When I arrived back in England last month, one of the first things I did was go for a coffee. Not without a certain amount of trepidation - when I left the UK 10 years ago there was almost nowhere in Birmingham where you could get a decent coffee. Cappucinos were just about accepted, but lattes were scorned. And espressso? Don’t even bother.
How coffee has changed since then.
Shops have sprung up on every high street, and though the quality is variable - many still prefer their coffee diluted to the point of tastelessness - I’m amazed by the sheer number of them. It’s not quite like strolling into a bar in Ferrara and ordering an espresso, which is served with a dinky glass of bottled water, but still, it’s a revelation. And if you know the right place you can get exactly the kind of coffee you like.
One of the hazards of using a film camera is that you can’t check the picture you’ve taken until you’ve finished the roll and got it developed.
In some cameras you can’t even check what type of film is in the camera, or even if there is any film in there until you’ve finished the roll and wound it back. Vlad’s one of those cameras - he likes to play his cards close to his chest. The idea is that you rip of the end of the cardboard box and display that in a nifty window that shows you the film type and speed. It only works if you remember to keep it updated. The worst that can happen is that you leave it in when you’ve finished the roll and forget to put any more film in.
And it’s exactly what happened to me last weekend. I had a creeping fear as the film indicator was showing no more film left (there’s a white bar that goes red as the film get used up) but the frame counter was ticking over nicely. But I knew something wasn’t quite right and I used up the last few shots quickly so I could learn the awful truth. I opened up the back and found… nothing. No film whatsoever.
So you’ll have to imagine the gorgeous self portrait under a weeping willow tree, and the shot of the church clock that instead of spelling out the hours has the word “victoria” curving around its face. The moody graveyard shots are gone too. Luckily I realised in time and managed to use up the last of my peel apart film. But by that time I was so dismayed at the loss of all those great shots that I only had the heart to head to the bathroom and take this.
It’s not a mistake I’ll make again in hurry.
