Even without my camera I’m very probably more of an observer than participator in life. My policy on dealing with some situations and of course photography are pretty much covered in a definition of the noun observer: spectator, onlooker, watcher, looker-on, fly on the wall, viewer, witness, eyewitness, bystander.
It isn’t necessarily a good trait, but handy for photography. Incidentally, being an observer doesn’t make me devoid of emotion, I do feel the suffering of others. My reactions to some situations just differ slightly from what might otherwise be expected. Believe me, I can be self obsessed and totally anxiety ridden at times. On the other side of the coin I can detach myself emotionally from life events. I suppose it’s what might be described as a coping mechanism. This will all come together by the end, or maybe not. To be honest I’m never totally sure as I sit down to write these blogs where exactly it is we’re going. Ah, the suspense. Is it going to be yet another meaningless ramble or a literary triumph? I suspect you already know the answer to that, I’m still very hopeful it’ll be the latter, okay a slight glimmer! Either way this blog is a vehicle to display some of my photography, the photographs included in this post were all made during June either on holiday or at the Shaw & Whitley Queens Diamond Jubilee Party. I simply try to write down my thoughts, feelings and diarise my life. In this one we’re talking about observing and as air travel is so much in the news I thought I’d combine it with my observations from a recent trip. It’s more of a cautionary tale for anyone thinking of travelling abroad this summer. If you’re not having a summer getaway I suggest you just look at the photos and move on to something far more interesting.
I try to manage my emotions when it comes to those certainties in life, death and divorces. Hold on, isn’t it death and taxes that are supposed to be the only absolute certainties. Okay, in which case I admit to being emotionally disturbed by taxes. I still get a little upset with the other two, but I seem to be an observer of those feelings that should floor me and they pass with less intensity. I worry that I’m under emotional at times. Especially when I compare myself to other people who often react or overreact, they do so in a way that I believe has been led by their emotional education being derived from watching television and films. It’s as though they’re playing a role in a soap opera of their own making, acting out emotions as directed or taught. Social Media is also creating over emotional types. It goes without saying, but I’d better just in case: No offence is intended to the “over emotional community”! It’s as though they feel a right to be totally outraged and demand an apology whenever someone doesn’t agree with their point of view, they decide to ‘cancel’ someone or something when it doesn’t go with their way of thinking. They’re unable to float past any of it, very immature and we know following any argument on Facebook pretty quickly someone will be compared to Hitler.
Anyone following the news lately can see that the status quo has been severely unbalanced. Covid, Ukraine, inflation, mass shootings, fuel costs, travel disruption, strikes, nuclear winter and the pending environmental catastrophe. My policy on all that is to observe with acute interest, slightly detach myself and then let it go, the only real alternative is for someone to find me rocking myself in the corner of a room…or more likely a Bar.
Anyway, apart from preventing yourself from getting too down with current affairs, or getting all existentialist, being an observer is surprisingly useful when standing in airport queues. We had a family holiday on a Greek island last week. The U.K. bashers, and there’s a lot of them, will bemoan the current chaos in our airports. I can announce that Britain is not alone in the world of travel disruption, it’s universal. Travelling is a means to an end, it has always been a pain. We all hate being herded and ordered around, but nowadays we’ve got to be ultra keen to visit a destination because the herding and waiting has reached fever pitch, you’ll need to keep your cool.
I will quickly add that in the last six months I’ve also travelled to the UAE and to the US without any issues whatsoever. This trip was a different experience. We had a very early flight out to Kos from Bristol. The airport was absolutely packed, it’s been a few years since I flew from Bristol, I can’t recall ever seeing it that busy. Despite the crowds we went through check-in and security reasonably easily. The aircraft took off more or less on time. Take that Britain Bashers. To a very grateful minority (more than you might imagine) and Bristol Airports eternal credit there is a smoking area once through security. I don’t know why other airports can’t do this, they want people through security as quickly as possible and yet prevent many doing so because they’re cramming in last cigarettes outside. My friend Kev and I were bumped off a flight at Heathrow because we were slightly late going through security a couple of years ago, we ended up on a later flight to New York instead of scheduled trip to Chicago. Anyway, it makes for a much calmer experience for the “Nicotine Addicted Community”. We’re of course free to eat stacks of chocolate, cakes, pastries and drink ourselves into oblivion once we’re on the other side of security. Again, no offence to either the “Alcoholic Community” or the “Massively Overweight Community”, none of my business what you do, I’m happy if you’re happy. What I will say is that I haven’t known anyone go home after smoking one too many cigarettes and beat up their partner, but can’t say the same for alcohol, yet it’s absolutely fine once through security, it is actively promoted, though smoking is punishable with at the very least death, you might get away with having a hand cut off. I drink and smoke, all in moderation of course, along with the cakes, chocolate and pastries I’m more than happy to eat. There were a few that it couldn’t be said were moderate in anything they consumed and easily spotted taking up almost two seats on the plane. Sam had to try and squeeze herself next to a nutritionally challenged person on the flight back. She struggled even though she’s practically invisible if she turns sideways. Luckily I didn’t have to, my seat was next to Louis, although that can be a challenge all by itself. I’m not judging this person, but it’s a little unfair and inconsiderate to fellow passengers in my opinion.
