As Well As If A Promontory Were

Well, more of a peninsular than a promontory. Therefore, send not to know, For whom the bell tolls, It tolls for thee. John Donne wrote that. No man is an island, he’s a peninsular. I think Grace Slick said that… And? Well, we are talking about a peninsular and the bell is certainly tolling.

Greenwich Pier, nightime November 2006

The Thames path around the Greenwich Peninsular is a rich photographic source for somebody like me. I don’t know for how much longer it will continue to be. So much of it is changing and the pace of that change appears to be accelerating. A state of turmoil seems to exist. Good to photograph while it exists and good to photograph while in flux, but development is creeping round pincer-like from both Lovells Wharf and The Dome O2. Access becomes more limited and banality encroaches.

Gateway to nowhere

This is the site of a storage facility (I think), since demolished.

Around the corner from this gate this was the view from the building next door (likewise demolished). To get the shots it was necessary to ‘break in’. Definitely worth doing though, if only for the near death experience of (not quite) plunging three floors. No light, no floor, eye fixed to the camera. Nuff said. Sensible people, health & safety reps et al avert your eyes please

April 2007

That view is fast disappearing too as the works are pulled down.

And the changes start right from the beginning of the path in Greenwich (or the end coming from the other side). This pier has been replaced by a building site for what seems years, perhaps just two (just!).

Greenwich Pier, nightime, November 2006

And I won’t even talk about Lovells Wharf. Riverside living at the heart of Greenwich… well, perhaps the bowel rather than the heart. Uniform pattern-built boxes lacking imagination and proportion plus wholesale closure of public rights of way.

Some of the path though remains full of wonderful and random strangeness and god knows what evil shit that has been left lying around. This oil drum looks toxic.

Something to do with this perhaps?

Many wheels too. I’ve photographed several, but these I like best because I’m a magpie for primary(ish) colours

Wheels

In the middle of the dereliction there is power still. Powering what? I’m assuming this is some sort of junction box, but hey? What for?

Live?

I’m a sucker for lost gloves too. This is one sad wet glove

But there is such a lot to see and there are some real treats. When the tide is out it is fun to poke around under the wharfs. There is some astonishing beauty too. Conventional and less conventional.

A lesser splash

A bigger splash? The boat is not in the water…

Lifebelt

John Donne. He also wrote …for nothing less than thee would I have broke this happy dream; it was a theme for reason, much too strong for fantasy. So good, I just had to include it as a counterpoint to his sermon which started this post. How on earth did one person go from The Dream to For whom the bell tolls?

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