• Travel

    Liv­er­pool and Bank

    19 April 2017

    There is no lens wide enough and no string of elo­quence capa­ble of trans­fer­ring the scenic and emo­tion­al expe­ri­ence to one that sim­ply has not vis­it­ed the Unit­ed King­dom save for their pop­u­lar cul­ture sen­si­tiv­i­ty in appre­ci­at­ing films like Sher­lock Holmes or Har­ry Pot­ter.

    Liv­er­pool and Bank in Lon­don, Unit­ed King­dom

    It’s been around five months since I’ve vis­it­ed the Unit­ed King­dom and every con­ver­sa­tion in which I have engaged since my return has been laced with my bla­tant inten­tion to move there one day. After being asked repeat­ed­ly why I’ve decid­ed to do so — my ini­tial response being a shrug and an unex­cit­ing, “it’s just real­ly nice; you have to go there to know what I mean” — I’ve spent the past few months attempt­ing to ratio­nalise this seem­ing­ly tem­po­rary infat­u­a­tion with a place in which I have bare­ly stayed long enough to call my future home. My ratio­nal­i­sa­tion process can be loose­ly trans­lat­ed to repeat­ing the post-pro­duc­tion process for these images around nine times until I’ve felt as though I’ve con­veyed all the pal­pi­ta­tions and tin­gles I felt abroad. And yet, there is no lens wide enough and no string of elo­quence capa­ble of trans­fer­ring the scenic and emo­tion­al expe­ri­ence to one that sim­ply has not vis­it­ed the Unit­ed King­dom save for their pop­u­lar cul­ture sen­si­tiv­i­ty in appre­ci­at­ing films like Sher­lock Holmes or Har­ry Pot­ter.

    Dur­ing our vis­it, we tire­less­ly wan­dered the streets of a sur­pris­ing­ly sun­ny Lon­don. Quite iron­i­cal­ly, my excite­ment of vis­it­ing the Unit­ed King­dom was par­tial­ly owed to the fact that I had con­ve­nient­ly escaped a dread­ful heat­wave back home in Syd­ney. We stayed in the busiest street of Liv­er­pool and woke to the sound of bus­es and the sight of crowds waltz­ing in their fluffy coats and thick scarves. The most pecu­liar part of the entire trip was how seam­less it felt immers­ing myself in the cul­ture. There is some­thing so enrich­ing and cre­ative­ly provoca­tive about the his­to­ry of the build­ings that is both fas­ci­nat­ing and, to some extent, roman­tic. Fun­ni­ly enough, it wasn’t the likes of the icon­ic Big Ben, Lon­don Eye, or Tow­er Bridge, that stood out to me. Much to the con­trary, the most pro­found­ly cap­ti­vat­ing parts of the entire trip were my glimpses of qui­et alley­ways, lit­tle bou­tiques, the move­ments of locals and how they always seemed to have some­thing more impor­tant to attend to, the bru­tal chill, the bizarre tem­per­a­ture change when step­ping out of a depart­ment store, the tight-packed sub­ways dur­ing rush hour, and even the way light danced so dif­fer­ent­ly to our harsh Aus­tralian sun and ever so sub­tly caressed the grand yet intri­cate archi­tec­ture. [Flails limbs at the select­ed images includ­ed in this post.] So here it is, the first part of my trav­el diary, which is long over­due, although I did post about Tate Mod­ern a while ago, which you should check out, too.

    • Hap­py to see you post­ing again, Jef­frey. Xx