If I was to light up a cigarette mid-flight there’d be absolutely hell to play because I wasn’t being considerate to others, plus I’d receive a very hefty fine. I was sat thinking about this when the cabin crew announced that there was a person on board that “has an airborne nut allergy and therefore we must insist that all passengers do not eat anything whatsoever that contains nuts”. I thought they we joking to begin with. Then I decided that it would be awful if that person bloated up and died on the plane simply because someone ate a Snickers. Imagine the guilt of having killed someone else just because you couldn’t stop eating, it would be unbearable. The same applies to passive smoking now I think of it. Hold on a minute, if you’ve got such a severe allergy then why are you travelling with three hundred people in an enclosed space in the first place. Bloody selfish when you think about it. I observed, none of this made me feel overly emotional. I didn’t have the urge to have a fight on the plane, abuse my fellow passengers or the cabin crew.
Before boarding this return flight we had to deal with the chaos at Kos. You know when you arrive at an airport and can barely get through the doors you’re in for a bumpy ride and that’s before the plane gets airborne. Some passengers are going to be exhibiting “unexpected turbulence”, better strap yourself in. You’ll have seen those taped lines they create where you shuffle along like a kind of giant human snake, slowly slithering up and down without getting very far until eventually you reach the check-in desks. Those desks are only ten feet away as the bird flies, but we’re going on a route that covers half a mile. Up and down we crawl, at some points I’m fairly sure we’re further away from the check-in desks than when we started. The taped lines were full and completely stationary, the snake was dead. Three airport officials were attempting to create a holding pattern by shoving everyone down to one end of the terminal, a giant hoard awaiting to join the snake once it began moving again. Meanwhile they missed the other departure entrances and so hundreds of travellers were making another queue of their own for the snake and joining if it showed signs of life and moved. The hoard watched in disbelief. I think some had been standing in that mob for half an hour or so. Some very hot and frustrated people, the holiday was done, they just wanted to get home.
I’m just watching all this, I can see some people looking very panicky, a little light headed and at the same time others who were about to explode with anger. Neither of those two things are going to help, you have to accept it. Many years ago I would have been amongst them. Our three airport officials realised that an unauthorised hoard was gathering, leapfrogging the @real_hoard. That was once the couple of hundred lemmings waiting at the end of the terminal were screaming that others weren’t joining the back of their throng and making their own. Nothing makes people angrier than when they follow rules and others totally ignore them. Hey, we’ve got Boris Johnson as our glorious leader you’d think we’d be used to it. The three airport employees made a new official secondary hoard that was beginning to stretch out of the building into the hot greek sun.
One guy was really getting angry, protesting at the three officials. She explained to him that there were just three of them attempting to control a thousand people. He was livid, how dare them treat him in this way and why haven’t they got more staff. I suggested that perhaps he’d got into the wrong part of the airport and those special people that travel by private jet had a separate entrance. It turns out he wasn’t a multi millionaire and just one of us lemmings. The official laughed and there was a gentle titter amongst those nearby. Anyway he went on and on until they capitulated and allowed him to join the snake thus bypassing the two hoards. I’m travelling with one of the most logical people on the planet who examined the situation and declared that we’d just do the same, ignore the looks of disbelief from the other lemmings. I was thinking that myself. Just as well because the snake took an hour to eventually slither it’s way to check-in. I have no idea how long the hoards were hoarded. The belt that carried luggage at check-in was broken, jamming for five minutes then restarting briefly. Our friend who thought he was catching a private jet started again and announced that it was bloody typical of Greece. I can assure you that he’ll be saying the exact same when he arrived back in England and probably demanding that the army be called in to deal with it. That seems a popular cry from these types lately. They need to lighten up, take a leaf from the book of Pippa, the chair of the Jubilee committee, keep cool, have a pint and it’ll all be fine.
