0398 DSCF0450 S0080428 DSCF0369