Streaming on the intergalactic superhighway

 Dungneness sunset

OH ( other half)  has decided that we need a broadband upgrade.

Doctor Who keeps stalling during intergalactic transfers

And  footballs keeps getting stuck between the player's boot and the goal………

Daughter in Canada freezes mid sentence on Skype. Not always a pretty sight; strange contortions held until the cogs get whirring again.

It is time to embrace the super highway he says.

I have to admit to having shown little enthusiasm for this change, despite being the 'early adopter' of technology in our relationship.

Status quo versus internet black hole as everything goes pear shaped and we are left with nothing but a land-line is my preferred option.

I am quite happy with what we have now. The thought of losing contact with my friends in The Arcanum or not being able to back up or upload  my photos are my main concerns . OH is not a technical prodigy; his expertise lies elsewhere, in the land of real people.

So when the new internet box arrived through the post, my heart sank and I decided to head south, to Camber Sands, in order to be absent throughout the period of teeth gnashing and mild to moderate swearing.

Down there there is no internet ( at least where we stay), so I have to read books and work on my images of rocks on the beach .

So this morning, I got up early to be down on the beach at low tide, to see how the rocks are doing. Men in high vis clothing and cranes were in action early. They looked picturesque on the bank. Photogenic even.

I switched on my camera. 'low battery'

This is becoming a habit, and is one of the perils of trying to escape suburbia. I always leave something behind. 

I framed my first photo, and the camera died. So I am going to have to share some old images of the works, taken when the workmen had all gone home.

 After a short walk in the early morning soft and gentle sunlight I headed off to my studio to prepare for the 'Feast of Delights'.

My 'delights' are boxed sets of cards and small framed images that might do for Aunty Mabel's or Uncle Bernie's christmas presents. I am an expert on making white boxes, and find it very therapeutic after the travails of worrying about my internet connection and a very unwell family member.

Camber Collection © Caroline Fraser

Light on Water cards © Caroline Fraser

As I sat making boxes OH rang me. He was busy setting up super fast broadband.

'I need your password to BT ' quothe he.

'It is in my book of passwords' I replied, and advised him where to find it.

He duly found my notebook of passwords and read what he could of my incredibly tidy handwriting.

I realised what was written and told him what the encrypted note said.

'that's a really stupid word' was his response.

'well it works fine for me'……..( and anyway, it was meant to be a secret , thought I)

'And how was I supposed to know that from what was written?'

'you weren't…………passwords are meant to be secret……..a book of passwords that anyone could read would not really be a very good idea……….' 

(Even I know that………)

Anyway reader, the really good news is that we now have new wifi that works, which is  huge relief.

Later that day I asked OH if it is faster and fulfilling his wildest dreams.

' I guess it does…..' he replied.

 I quote verbatim here.

Not really the response I was expecting. 

'I'll only really know when I try streaming…..'


What could I say?

Nada.

But I was so relieved that we remain connected that I went into Rye to buy cakes and took them over to Dungeness for a cup of tea and watched the sun go down with gentle folk who are lucky enough to work and live in the land of big skies.

tea and smoked garlic at the Dungeness Smokehouse

Roll on the next episode of Dr Who. Then we ( OH)  will really be riding the intergalactic superhighway.

An Indian Summer at Camber Sands

saturday evening

There are a lot of people in Germany reading this blog; they seem to be interested in what goes on at Pontins. I know they love to visit Camber, and who can blame them. The beach is something special for those who live in a land locked country.

camber sands, September 2014

Walking on the beach last night as the sun set, and again this morning at low tide I felt very lucky.

My other half is enjoying the daffodils in Sydney, Australia, so I am living it up and eating lots of fish while he eats lots of meat down under.

each to his own.......

As the sun set there was an extraordinary calm sea.

the ship that carries the rocks

Of course I didn't go anywhere near the big rocks down at Jury's Gap that are being used to build the sea defences, and nor did this man and his children

nowhere near the rocks

or this dog and his owners.

a little bit near the rocks

I just enjoyed the setting sun, and the incredible stillness.

This morning was equally calm and still. An Indian summer in every sense.


The beach spotlessly clean.

the litter pickers do a great job

So it was surprising that the Sunday peace for many people in Camber today was completely destroyed by the voice of one man, who could be heard right down on the water's edge.

Pontins was having a '24 hour party'. And it seems that the whole of Camber was expected to listen to the compere.


I drove to Rye for some peace and quiet.

There was a rock concert on the salt marsh, and about 200 men in leathers on bikes at the harbour.

Must be the weather..........

