English Wedding Reception- Grimsby

We arrived at the golf club after a short ride from Louth.  The reception was on the second floor of the clubhouse overlooking the course.  There was a lovely view from the deck.


The room was a good size.  There were round tables from one end to the other.  Enough open area was left for a small dance floor and standing at the bar.

The disc jockey set up his equipment at the far end of the room.

He had cases and cases of CDs.  Duct tape was the language he spoke.
  
Blinking lights was the story he told.  

Bulbs the size of those on the beach in Cleethorpes.  

Power Play was his name.

                      

Not that I am saying the DJ was behind the times but at least twice I looked over and thought he was calling the '80s.  Then I realized he was using a phone receiver to sync the CDs.  Seems he didn't have headphones.

My daughter decorated with pumpkins, to tie in the late October date.  She used the pumpkin carving kit I brought over and some black lace stockings into which she stuffed other pumpkins.  She did a nice job.

                     

If you wanted an alcoholic beverage, there was a cash bar.  There was an open bar at the wedding in the US.  The young Brits at that wedding didn't know what to drink first.  They were like kids turned loose in a candy shop and someone shouted, "Free candy!"

Even though there was a cash bar in Grimsby, my son didn't seem to have any problem getting himself a drink.

My wife had a difficult time with her new pink cast.  Don't get me wrong, the color didn't have anything to do with the discomfort.  It was the cast and the pain of the broken bone that were to blame.  The reception was on the second floor of the club house.  The stairs to the reception room had one of those elevator chairs bolted to the wall.  This was much appreciated, as my wife had yet to master the stairs with crutches.

We met family and friends unable to attend the US wedding in May.  We were glad we were able to make the trip to the UK to be a part of this joyous celebration.  I think everyone enjoyed themselves.  I know we did.

The English reception was booked for seven hours.  We were exhausted once back at the guest house.  It was one of those good feeling exhaustions, though.  The kind of exhaustion that takes a load off your shoulders.  Then I realized I had one less child to carry.  She now had a husband with broad shoulders.

©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

Cleethorpes - Kind of Surreal

Man in the Moon display on the beach, Cleethorpes, UK

The location of the English wedding reception for my daughter and her new British husband was in Grimsby, England.  My wife and I decided to look for a hotel or guest house nearby.  Before leaving the US, I did my research on the internet, or the interweb as I heard it called in UK.  I found a guest house not far away in a seaside resort named Cleethorpes.

We booked a room at Ginnie' Guesthouse.  Ginnie's turnout to be a gem.  Our room was great.  It had its own toilet, sink and stall shower.  A large window provided great light.  There was both a double and single bed.  A large wardrobe closet was more than ample for our needs.  Enough electrical outlets for my camera charger and my CPAP.  A modest sized TV with remote and free cable that carried British and a few familiar US shows added just enough sparkle .  Overall our second floor room was wonderful.

That night, we were invited to dinner at my daughter's in-laws and I am not sure if it was the conversation or the pain but after dinner my wife decided to go to the hospital to have a health professional look at her foot.  (See the previous post about her foot)         

It was a week and a day of pain since her fall in London.  She didn't see a doctor before this because she had a fear the doctor's and hospital' bills would drain our wallets.  A visit to the ER in the US would cost at least $400 without any doctors' or X-ray bills.  Without money our stay would be, shall I say, uneventful, boring.  We would all be looking out the window at the canal traffic, Olympic construction and watching Friends on Comedy Central on British TV back at my daughter's apartment until our flight home.  It turned out that with the socialized medicine in UK, if there was no hospital stay we didn't need to pay anything.  Nothing.  Nada.  Free.  Even though we were foreigners.  Thank you your majesty, Queen Elizabeth and all your loyal subjects.

We returned to Ginnie's from the hospital with a plaster cast and crutches.  As we noisily asended the stairs after midnight, with me reminding her that people were asleep, my wife remarked of how her life would be so much easier if we had the first floor room at the bottom of the stairs.  Nonetheless, she clumsily hobbled to the second floor, having never before used crutches, even though she had both knees replaced just three years ago.

At breakfast the very next morning, Kim, the owner of Ginnie's, moved us into that first floor room.  It was a nice room but not as great as the second floor room.  The move, however, did make our lives easier.

