When sunny, some St. John’s houses explode with colour.
If overcast, they glow.
In the city centre an architectural cornucopia …
… of embellishment …
… tradition …
… size or, in the purple case, lack of it …
… doors …
… and storm windows attesting to weather …
… pleasing quirkiness …
… all surveyed by a watchful cat.
There is occasionally - oh, ominous manifestation - cutesy gentrification …
… but in a town repeatedly buffeted by elements and economy ...
… hard times signs are still not difficult to find, alongside recent renovations.
Lace curtains (or facsimile) …
… and curious remembrance of a house (look closely).
A city with few tall buildings, its hilliness means the Catholic cathedral, peeking over houses, is particularly prominent. The last picture in my previous post makes this even clearer.
Nearby, the reassuring warmth of the Gothic Revival Anglican cathedral, designed by George Gilbert Scott. Ecclesiastical structures were not his only interest. He produced quite a few workhouses, a swimming pool, major London hotel and a jail.
His grandson, Sir Giles Gilbert Scott, was architect of the extraordinary cathedral in Liverpool, city where I learned my trade.
I am somewhat surprised, although suppose there’s no good reason, to find evidence of 1930s streamlining and, after nearly four days of walking ...
… my calves (if not theirs) are complaining from all the ups and downs and downs and ups.
So, I’m going to copy this couple (more my age) and sit awhile.
