Literature in England

I had planned on writing this blog upon my return from England in late July. However, I had less than 48 hours to spend with my family before I would have to pack and take off for Mexico with my wife. A few days later I was back at work, and somehow this kept getting pushed aside. But recently I developed a Lightroom preset to help make my digital photographs look a little more like the film photographs I typically make. This reignited my desire to write this as I could revisit the mass of photographs I made in England this summer and treat this as a proper retrospective, much like I did with my two part Adventure in Costa Rica series back in June.

I had packed two cameras and three lenses: my Leica SL 601 for digital photos, my Leica R4s for film photos, my Elmarit 28mm f2.8, my Summicron 50mm f2, and Vario Elmar 28-70mm f3.5. This would be the first time I was traveling with only manual focus lenses. I typically had the SL shooting either the Elmarit 28 or Summicron 50 with an adapter, while the R4s had the Vario Elmar 28-70. But these lenses were entirely interchangeable, so I'm unsure which photographs were made with which lenses at this point. And after applying this filter, even which camera took which photo has become foggy.

Manchester (Re)United

This was a study abroad I had set up for my students. It would be ten days of touring England with a focus on the literary heroes that the country birthed. Our flight came in to Manchester, a city I had never been in before. I had been to England only once before, roughly twenty years prior. Lots had changed since then. But Manchester was totally new to me.

We landed early and had most of the morning and afternoon to explore Manchester. It was nine students and one other chaperone, my friend Mike. We spent some time together, but for lunch got free time (something the students looked forward to every day). I took that hour to explore the downtown area and make some street photos.

This one of a man smoking a cigarette in an alley was one of the first I made and was one of my favorites in Manchester. It felt gritty and raw, much like Manchester's reputation.

Narrow urban alley between brick buildings with yellow street markings.

Historic red brick Victorian building with modern glass towers in the background.

Classical architecture building with leafy trees in an urban square.

I found Manchester to be full of life, which was, coincidentally, something I was not full of at the moment. I had taught some summer school courses, had a family vacation, and celebrated my birthday a week early all the weeks leading up to this trip. My wife and I had gotten into an argument on the way to the airport and I was stressed over having so many students under my care.

I was finding it hard to enjoy England as it felt like work, but the more I walked around, the more I became one with Manchester, the better I felt.

People were walking all over. And something I was noticing was that I was capturing better street photos here than back home for one very specific reason: cellphones. There was less cellphone usage on the streets than in America. I was capturing people actually in the moment, not in their cellphones.

Curved street lined with traditional brick buildings in a historic district.

We didn't stay long in Manchester. Immediately after lunch we took off, but the time spent in Manchester was memorable.

I managed to walk a few miles, photograph a lot of the downtown and Chinatown areas, visit an art museum, have lunch - a sandwich and tea - and say that I traveled somewhere new all in a few hours' time. I wish I could have spent more time in Manchester. It didn't seem as posh as some of the other English cities I had been in before and I liked that. The city felt real, as if it was occupied by real people living real lives. Not like the automatons eternally plugged into their iPhones across the pond. The photographs don't lie. Sure, the phone appears, but it is a prop, not a subject.

We said our goodbyes to Manchester in the hopes of being reunited with it sooner rather than later.

Urban street scene with delivery cyclist waiting at intersection.

Carlisle Calling

We got into Carlisle, another city I had never been to, in the evening. Now, there's not much for sightseeing in Carlisle. I'm fairly certain the corner our hotel was location on was the liveliest corner in the town. But it was also the most amazingly English place I've ever been to. This was aided infinitely by the fact that England and Spain were facing off in the Euro Cup that evening. That meant that the whole town was electric from the moment we arrived.

We had dinner in our hotel, one of those antiquated types in which you half-expect to flush your toilet from a chain from above, and then allowed the students to view the game from the least rowdiest joint we could find, a block from the hotel, with the promise that if they were back any later than match's end, they'd be regretting it the rest of the trip.

Busy street scene outside Ladbrokes shop with pedestrians walking past.