Our first breakfast was the full English breakfast that included, fried eggs, two rashers of bacon, two bangers (sausages), a small fried tomato, beans, mushrooms and our choice of white or whole grain toast.  My coffee arrived in a small french press pot and my wife received a hot pot of tea.

Source: Two Guys Breakfast Blog

It was great.  The beans kind of blindsided me though.  As an American living in the NorthEast/Mid-Atlantic region I am more familiar with potatoes and not beans with my breakfast.  Beans are saved for hot dogs or maybe outdoor grilling.  I ate them just the same, thank you.

We didn't get to see many sites around Grimsby or Cleethorpes on Friday, except those along the way to the in-laws house, a few miles inland from the beach.

Steel's Corner House Restaurant

Friday evening we had reservations at a well established restaurant in Cleethorpes, renown for their fish and chips, Steel's Corner House Restaurant.  The menu was not huge but varied and included a few vegetarian entrees.   We narrowed our choice down to Small Haddock and Chips, Medium Haddock and Chips or Jumbo Haddock and Chips.  My wife and I settled for the Med Haddock and Chips with a choice of Mushy Peas or no Mushy Peas.  We opted for the Mushy Peas which are just as is sounds, mushed peas.  The food was great and plentiful.  We were glad we didn't go for the jumbo.  The jumbo overhung the plate and those that ordered it, found it difficult to finish.  A few Carling beers were consumed and dinner went well.

We took a taxi from the house in Grimsby to Steel's.  Seems taxis are used quite a bit in UK, even in small towns.  Whereas, finding a taxi in suburban Philadelphia would be a challenge, to say the least.  The route back to Ginnie's followed along the beach.  It was soon after turning onto Kings Way that I saw the sequentially lit electric display called the Man in the Moon, as seen at the top of this post.  I was struck by its grander, that I had stepped back in time.  It was kind of surreal.

Once back at Ginnie's, I helped my wife to the room and got her settled.  I told my wife I was off to capture some photographs of the illuminations.  I needed to see these lighted works of art up close.

It was only 300 yds east on Queens Parade to Kings Way.  I stopped at the intersection.   Along the beach in both directions I saw several sequentially blinking displays of lights; dazzling lights depicting windmills, seals playing catch with a beach ball, a sailboat and the Man on the Moon, among others.  These illuminations have been around for some time.  You can see some here on YouTube in a 8mm film starting at 7:48, taken in Cleethorpes in the 60's .

Two types of lights were used on the displays.  One type was mini rope lights, the other was large faceted bulbs.  This latter type reminded me of light bulbs used on carnival rides made in Italy I saw in shopping malls in the US.  

Fabbri Group

Those bulbs and their connection to Italy flashed images of Fellini movies into my mind, La Strada, Nights of Cabiria, 8 1/2.  As a matter of fact, the whole town had a Fellini feel; a post WWII carnival feel.  At that moment, I really wasn't sure I was awake or dreaming.  I didn't hear any Italian being spoken or see any females wearing huge hats.

Juliet of the Spirits

Juliet of the Spirits

Actually, I didn't see anyone at all.


©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

The UK A1- Not a Highway by US Standards

Thursday we took the A1 from London to Grimsby, a three hour trip.  Grimsby is on the east coast not quite halfway between London and Scotland.  The five of us were driving most of the trip on the A1.

The A1 is no major highway by US standards.  It was two lanes wide in each direction.  Very small shoulder on the side of the road and the shortest entrance ramps I have ever seen, excepting the eastbound Girard Avenue ramp of the Schuylkill Expressway.

We hired a larger car, by Euro standards.  The car was a Vauxhall with us sitting two abreast three deep.

Here was the seating arrangement.  My son-in-law driving, my 6'4" son beside him in the front.  I was behind the driver and my wife beside me with her bad foot elevated on my left thigh.  My daughter was trapped in the rear behind me along side the sandwiches and drinks, luggage, gown, suits and of course my CPAP machine.  It was a snug fit, by US standards.

©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

Date with the Prime Minister, David Cameron

My wife's foot was hurting again after our day out on Tuesday.  She decided to stay in the apartment and keep her foot elevated.  We left my wife to watch British TV, Olympic 2012 construction and boat traffic on Hertford Union Canal.  My son and I had a date with the Prime Minister.