Arriving back at Bristol I was doubting that our luggage was even with us on the plane. We made our way to baggage reclaim. Guess what? Hoards of people waiting for suitcases. I’m familiar with long waits at Bristol Airport for luggage, I have no idea why it takes them so long there. An announcement came over the speakers that the baggage handler apologised for the delay and the cases would soon be there for those who’d travelled from Palma. I found out that they’d already been waiting for an hour and a half. We were there for just over an hour, only a dozen people remained from our Kos flight. By the way, the Palma people still waited, wow, they were up to nearly three hours by then. Regular announcements assured/lied to them that it was definitely on its way. I went to a baggage office and asked if it was likely that there wasn’t anything left to be unloaded from our flight, maybe lost in transit. Was it possible to return at another time to claim it. Surprisingly there’s a form, fill it in, come back when you like to collect it. That’s a really good option and one to keep in mind for the future, after all who wants or needs to be waiting three hours for what is potentially a case full of dirty laundry. I’ll finish there, but must point out that this wasn’t during the school summer holidays when it’ll be really busy. Just saying. You’ve been warned. Learn to observe. don’t get too involved or attached. Keep Calm. Don’t Panic.
We had a good holiday. I tend to get bored after a while at the beach or pool. The “logical one” knows this and so at least we had a break to get a bus into Kos Town. I wanted to see the tree that Hippocrates sat under 2,400 years ago. It’s still there, well, I suspect only parts of the roots. My friend Kev will be happy to learn that yet again it’s a Plane Tree. That’ll mean nothing to you, but he’ll rest easy in that knowledge. The rest of the time we relaxed, drank, ate, some of us smoked and tried to avoid judging other people.
Fortunately we have a moderator with us. I can’t begin to tell you how calm and happy she is. She reads, observes and takes it all in. Actually it was quite telling in the restaurant when the local cats walked around ignoring everyone, after all they are above us all. I was reminded of that quote from Terry Pratchett: “In ancient times cats were worshipped as gods; they have not forgotten this.” Apparently the cats knew exactly who they were dealing with, as anyone will tell you they are extremely choosy. Often gathered right by Amélie’s feet or sometimes sat on her:
I’m going to finish up now. I’ll leave you with a few photos from our holiday and the Jubilee party. Also a poem that was written by Amélie aged 12 years and entered into a competition. The winners, only two chosen from her school of 1,200 students, are being published in a book. It will be in the British Library and therefore her name and poem will be there forever. Evidently a better writer than her father, we already know that her mother is a far better photographer than me and her brother better looking. I can’t observe that, just get jealous and brood!
Here’s the poem and right on message with this blog. I can assure you that was purely accidental because I have only just found out about it:
Society by Amélie Harper
Society is stereotypical,
Boys mustn't act 'feminine' otherwise they're homosexual!
Define being 'feminine', is it wearing dresses and being graceful
Or is it hating the way you look no matter what? This is disgraceful!
Women are always being told, "Don't wear so much make-up." Then they say, "Make an effort.
And I am not forgetting the men, society always tells them "Don't be emotional."
Let them wear their hearts on their sleeves,
Society, you're the one who needs to make more of an effort.
And what of appearance and body shapes?
"You're so skinny." "Eat more." They say,
"You're so fat.” "Eat less," they say,
All of this needs to stop!
Also, don't forget about the racial side of this,
The only difference really is our skin colour,
So why are dark and light people being seen differently from one another?
Why are stereotypes a thing?
Will they ever stop?
A few shots from Greece I quite liked. There’s hundreds of photos, I don’t think anyone need to be punished any further, especially if you made it to the end of this blog:
and from The Shaw & Whitley Queens Silver Jubilee Party:
As always my sincere thanks go to anyone taking the time to read this blog.
All images can be opened by clicking on the thumbnails and are made using a Leica M with Summicron 28mm Lens fitted.
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