Saturday was a day of dramatic weather; we headed north under an apocalyptic sky, which cleared to cloudless by Gloucester. And shortly after I got home in the evening, a storm hit Bristol and the house shook in the wind. I had to lash down the skylight to stop it blowing away.
Anyway... having dropped K off, I came down through Wales and took a walk around Newport with my camera. It is a very camera friendly place.
And I met my old friend Mark who runs a book stall in the market, and caught up with the news. And then bumped into a protest over the Israeli action in Gaza. It was good to see something happening in Newput more animated than booze and fags and junk food
...walking back to the car, which I'd parked in a bit of wasteland near the river, I was accosted by a bloke with a razored head. He bounded across the road to me, with one of those smiles that aren't really a smile, and said, "It's funny, isn't it?"
I looked blankly.
"It is funny though. You're always taking pictures of these arabs. What about the white people? The homeless white people who've been here all the time?"
This was some time after I'd left the demo. He had no reason to suppose that I had been taking photos of the demo, other than figuring that I looked the sort... must be doing something right then.
I gave him a smile-that-wasn't-a-smile and said nothing. And walked on.