UK Prime Minister - David Cameron

A few years ago, my son-in-law was a campaign volunteer for a candidate to Parliament.  He kept in contact with a friend he made back then, who is now an aide to an MP.  Every Wednesday at noon in the House of Commons there is an official session called Questions to the Prime Minister during which the prime minister spends half an hour answering questions from the members of parliament (MPs).  Tickets to the Strangers' Gallery (visitors' gallery) for Wednesdays PMQ are the highly sought-after.  My son-in law scored us tickets to this PMQ.

Portcullis House on the right

We needed to enter through Portcullis House, the PMs' office building, across the street from the Palace of Westminster, other wise known as the Houses of Parliament.  

Upon entering Portcullis House we spoke with a receptionist who allowed us to enter.  Once inside we went through a security scanner, were patted-down by machine gun toting officers, photographed and given a photo ID to wear.  

newstatesman.com

We then talked with the inside receptionist who called up to the aide.  We were shown a bench to sit upon while awaiting the aide.  When the aide arrived it was already 11:58 and we were late.  We had to hurry under the street through a tunnel, through several hallways, then outside over a driveway, then back in more hallways 'til me were met by an usher outside the House of Commons.

House of Commons from the Visitors' Gallery
Source:Druid City Press

We rushed up a few flights of stairs, checked my camera bag and my son's backpack just before we entered the visitors' gallery.  Once inside, the usher requested the seat holders move to make room and seated us on the end of the row.


My first impression was, the room was grand but small.  My eyes wandered around the room.  There were seemingly 6" thick glass panels suspended from the beautiful old ceiling to shield us strangers from the MPs.  There must have been some serious structural changes to allow these panels to hang from the ceiling.  They looked heavy.  


The proceedings were full of partisan politics; patting the prime minister on the back, requesting praise for helping constituents and of course attacking the ruling party by the other side.  I almost felt as though I was in a Philadelphia City Council meeting.  I guess all  representative democratic politics are alike, no matter what level.


12:30 arrived quickly and so our date with David Cameron ended.  I don't believe we made any impression on him.  Mr. Cameron, my son and I departed the House of Commons, by different doors, together.  We were on our way to meet my daughter outside Westminster Abbey.  I can only assume David Cameron had something scheduled for the remainder of his day.  


©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

Sightseeing in London - British Museum

Tuesday, we planned our sightseeing around another restaurant.  This time the restaurant offered a buy one meal get the second meal of equal or lesser price, free.  The location of the restaurant was very close to the British Museum.  Guess were we went before lunch?

We entered the grand court and found some folding stools that could be carried through the museum.  My wife sat as my daughter talked of the Rosetta Stone on the far side of the lobby.  Seeing the dramatic architecture, I stood up and wander through the crowd to find some images to capture.  I had captured a few images and walked back to where I left my family.  No one there.  I pivoted from left to right.  I saw no one.  Well, I mean of my family.  Not even my 6'4" son, who should have been easy to pick out in a crowd.  The lobby was packed with students, parents and other tourists making it difficult to pick out my family, even my tall son.  So I started out on my own.  I thought they mentioned the Egyptian room, so off I went to find it. 

I wandered through the Egyptian rooms fighting the crowds and exited near the restaurant at the top of the cylindrical structure in the center of the grand court.  

I captured a few more images and began to walk down the ramp on the right side of the grand court, still looking for good images.

Near the center of the ramp I heard a familiar voice.  There again in the place I left my family, they sat.  My wife's foot hurt.  She was uncomfortable.  She was not happy with my disappearing act.  We decided to eat lunch.

Taste Card

Again, using the Taste Card, we climbed down the steps to the quaint Tea and Tattle.  Traditional Tea for Two costs £23.00 list.  That is close to $35.00 at half price just $17.50.  I settled for a sandwich and desert with a cup of tea.  Sandwiches in London are what I would call skimpy, the prices, however, are not.  Two pieces of bread with one slice each of cheese and meat.  

Primo Hoagies

A hoagie, it was not.

We ventured out onto the streets again after lunch.  My wife's foot really hurt.  She wasn't able to walk 100 yds without stopping to take the weight off the foot.  The two of us split once again from the kids and made our way back to the apartment.  The day out was over for us.

