City of Cranes
"No Photography" say the notices on Floor 17 of the multi-storey car park.
You can't get into the Leeds University car park on a Tuesday afternoon, oh no. "CAR PARK FULL" says the sign, week after week, and the Usual Man isn't on duty on a Tuesday afternoon, at the kiosk where you get your ticket to go in.
I have struck up some kind of a relationship with the Usual Man where he tells me to drive a bit closer, love, he can't be walking three yards to give me my ticket, and I explain that if I get any closer he'll be under the wheels, and we smile at each other, and he says he's prepared to risk it, and he always lets me in.
Different Man won't ever let me in.
"Car park's full," he says grumpily.
"No it's not," I say, just as a matter of principle really. "Every Tuesday you say this to me and every Tuesday I park on the top floor of the multi-storey and walk through Leeds University passing about a dozen empty spaces in your car park."
"Full," he repeats.
"It really isn't, you know. But I'll just drive round in a loop and park in the multi-storey, like I do every Tuesday, shall I?"
"You'll have to drive round in a loop and park in the multi-storey," says Different Man, who has only been programmed with a repertoire of three phrases or so, like one of those talking dolls.
So I drive to the multi-storey, which is packed with all the cars which have been turned away by Different Man, and end up on Floor 17, right at the top in the open air.
"No Photography" say the signs. On the doors, on the walls. No explanation as to Why Not.
So of course, the first thing I do is get my camera out and take as many photos as I can as obtrusively as possible in the hope that Multi-Storey Jobsworth will call the Riot Squad to restrain me.
But I have clearly reckoned without my ability to project Respectability, and Jobsworth looks at me and moves on. I can tell that he thinks I have eight Important Council Forms in my bag giving me special permission to take photographs. Shame. Just to prove my crime, here are a couple of the pictures.
In the Olden Days, Leeds was a city of old Victorian terraces and old Victorian smog.
Not now, though. Now it's a city of cranes: trendy new buildings shooting up everywhere.
This one's looking over to the University - I expect if you look closely you can see Different Man turning cars away from the car park - and the boat in the front is now a pub. But look! Another crane in the distance. You can't take a photo of the Leeds skyline these days without at least one crane in it.
And I took the photos. From the Woodhouse Lane Car Park. On Tuesday afternoon. I confess. Even small acts of rebellion can be very satisfying. My Dad's a Communist.
You can't get into the Leeds University car park on a Tuesday afternoon, oh no. "CAR PARK FULL" says the sign, week after week, and the Usual Man isn't on duty on a Tuesday afternoon, at the kiosk where you get your ticket to go in.
I have struck up some kind of a relationship with the Usual Man where he tells me to drive a bit closer, love, he can't be walking three yards to give me my ticket, and I explain that if I get any closer he'll be under the wheels, and we smile at each other, and he says he's prepared to risk it, and he always lets me in.
Different Man won't ever let me in.
"Car park's full," he says grumpily.
"No it's not," I say, just as a matter of principle really. "Every Tuesday you say this to me and every Tuesday I park on the top floor of the multi-storey and walk through Leeds University passing about a dozen empty spaces in your car park."
"Full," he repeats.
"It really isn't, you know. But I'll just drive round in a loop and park in the multi-storey, like I do every Tuesday, shall I?"
"You'll have to drive round in a loop and park in the multi-storey," says Different Man, who has only been programmed with a repertoire of three phrases or so, like one of those talking dolls.
So I drive to the multi-storey, which is packed with all the cars which have been turned away by Different Man, and end up on Floor 17, right at the top in the open air.
"No Photography" say the signs. On the doors, on the walls. No explanation as to Why Not.
So of course, the first thing I do is get my camera out and take as many photos as I can as obtrusively as possible in the hope that Multi-Storey Jobsworth will call the Riot Squad to restrain me.
But I have clearly reckoned without my ability to project Respectability, and Jobsworth looks at me and moves on. I can tell that he thinks I have eight Important Council Forms in my bag giving me special permission to take photographs. Shame. Just to prove my crime, here are a couple of the pictures.
In the Olden Days, Leeds was a city of old Victorian terraces and old Victorian smog.Not now, though. Now it's a city of cranes: trendy new buildings shooting up everywhere.
This one's looking over to the University - I expect if you look closely you can see Different Man turning cars away from the car park - and the boat in the front is now a pub. But look! Another crane in the distance. You can't take a photo of the Leeds skyline these days without at least one crane in it.And I took the photos. From the Woodhouse Lane Car Park. On Tuesday afternoon. I confess. Even small acts of rebellion can be very satisfying. My Dad's a Communist.
posted by Daphne at 11:14 am
7 Comments:
I've heard there's now a campaign to dob in anyone taking pictures that might include security cameras. That would have me demonstrably taking pictures of all surveillance cameras in town.
Remarkable photos, Daphne.
Oh not because you took them from Floor 17 or because you're a woman and therefore can't take decent photos. Oh no.
Remarkable because the sun was shining in Leeds !!
(I may have blown my ride on 28th !!)
Oh, me too, Michael!
Ian - ooh, ooh, I'm SO offended - - not. With regard to the 28th I have two words for you and one is WOMAN and the other is DRIVER.
"So of course, the first thing I do is get my camera out and take as many photos as I can as obtrusively as possible in the hope that Multi-Storey Jobsworth will call the Riot Squad to restrain me."
LOL!
Ah, Lovely Leeds! Is that the Dry Dock? xxx
Thanks, Siegfried!
Amy - yes, that's right - the pub that's a boat is the Dry Dock. Only been there once and it was incredibly crowded.
That's one of the better things about becoming older - the rebellious streak is given full rein again! I'm still looking for a reason to chain myself to some railings. ;)
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