Sunday, 17 April 2011

Regent's Canal, off Regent's Park, 11th April 2011

Not the most tumescent balloon, but at least it was floating on a fetching smear of colours. It was another sunny afternoon in a glorious April, but the clouds grew as the day passed, from small puffy heaps to looming grey towers, and the rain inevitably followed. Stormy summer rain though, not the featureless sweeps of drizzle that sap the soul.

Denmark Hill, from 68 bus, 9th April 2011

A hot spring day and a hot bus home, too hot to be comfortable anywhere other than flat on my back in the garden, which was still a long way from here. This blue dodged crowds and cars and provided temporary respite from tedium on the journey, but the stifling traffic and miles to go made it a brief joy indeed.

Damrak, Amsterdam, 2nd April 2011

Not one of the prettier parts of Amsterdam, and scarcely a surprise any more to see an orange balloon, but everything's a joy in that city, and it had been a balloon-free March, so this was doubly pleasing. The place has never let me down, for balloons or anything else. Bliss.

Monday, 28 February 2011

Regent's Canal, west of Islington Tunnel, 27th February 2011

Another waterbound blue, the other side of the tunnel, about the same distance from the exit as the previous was from the entrance (the way we were headed anyway). You can't walk through the tunnel - perhaps it was literally strewn with blue balloons and I saw just the outliers.

Regent's Canal, east of Islington Tunnel, 27th February 2011

Another Sunday, another stroll, another balloon floating in a waterway... this was adorned with white 5s so I guess some child of 2006 enjoyed it in its pomp. Trapped between barge and quay and matching the former with flair, I enjoyed it too.

Tuesday, 22 February 2011

River Thames, from Thames Path near Charlton, 20th February 2011

A fittingly grey scene for the last of the eastward mosey. We were headed for the Thames Barrier, which spans the river between silvered pods that looked futuristic in the 80s just to the right of this shot. No angle for inclusion presented itself, though, so the drab block on the other bank has to suffice.

Four in one day is pretty rare, but I don't often venture to this side of town, so perhaps it's not too unusual round here. The prevailing wind would certainly dump the city's free balloons this way, as would the ebbing tide. That could explain the glut, or it could just have been pure chance. Next time I come this way I'll have a better idea.

River Thames, from Thames Path near Greenwich, 20th February 2011

It's all true. The marketing people at Gap took one look at the site visits for this blog, then drove a truckload of money up to my flat, with the balloon. "Put it where you want, just make sure you can see the logo", they said, scooping great wads of £50 notes into a sack on my doorstep.

Not really, they'll never know or care. Anyway, it's either an old or a very new balloon: they changed their logo at great expense over the new year, but hadn't realised that so many people loved the old one (or hated the new), and reverted back to this at doubtless substantial cost a week later. I imagine balloons printed with the short-lived replacement logo will fetch a tidy sum from short-lived logo balloon collectors in a few years.

River Thames, by Greenwich Pier, 20th February 2011

And there's the next easternmost. I've never known pea green be the colour of lovers, apart from the Owl & The Pussycat, so unlike the last I suspect this is a random. It was a very grey day and even this small splash of colour was a rare treat, so I waited a short while to see if it would drift any closer to complement the algae-stained walls. Alas it remained obstinately distant while my friends got more distant themselves, so I contented myself with a wide shot of the monumental buildings of the Royal Naval College (which, I found while looking up what they are, is apparently a UNESCO World Heritage Site - my my).

Monday, 21 February 2011

Borthwick Street, 20th February 2011

There's usually something of a glut around Valentine's Day, but this year I thought had passed without a sighting. And then these. I was on a long, grey and industrial walk eastwards along the Thames, unfamiliar territory, and these fitted the scene perfectly. Quite how the white survived the metal gate being closed on top of it I don't know, I can only imagine its deflation left it flexible enough to yield rather than resist. The decorated red was bound by ribbon to its pinned companion, and could go nowhere with the white so secured.

It had been a barren couple of weeks since the last, and I was delighted to see these, my most eastward in the UK at the time. I wasn't expecting the eastmost record to be broken three times in the next two hours.

Monday, 31 January 2011

From Richmond Hill, 30th January 2011

It had been the first bright clear day for a while, so we'd been out tramping the park enjoying the light and the first bright hint of spring, then watching the sun set from the pub best placed to watch it that I know. Thin high clouds caught the last rays and I was taking photos anyway when a friend pointed this one out to me as it headed oddly westward against the spectacular sky.

The tags caused some musing. Aloft it was, but it was almost certainly not black, although in that light against that sky and from that distance any photon of hue hit a rod not a cone, and a dark silhouette it remained. And sunless or not? The sun had a few minutes before sunk below the spinning world, but that tag is meant for the night, so no. A fine day indeed when those are its major wrangles.

Ledbury Road, 28th January 2011

The first of the year, and a stroke of luck and good timing (although I suppose they all are). The small children toddling off into the distance here brought this balloon, and the older of two dropped it as I approached. As has been the case before, the mother marched on, smaller child in tow, while the dropper looked at the balloon forlorn then back at her departing family, and decided to leave it and trot after them. I was waiting for that.

It was evidently a balloon shape when the child acquired it, its numerous wasp-waists testament to a twisted past. No doubt a professional balloon shaper could forensically identify its former form from those spacings, but I have no such skill, so will never know.