©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

Getting Into Photojournalist Mode

I arrived in Heathrow Airport early Monday morning a blogger.  I needed to start thinking as a photojournalist.  So, before I disembarked the plane, I took my camera, housed in a Tamrac shoulder bag, from the gym bag that was in overhead storage.  I had to be ready for any and all photo opportunities.  I was a blogger now.


I hadn't slept at all on the plane.  I watched one movie, several TV episodes and listened to music.  I must have been too stimulated to sleep.  After the plane landed and the signs were turned off, I stood in the aisle waiting to get into the new BA Terminal 5.  Years ago I watched an impressive TV commercial about this building.  The commercial had seals, rays, whales and bottlenose dolphins swimming in a water filled Terminal 5.  I thought, "It must really be impressive!"



I proceeded to the end of the aisle where the flight attendants stopped me.  The door was open and sunlight was streaming into the fuselage.  "Direct sunlight into the fuselage?", I thought.  Once given the all clear to advance I realized why.  We disembarked the plane via open stairs to the outdoors.  Stairs?!  Outdoors?!  The last time I disembarked outdoors was in 1977 when the frozen finger at JFK was unable to connect to the plane.  We had to use the inflatable escape chutes and slid to the snow and ice covered Tarmac.  That was the coldest winter I remember.  I swear the temperature went down below freezing at Halloween and didn't go above freezing until Easter.  That was over thirty years ago!  I was amazed that we were disembarking outside, down open stairs to an awaiting bus in the year 2011.  This is a new terminal!  It was opened to the public in 2008.  Three years ago!  Nonetheless, I descended the stairs and got on the bus, put down my bags, leaned against the padded wall and prepared for the ride to Terminal 5.


I told myself I had to realize I was in a foreign country.  They drive on the other side of the road.  They have a queen.  They speak a different language.  They have free healthcare.  They don't take care of their teeth.  I've got to relax, take it in stride, go with the flow.  When in Rome, do as the Romans do.  I enjoyed the ride.

Inside Terminal 5

After a short walk in Terminal 5, I found myself in line for border processing.  It was at this point I began thinking as a photojournalist; being a blogger and all.  I took my camera from the bag and started to capture some photographic images.  Unlike a paparazzo, I had an insecure feeling.  A feeling I wasn't allowed to be photographing in the border crossing area.  As soon as I had an image on the digital card, I put the camera back in the bag.  Because I was insecure, I missed some photo opportunities.  I wasn't thinking like a photojournalist 100% of the time.  I was trying to get my head into gear but I missed a few shifts.  As a matter of fact, I still find myself missing opportunities.  I often forget to carry my camera.  I forget to jot down notes.  I forget.  I forget quite a bit.


Once in my daughter's cozy apartment and not needing the flash equipment until the wedding reception in Grimsby on Saturday, I placed the gym bag with the Sunpak 611 system out of the way on top of a wardrobe of our rear bedroom.  It was off the floor and out of sight.  All I really needed in London was the camera; the camera and to think like a photojournalist.


©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

Photography Equipment for Grimsby

One of the reasons for our visit to England was to attend a reception for my daughter and her British husband in his hometown, Grimsby.  I was invited to photograph the reception and an engagement type session before the reception.  

Source:http://silverbased.org/

I last photographed a wedding in the late 80's when I was using a 645 film camera.  I used a Lumidyne system for an off-camera strobe light.  That system included a 400WS head with modeling lamp, a 200WS power pack and three mini-batteries.  Part of the system was a Stroboframe.  A Stoboframe holds the camera on a rotating platform and the strobe high above the camera.  The rotating platform keeps the lens axis of a rectangular format camera concentric even though you change from horizontal to vertical camera orientation.

Source:http://forums.skateperception.com

Months before my departure, I found the Lumidyne was not working.  I assumed the flashtube was bad but without testing the whole system, I could not be certain.  The flashtube was the least expensive part in the system and I thought replacing it might be the easiest and most cost effective action to take.  I called around and no local store had a flashtube in stock.  I bid on several used Lumidyne systems on eBay but was unable to purchase one within my budget.  The Lumidyne was not a viable consideration.

