This is what you get for going to London for People’s Vote March…

Only Sir Patrick Stewart speaking on the stage!

This was my fifth anti Brexit march (I covered the first three on the blog before; the fourth one, which I didn’t post about, took place at the end of September in Manchester during the Conservative Party Conference). One sometimes wonders what the point is, why we still bother, but we do because it’s not the end yet.

I spent the whole time with three other guys from our coach from Manchester. As the coach dropped us off at the Embankment instead of Hyde Park, we decided to walk straight to Parliament Square, where the stage was set up for the rally and which was the end point of the march. So, we didn’t do any actual marching but we saw all the speakers. It’s the complete opposite of last year, where I did march but couldn’t even get to Parliament Square because it was so packed, the police had to turn people away at Whitehall. It’s really good to have experienced both.

I didn’t plan to blog about this march, or any other march again, I don’t want to clog my blog with Brexit posts (it seems to me there are too many but what can I do when I feel it every single day?) but at the same time, I feel like I need to give it a shout out. Truth is, it was an amazing, fantastic, beautiful experience and probably one of the best days of my life, despite getting up dead early to catch the coach at 6:30 and spending altogether about 11 hours on the said coach.

I would do it again.

If you want, you can read more about the march here.

New Horizon

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I love the title of this challenge. It’s full of positivity. New Horizons is also a name of the NASA probe to Pluto. I’ve not managed to get a shot of any space probe yet, but I did manage to get a shot of a hot air balloon (sort of)–it’s that tiny red dot on the above photo. Speaking of hot air balloons, once I watched some movie with a hot air balloon when I was a kid and I liked it so much that when it crashed at the end, I started crying and my mum, who wasn’t watching it, ran to the living room, worried, asking what happened, why was I crying and when I told her, she said, don’t worry, they will fix the balloon and it will fly again! I remember she then went to the kitchen, where, I imagine, burst into massive laughter, though this couldn’t be confirmed; she has no recollection of this incident. (I don’t remember how the movie ended.)

I don’t know what’s on the horizon. On one hand, I can’t wait for 2017, on the other, I’m scared that after 13 (well, 14 by then) years of living in UK, some politicians will decide that I have to go. These guys have expressed it much better than me. But it also proves that you must not under any circumstances take anything for granted. My favourite saying is shit happens and now that shit happened, let’s see how we can deal with it. (Like, google “moving to Germany” for starters.)

The picture was taken in Arnside, Cumbria.

New Horizon

Local

Manchester Old Cheetham Hill police station

I was standing on the street next to mine, photographing this, when a woman approached me and asked me what it was that I was taking a picture of.

“Old Cheetham Hill police station,” I said. Cheetham Hill is this area of Manchester.

The woman was pleasantly surprised and told me she was interested in local old buildings and had been trying to find out for years what this gateway was part of. There was no information on it anywhere.

I told her the truth, that I found it only thanks to Pokemon Go.

In fact, I never even noticed the gateway before, even though I have passed by it regularly for at least a decade. It was when I was catching Pokemon in the summer that I looked at it for the first time–it was a Pokestop. So we chatted a bit, I explained to her how the game worked and then we parted.

I haven’t been able to find out almost anything on the net about this old police station and now I really have to give it to those folks at Nintendo.

This obviously refers to “local” as in where I live, not where I’m from. My home town (if that is the right word, as in the place I was born and bred) is Bratislava. But this makes me think, what is local?

Some Tory politician or other (I’m not making the effort into looking up her name) said at a recent party conference, that firms should be hiring British people instead of immigrants. Because immigrants… well, immigrants. You know, immigrants. I’ve seen a comment on Facebook post that linked to that news article, which agreed with this politician and that it yes, the firms should be recruiting local people in the first place. What is “local people”?

I have been living in Manchester for 13 years, in the same area for  almost 12, have been renting from the same estate agency for 11 years and been living in the same flat for 6. But immigrants.

It will take me a very long time to get over being bitter about Brexit.

 

Local

Thirty-Five

I turned 35 two days ago. I don’t know if it’s supposed to be a milestone, but I don’t feel any different than last week when I was still 34. So much for that.

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The weather was so mild on that day and I decided to walk from work again and got to see an absolutely gorgeous sunset.

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The tower on the bottom picture belongs to the buildings of Strangeways prison–now officially named HM Prison Manchester, but still commonly referred to as Strangeways.

I also took a picture of a church tower but didn’t like it, so I inverted the colours and it ended up like this:

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Quite suitable for All Saint’s Day, it seems.

It’s foggy outside and pretty cold–best time to stay indoors with a hot drink, a good book and a TV subscription.

Happy November!