I gave in and went for a run.

Indian Summer at Camber Sands 

the art of living dangerously............advice from a Hasselblad master at sunset

Sunset over Camber Sands

Strange things happen when you least expect them.......

Last night after finally finding the sun at Camber Sands and escaping the grey clouds over London, I left dog sleeping quietly and popped out onto the dunes to watch the sunset with my smallest camera.

Other half was busy eating hog roast in Burnham on Crouch, and I was home alone.

As I stood on top of the dunes a man approached in the dusk, wearing a woolly hat. "You'll need a bigger camera than that to capture the sunset" said he. It seems he was a friendly sort, so I responded with a suitably inane comment, and we got chatting. He informed me that he was a photographer. I replied that I was keen as well. He told me he had just bought a house by the dunes and had fallen in love with the place. I explained that my tiny camera was OK for long exposures of waves at dusk, and that I got on just fine with it.

" Are you a professional photographer" he asked.

 "No", I replied

"Are you a psychologist?"  he asked.

"No" I replied. "What makes you says that?"

I was not in a hurry to give my true identity, as it can alter an easy conversation.

"Something about the way you talk", said he....." So what are you?"

It seems the truth would out.

"I am a doctor, but photography is my passion"

Ahh.............  as predicted everything changed, and he started telling me how healthy he was.

"Everyone says I don't look my age". He told me how old he was and I was not in the least surprised. He went on to detail his exercise programme and work schedule, and to tell me a lengthy
saga about a stye in his eye that all started when he went to a chemist and asked for a tube of the antibiotic ointment that defies gravity by expelling the entire contents of the tube when opened. I listened  and then, to my horror, he started taking off his jacket to display his physique as if to give proof.

"I hope you are not going to take any more clothes off" said I slightly nervously, thinking about what my other half would think of this conversation in the dark with no-one else around. Stranger danger was in the back of my mind as he assured me that he wouldn't.

Then I found out that he is a Hasselblad Master.

 If you don't already know, a Hassleblad master is a seriously good photographer. Only 12 people get this accolade each year. His camera cost around £26,000.


We are in completely different photographic leagues, and somehow everything changed again. This time I was in awe, and when he asked to see my pictures I felt totally inadequate and hurriedly showed him a Hipstamatic print from my phone.

Bins at Camber Sands

"Can I give you a tip" says he........... "use the rule of thirds" .................



I mumbled something and quickly showed him another.

Red zone at Camber Sands

"I like that" said he.

I felt relieved, and hurried off home before it got so dark that I couldn't see my way, and before anything more surprising could happen.

I looked him up on the internet and found a seriously professional fashion photographer who has photographed a number of famous individuals including Robbie Williams.

Strange things happen when you least expect them.

the merits of a rainy red nose day and the extraordinary story of a non pregnant lady

a rainy day in Chislehurst by Caroline Fraser

Yesterday I finally figured out that I can’t work on a photographic project of subject matter that I don’t feel has some beauty attached. At last I can see a way forward.

The inner turmoil that I have been feeling for last 2 weeks is all to do with not realising and accepting this, and feeling bound to progress my project regardless.
I now realise that I have to proceed on a basis of exploring subject matter that gives me the inner calm that my photography has been giving me for the last 5 years.

My photography above all else should give me pleasure; if not I have lost my purpose.

I have been waiting for rainy day and finally it arrived. Only photography can enable me to really appreciate a rainy day. In the few minutes that I was out and about at lunchtime I was able to get a few more photos of subjects through a wet windscreen; this is very ordinary life portrayed, but in a way that I feel comfortable with. I stopped the car in a side road and grabbed a few more tree shots before returning to work for the afternoon.




tree in rain




I listened to the extraordinary story of a lady who pretended to be pregnant at a pop concert in order to get to the medical room at the O2 to get near the pop star. She was seen by an ambulance man who diagnosed that she was 37 weeks pregnant with a dead baby. The woman in question was accused of concealing a pregnancy, and the police and social services got involved. She was marched off to see a doctor, who confirmed that she was not pregnant, but rather overweight, and to whom she confessed the full story. Much time of many people was wasted due to the lady and the paramedic between them.
 
When I re-emerged from my office at 6pm the sky was clear, and there was a wonderful light in the sky.

another tree, different weather

I stopped off again in another side road,and spent a very happy 10 minutes watching the sky change from orange to pink to blue.
 
A perfect end to the day.
 
 
 
 
In future I will stick to subjects that work for me.
 
I feel I can now progress the project with a clear goal   .....................   beauty.