Source;http://myworld.ebay.com/bombon-456/?_trksid=p4340.l2559

Source:http://myworld.ebay.com/fotoaffar/?_trksid=p4340.l2559

Years before I purchased the Lumidyne system I used a system that consisted of a Sunpak 611 and a Quantum Battery1.  The Quantum battery recycled the strobe much quicker than four C batteries that the 611 was designed to use as a power source.  I had recently replaced the batteries in the Quantum for my son to use as a movie extra portraying a paparazzo.  This system was a viable consideration.

SB-700

SB-910

The last possibility, and the one I favored the most, was to purchase a new Nikon Speedlight.  Either an SB-700 or SB-910.  Both of those strobes would work automatically with my Nikon and control the flash used for a correct exposure.  However, the SB-700 would cost at least $320.00 and the SB-910 even more.  I was going on a trip and London is an expensive city.  I thought it would be prudent to spend the least amount of money for the best results with little time remaining.  The new Speedlight was out.


I decided to take the Sunpak to England.  The Sunpak system was lighter in weight than the Lumadyne system.  The Sunpak was working.  I made my decision.  There were some issues with the Sunpak system.  Neither of the remote thyristors worked to control the light output, so I had to use the strobe at full power, all the time.  I actually had two Sunpak 611s and each had its own problem.  One didn't have a functioning on/off switch and didn't flash.  The other took a long time to recharge the condensers.  Plus the face of the strobe had a small surface area and couldn't be rotated for bounce flashes, resulting in harsh lighting.

LumiQuest

I decided to purchase a light modifier for the 611.  It would be kind of a small light box fitted to the strobe head.  A light box creates a larger light source thereby softening the shadows on the subjects.  Two days before I departed on BA flight 68, I purchased a LumiQuest Softbox III at a Philadelphia photography shop.  It increased the size of the light source 20 times.  I believed I was set with a camera strobe.  I packed all the photography equipment into my gym bag shaped carry-on with wheels and a extendalbe handle.


I placed a list of all the equipment into the bag.  A check list reduces the chance of forgetting any items.  I use this list as does an airplane pilot, not that I don't know what is necessary but to be sure I have everything both on the outbound flight and on the inbound flight.

This bag is very similar to the bag which contained my flash 

©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved

Streets of London

Monday afternoon, soon after my arrival, my wife, daughter and son decided to venture out on the streets of London; bad ankle and all.  We took the same route to Hackney Wick station my wife and son took the day of her fall.  We made a stop at the site of the accident.  They showed me where and described how the fall unfolded.  I am not sure if it was actually a street or part of a driveway, in either case, the raised bit of blacktop was no larger than my footprint and projected all of two inches above the surface.  It was easily overlooked.

My wife was already feeling discomfort and proceeded slowly to the station.  Our venture required westbound travel on the Overground.  We walked under the bridge and up a long ramp of two or three switchbacks to the platform.  We were headed to a Pizza Express for lunch. 

http://www.whoseview.co.uk/business/PizzaExpress-The-City-London-328223.html

My daughter has a Taste Card in which card holders pay half price or get two meals for the price of one at participating restaurants.  

My son could eat pizza everyday of the week and my daughter is a vegetarian.  All three of these facts were considerations in choosing Pizza Express.  The food and service were OK, once I got help decoding the menu.


After leaving Pizza Express we were back in the tube to visit Harrod's.  We only explored part of the first floor in Harrod's, mainly the food area.

Source:Flickriver

Reminded me of the Reading Terminal Farmer's Market except classier.

Source:Assembly of International Students

Several hours had elapsed since lunch and we decided it might be nice to say we had dessert at Harrod's.

The menu descriptions sounded divine.  Each of us had a drink and a dessert.  The cost was twice that of lunch; close to $80.00.  I am glad I at least have a photograph to remind me of the experience.    About the food, somethings are better left unsaid.


By the time we left Harrod's, my wife wanted to go back to the apartment to elevate her foot.  It took some time but after asking several pedestrians, we figured out how to take a bus back.  

Public Transportation is Amazing on the Streets of London

My daughter told us the name of the bus stop and off we were on the 38 to Hackney Central where we would change buses to the 276 toward Newham University Hospital.  The bus stopped right at the entrance to the courtyard of the apartment complex.  The foot was up and the TV on in less than ten minutes.  We were off the streets of London by 8pm.


©Damyon T. Verbo - all rights reserved