Friday, July 27, 2007

Saratoga slog

(Saratoga walkies #8)

The great lethargy has not lifted but I did manage to overcome it for a morning and drag myself round the streets of Saratoga.

It was a blue sky day. The birds were hopping and fluttering about picking up worms and rubbing their beaks together in a flirtatious manner. The sun was warm on my back and the flowers were bright. The hills were long and steep and I'd left my map at home but it was good to be out on the road again.

Henderson Road Saratoga

This shag was not hopping or fluttering. It was having a good long soak-up of sunshine. The water birds were not very active, mostly just sitting on rocks and poles sunning themselves with their eyes closed.

Henderson Road Saratoga

Mother Duck is the name half obscured on that 3rd boat back from the front.

I like this rack of boats. Technically it'll be called a mooring or summat but I like the phrase a rack of boats. This rack is on Henderson Road and that's Rileys Island, one of the uninhabited ones, in the background.

High Street Saratoga

No idea what this climber is called. It had no perfume more's the pity but it was a pleasant site draped over its grey fence.

Shaw Street Saratoga

Sandwich houses I call these ones. Don't know if there's a technical name for them, but with their flat wide shape they look giant sandwiches to me. I've seen perhaps a dozen of the 1950s ones on my travels around the Peninsula and Brisbane Water and a few in the 1970s. This one was on Shaw Street.

Commer Morrison Street Saratoga

Commer bus fitted out as a camper van, Morrison Street. Never seen a Commer bus before. Google tells me they were made in the UK between 1905 and 1979 by a UK manufacturer of commercial vehicles. Commer got bought out by the delightfully named Rootes company and they ended up in the hands of Dodge.

Google spat out a stack of images labelled Commer, including a rather eccentric bus looking like a double-decker glasshouse on wheels, but no image matching this model.

An identical wheel arch is visible on a Commer/Dodge here, bottom centre image and Commer later made the postal vans for the UK Royal Mail that look a lot like Postman Pat's van.

Best guess is this is a late 1950s model campervan. Fuck knows why I didn't look at the model when I saw the bloody van.

Comments & email

Pommy commenter Patty has not yet been flooded out. Good to hear.

Trainspotty & Michael suggest flu and lack of sun as a possible solution to the lethargy mystery.

They could be right (and Trainspotty's duckshit avoidance advice is noted) but Ron's answer is best: excessive gravity. Had a look at my Gravitex 3000 and the bloody gauge is stuck on 3G's! I'll have to get a little man in to fix it.

(BTW Ron, did you get my comment on bunging videos in posts?)


Blabberon said...

I did get your video advice.

Thanks. Cookaberry is now where I wanted her!

What kind of camera do you use. Your photos are sharp and the color looks perfect.

Well done!

By the way, I finally had the balls to included the fuck work in one of my blogs. Thanks for leading the way!

Blabberon said...

Work. Word.

What ever!

Should have used the preview.

Inexplicable DeVice said...

I hope you've been released from gravity's inexorable pull? Well, not entirely, of course. I don't want to have to come and rescue you from the stratosphere as Broom's playing up. Again!

Ta for the jar of drought. I've sent it on to those more needy. The weather here in Norfolk is always contrary to what's predicted/expected. Oh, we've had rain - I've never seen the moat of Castle DeVice look so full - it's just that it never really stays around for long. Better places to visit, I imagine!

Spike said...

Ron - excellent.

Kodak Easyshare DX6440. Thank yer.

Welcome to the Fraternity of Fucking Bloggers.

Device dear, sadly I have not been released from gravity's inexorable pull. It still grips my heels but I'm kicking in the face now.

Yer welcome.

You'll never get crocs if you can't keep yer moat full. They like it nice and still with plenty of frogs for a light snack.

Blasted Broom! Tie it up outside the Witches' Cauldron of a Saturday night then accidentally go home with someone else's.