Thursday, 30 December 2010

Haydon's Road, 24th December 2010

A fleeting glimpse, this, although in the heavy traffic fleeing London for Christmas, "fleeting" is less frantic than the word usually implies. We still had to slow to ease the shot, though, a backwards twist from a side window and a wild snap as we departed.

Trinity Square, Toronto, 23rd December 2010

I was home in London on this day, but Luna was far further from hers, snowbound but still snapping in the cold north of the western hemisphere. Thanks again! This is much more what I had in mind when I craved snowbound balloons, so it's a pleasure to add it to my own gritty ditch in the winter's haul. This is how it happened:

"I'm here until the 5th of January with my Dad visiting his brother who had a bad fall. Today I went exploring on my own, something that is not such a safe thing to do in Trinidad, so understandably my Dad was worried. But with the understanding that Toronto is fairly safe, I set out to find Trinity Square to walk the Labyrinth. I found it easily enough and as I was halfway through the labyrinth, the wind picked up and within a whirlwind of brown leaves was a blue balloon! I had to re-focus and concentrate on finishing the labyrinth, thinking of my Uncle and sending positive energy to him. Then I ran (well, gingerly stepped) across the snowy walk, to find the balloon. There he was, a bit deflated but ready for his close up."

That's some good ginger stepping. Thanks again, hope your uncle's on the mend!

Friday, 24 December 2010

Borough Market, 22nd December 2010

The snow still clagged pavement edges and the parts less trodden, but it had been trampled away elsewhere, and Borough Market could never be described as one of London's less trodden areas. These three were snagged in one of the market's metal arches when I arrived at a favourite pub, and I had ignored them for that. But despite the chill air I was waiting outside for a friend, it being too crowded inside to make meeting easy, and as I watched one of the bitter gusts unsnagged them and they drifted still bound to the ground.

The truck in the background was collecting rubbish, and I trotted over pint in hand in haste fearing they'd take these too. But bins were emptied and these ignored, so I snapped at my leisure, pausing only once to permit a perplexed pedestrian past.

Leighton Road, 19th December 2010

Be careful what you wish for... when I talked below of balloons in snow I envisaged a far different scene to this, but it was still a joy to see it. Winter had set in cold and hard, and the weekend had seen prodigious snowfall that all but paralysed the roads and rails, even in London. By this time the main roads were clearer though, their snow reduced to dirty slush piled deep beside kerbs and in gutters. I was returning home from a fruitless eleventh-hour dash central for presents, which was rescued by a warming and convivial couple of pints, and this frozen yellow warmed me even more.

Friday, 10 December 2010

Off Elgin Avenue, 10th December 2010

A rather grubby urban shot this, in the same pub car park as one I still hold up as the grubbiest. It's been a long wait for one of my own, after two gifts, and one sooner would have probably meant a prettier scene too: the last two weeks has seen London's leaf-strewn tarmac alternately wearing a layer of snow or a sparkling, brutal frost. I've never snapped a snowbound balloon despite the last few years bringing surprising settlage, and I was hoping the latest cold snap would end that sequence. It still might, of course - there's a lot more winter to come.

Saturday, 20 November 2010

Dunelm Mill, off Brighton Road, Shoreham-by-Sea, 19th November 2010


And another gift, and I'm all the more grateful for them in my current barren run. While the last basked in Caribbean sun and was cushioned by lush grasses, this is more familiar, rolling around on wet autumn concrete. The email began, "Do you still want these?". Oh yes.

Dunelm Mill, by the way, is a large home shop, of whose fabrics and countless cushions I've heard reverential and frequent talk. I've likely sat on their wares unaware, too, given my mother's fondness for the place. Whether the balloon was theirs or a blow-in, I'll remain unaware of as well.

Uriah Butler highway, Trinidad & Tobago, 16th November 2010

And another from the distant tropics - incredible, and pinpointed perfectly too. Thanks Luna! And here's how:

"I was on the northbound lane of the major highway on our island (the one which runs north to south). As I approached the vicinity of the Caroni Bird Sanctuary, I noticed a blob of pink, silver and white, bobbing its way across the three southbound lanes. I managed to make out the face of a cartoon character, Dora perhaps, as the balloon reached the 12" median. Of course, I was driving at around 90km per hour and could not stop to see the balloon's fate, but curiousity and the promise of a photo-op got the better of me and I exited the highway at the next off-ramp. I crossed the highway and proceeded back in the direction I came until I could exit at the next ramp to end up heading north again. Yes, I was laughing at myself, but hey, it would be worth it if I got the photo. As I neared the median, I put on my hazard lights, but 'she' was nowhere to be seen. So I continued along, then there she was!!! Not to my right, in the middle of the highway, but to my left, having made her way across three more lanes of speeding northbound traffic to settle in the overgrown grass, bobbing up every now and then as if to peep at me. After I pulled the car to the shoulder, and spent few minutes snapping her photo, I realized she looked more like Snow White than Dora. Maybe Snow White was an explorer too!"

A frankly heroic effort! London's tangled crowded streets scarcely permit 9kmph, never mind 90 - the thought of turning around is fantastic. I burst out laughing at my desk and it cheered me the rest of the day, and still does. In a dark wet cold and turbulent city far to the north, that's very welcome. Cheers!