Say it with me: funicular
So on my birthday we went to Hastings. That’s like saying on your birthday you went to…I dunno…name a shit-hole. Ferguson? Tikrit? It’s not a nice place, mostly.
But down on the waterfront, there’s a little sliver of the charming fishing village Hastings used to be: Hastings Old Town. There are shops and restaurants and museums and the largest fishing fleet in England that is launched from a beachfront.
I like it. Uncle B, not so much. Eh, whose birthday?
It was a warm but a hella windy day, so it was fun to watch the waves come crashing in against the pier. Some damn fool was out surfing in it; we kept waiting for him to be smashed against something.
And I didn’t much fancy taking a ride on this thing. In the picture. The East Hill Cliff Railway. It’s the steepest funicular railway in England.
Funicular. Heh. Love that word. It means the two cars are tethered to each other so they balance and it takes less energy to move them up and down.
When it opened in 1903, this one was hydraulic — there were two big water tanks in the towers at the top and gravity did the thing. Now it’s electric, I think.
Anyway, that’s not important. The important thing is, I took this picture with my new birthday camera. After I busted my old camera, and then busted his old camera, I didn’t really fancy one of them fancy pants new SLR’s to bust.
This one is a Nikon D-60, the next generation after my beloved D-40. Last product in that line, and ever so slightly better at everything. And, yes, first thing I did before it left this house was buy a padded case. Here that pic is in color and unfuzzed.
Back in business, ladies and germs.
May 12, 2015 — 9:54 pm
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