Being of Spanish descent, I found it rather difficult, but necessary to cheer silently for Spain. I celebrated just as silently as Spain won and we poured out into the street to head back to the hotel. We found the Brits joyously partying it up in the streets. Many asked for their photos to be taken. And despite me asking if they'd like me to send it to them, simply insisted on whipping out their phones and snapping a shot of my camera screen.

This one was rather odd. The blonde woman beckoned for a photo, smile on her face and then flipped me off as I pulled the camera to my eye. The woman with her became embarrassed by the whole affair and put her hand up, obscuring her face.

I rather liked the final photograph and think it perfectly sums up how the people on the street felt that night. Smile on their faces, happy to have been there, but piss off!

People enjoying a lively evening on a city street with warm lighting and festive atmosphere.

Day Two, Lake District

We awoke bright and early on day two, unable to believe it was only the second day. Miami seemed like so long ago. We drove north to the Lake District. I have visited many places around the world and was still blown away by the beauty found here, with more green than a city boy can ever imagine.

It was a long drive, but I was sure it would be worth it. We were heading to Rydal Mount, the home of William Wordsworth. This was, after all, a study abroad with a focus on literature.

The drive was one of the most peaceful and serene drives I have ever taken. I spent the entire time glued to my window, with the Summicron 50 and ridiculously high shutter speed to ensure I was getting no blur from the moving bus. This one of the s-curve road under the bridge may be one of my favorites of the entire trip.

A winding road passes under a stone railway bridge surrounded by lush green countryside.

Tranquil lake reflects surrounding green hills and trees in a peaceful mountain landscape.

Rolling green hills and mountains under blue sky with scattered clouds in rural countryside.

Having studied Wordsworth in college, and of course teaching literature and poetry for a living, I felt immersed in the land that inspired so much of his work. So much so, that I felt compelled to make as many landscape photos as possible. Landscape photography is not my favorite genre to work in, but I love and appreciate good landscapes. Ansel Adams' work ranks high on my list of favorites. And his philosophy of bringing a love of land and conservation together with his chosen artistic medium made me draw a line across time and oceans (to misquote another of my favorite British authors) from Wordsworth to Adams and inspired me. So, I made landscape after landscape as we traveled northward.

Mountain vista framed by tree branches against bright blue sky with white clouds.

White cottage with beautiful manicured garden and flowering plants nestled in hillside setting.

We hiked a gorgeous trail around lochs and glens on our way to Rydal Mount. It was not necessary for our arrival. But it was necessary for the soul. This communion with nature was something I had been lacking for a long time. I would reckon that most of us on this trip had been missing it for a long time as well. It also gave me the opportunity to make one of my favorite photographs of the entire trip. The photo of the trees parting to reveal the loch with a rocky hill behind it is one that I felt compelled to make. I stood at that spot, not because I needed to catch my breath, but because I had to remind myself to breathe. It was one of the most singularly beautiful sights I had ever been lucky enough to behold.

We spent the rest of the morning at Rydal Mount before getting back on the bus and deciding what to have for lunch. We found a town called Keswick that was just as English as Carlisle, but even more so. I again took to the streets and made some street photos. This one of the well in a square was one I was happy with. It was mundane in the way that town life can be. I felt it accurately depicted this idyllic little town.

The food was decent, and we all were thankful for being able to stretch our legs, because we were about to be on the road for quite some time.

We had decided we wanted to see Hadrian's Wall. After all, just because the focus of the trip was literature didn't mean that we couldn't get historical as well, right?

People resting at a covered bus shelter with stone walls and wooden benches in a quaint village.

We took the fastest route to Hadrian's Wall, which took us into Scotland and back round to England. It was late afternoon by the time we arrived, but we were glad we had asked for this detour. Most of us on this trip were history buffs and seeing this important historical landmark was something that was meaningful.

I regaled my students with the historical accounts of the unconquerable Picts and their fearsome tactics that kept the Romans from traversing farther into Britannia. I then discussed the pulp literature of Robert E. Howard and his character Bran Mak Morn, the Pictish king, and dark fantasy version of the history we were stepping foot in. By the end, we all of us felt a little more British and happy to have flown so many thousands of miles. We were ready to forge ahead and discover what else came our way, which happened to be Yorkshire.

To be continued in Adventure in England, Part II.