I really liked this elderly couple who I had noticed take a seat on one of the benches down at Gunwharf.
As I watched so his wife with some degree of anticipation carefully took out this pastry treat which had been placed delicately into it’s very own little designer paper wrap. They seemed to be looking forward to sharing this. However; whilst they were both busy concentrating on this special treat they were both about to enjoy; so this young lad then arrives having just completed his shopping spree that morning. He then commences to park himself alongside the pair on the bench seat. This couple though were still engrossed and had not even realised his presence at this time.
Placing his head phones from his mobile phone over his ears he then slumps himself down into the comfort of the seat; after placing both hands firmly in his pockets. Obviously intent on ‘zoning out’ from what was happening immediately around him?
Just a few moments later though the elderly gentleman then commences to look around and about him appearing somewhat puzzled. I then very quickly realised that he was trying to locate the source of the music which he could hear.
Little did either of them appreciate that it was the ‘tinny’ thumping sounds coming from this young lads head phones they could hear; and the volume level was so high that even I could hear it!
Eventually though I think that the sudden realisation then hit and they both began smiling as they got themselves up from the bench seat leaving the young fella to his very own intense but seemingly private music concert experience.
This gentleman had been walking through the town centre clutching this small vacuum sealed sandwich box under his arm. I watched as he stopped in his tracks and purposefully checked the time on his watch and then compared it’s accuracy with that of the large clock on the Buttercross.
I assumed that the time on his leather strapped watch must have proved accurate because he then walked slowly over towards this old bench seat where he proceeded to sit himself down and carefully place this sandwich box alongside him.
He then carefully removed his spectacles and with a small piece of cleaning cloth; he wiped the lenses clean before holding them upwards to the light to examine their clarity. Then placing them comfortably back onto his face he removed a small booklet from a pocket inside his fleece top; and turned it’s pages open to the one previously earmarked. He then placed it on on his lap and commenced scanning the contents.
After just a minute or two he opened up the sandwich box and removed this one solitary doorstep sized sarnie comprising two thick slices of fresh bread uncut; before then taking one large and satisfying bite.
There was nothing else in the box just this one solitary sandwich; but he seemed to enjoy every mouthful as he sat in the relative peace and quiet reading whatever information his little booklet contained.
Once the sandwich was finished he shut the lid of his box brushed the crumbs from his clothing; returned the little booklet to his jacket pocket and once more checked his wristwatch. Then he was up and walking back from the direction in which he had just come.
My curiosity kicked in and I got to wondering if he made this solitary sandwich himself; and if this was in fact a ritual he carried out most days of the week?
I shall keep an eye out next time i’m over there in case our paths should cross again? But for now I’m a bit peckish as it goes; I think Greggs Pasty shop is calling me.
Well now; maybe you’re in the market for a new bicycle? Maybe you’re looking out for a nice set of repro dining room chairs? Or why not treat yourself to a classic vintage ‘Singer’ sewing machine?
Whatever it is that takes your fancy; you can probably find it here in the market place street auction in Chichester.
As you will see from the image above this particular one is quite well attended as there’s always someone out there hoping to snap up a bargain or two. People attending though were not put off by the drop in temperature and were all well wrapped up against the cold; stamping their feet on the ground and blowing hot air into their clasped hands; as the auctioneer for the sale bellowed out his chat and banter to the enjoyment of the crowd.
I would have to admit that each time I have visited this market they always seem to move their items on; and at at a pretty rapid rate. I do though always smile as people who have purchased bikes sometimes on a whim; then pay and cycle away looking decidedly unsafe in their balance and handling ability. They wobble around precariously before eventually finding their momentum and heading off up the road trying their best to seem competent.
Some with plans to possibly do a little bit of work on their new purchase before then selling it on again to another buyer? Only with a more profitable and of course slightly elevated price tag?
Even six foot full length dining tables are purchased here by local punters; some of whom have absolutely no form of transport arranged but are more than happy to pick up and wander away with them; much to the amusement of the assembled crowd.
Can’t beat a good auction of whatever description. They are always great fun and you just never know what you might find, purchase and arrive back home with? There’s nothing quite like carrying your purchase home and momentarily standing by your front door scratching your head; wondering…
“WHY? Why the hell did I buy this? What on earth was I thinking?”
Another busy Saturday down at Commercial Road. And in what is our school’s half term; the place seemed even livlier than usual. As always down here their was a certain vibe hanging in the air.
All of life is here; and in all it’s many guises. People with things to buy, meetings to attend, catching up with old friends, taking a coffee break, or maybe out looking for that something special?
So as I had done what it was I came there to do; and with a half hour or so to spare, I was quite content just to walk about and see what was on offer; photographically speaking you understand?
It was then I heard this young preacher who had positioned himself on this concrete mount and was doing everything he could to try to get people to listen to his words. Sadly, very few appeared to have either the time or the inclination to stop and lend him their ear. Un-rellenting he continued on preaching the word from his holy script his voice occassionally breaking as he did so.
Then wandering into frame I see this homeless guy. He lights up a hand rolled cigarette and then proceeds to shuffle about in an agitated state? He too looked like he was hoping to connect with someone or to share a word or two of friendly greeting; instead he was blanked by the many shoppers who passed him by without so much as glance.
I smiled over to him having taken this quick capture and watched as he raised a thumb back at me in his fingerless glove. His eyes were the palest blue colour as he glanced up just briefly; before then shuffling on his way over to the seats near the water fountain at the bottom of the town.
Here he sat himself down and crossed his legs. Then leaning his body weight forward his left arm resting across his lap; he very slowly raised his other hand holding this tiny cigarette which was almost burning his fingers; upwards toward his bearded lips. Taking one long deep inhalation of smoke he then discarded the roll up before talking to himself and then laughing out loudly. I watched on sympathetically as he tried so hard to focus all of his concentration on removing an old weathered tobacco pouch from one of his many jacket pockets; before rolling himself yet another comfort smoke?
“It made me think of that old that old saying”
“Not all who wander are lost”
“Hmm…makes you think doesn’t it?”
A friendly word of advice fellow followers; Harri was five on Friday. So as today’s blog is dedicated to ‘Family’ I thought I should share this image of her ready to get stuck in to her Military Martial Arts class.
Although the smallest in the group you don’t mess with her! For in little Harri’s mind she is a fierce fighting warrior.
Today then to celebrate her five summers on this planet we are all invited over for tea and Birthday Cake at her house.
I shall no doubt take the camera and I shall no doubt get in trouble for making her scream and laugh and for generally mucking around.
But hey c’mon; that’s my job…I’m entitled!
I will however need to be careful today that she doesn’t suddenly come at me with one of her deadly flying axe kicks? Or worse still an unexpected forward punch; which due to her current height ratio can be an eye watering experience.
Perhaps I best not wind her up at all? Maybe I should go for the safer option? Yep I think that’s what I’ll do. But when I see this little face…how do I resist?
Anyway whatever happens; Happy Birthday to our beautiful little grand daughter ‘Mad Harri’
One hyperactive, hell raising and absolutely hillarious bossy little lady. Who without doubt is a potential future black belt in the making.