There was a moment; I think it was near the end of the movie, when Crocodile Dundee was preparing to go where ever it is that he was going. It was when he put on his leather hat, it was leather wasn’t it? He grabbed his bowie knife, slipped on his boots and announced to anyone that was listening that he was going on a “walkabout”. From that moment on, I was maybe 17 or 18; I loved the concept of the walkabout.
I liked it because it fit perfectly with another moment from English poetry class from a year or so earlier that had also captivated me. The idea of the walkabout blended perfectly with another fantasy. A fantasy stoked by Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Less Traveled”.
Since those days and as time has passed my life has been a walkabout, a journey seeking the less traveled roads. Sometimes I have stumbled into misery, deception and danger. Other times I have seen joys, beauty and love. Most every time I’ve carried a camera for fear of not remembering what I had seen.
The Australian aborigines send their boys out at the age of thirteen to discover their roots, ancestor’s heroic deeds and ultimately themselves. Frost encouraged the traveler to consider other paths during journeys not only for discovery of other things but also as a means of discovery of self. That’s what I think anyway.
My point is that I like to take walks. I like to take walks for the surprises I might see. I like to take walks to get lost. I like to take walks to find new paths, people and ideas. I walk and wonder. I walk and marvel at the world, at my environment and think about my place in it all.
I stare at buildings, signs and grafitti. I stare at people, cafes and cars. Sometimes I just like the colors come together by accident or design. I like to take walks and like I said I like to take pictures on these walks.
Come, grab my hand, let’s go for walk through East London.
My walk started on Brick Lane in East London. I ate a magnificent bagel. As I finished the first one I bought another. I then bought a bag of six. I stuffed my face with bagels to start my walk. I probably wondered the rest of the way with cream cheese on my face.
I walked from Brick Lane towards the Columbia Road flower market. If you ever visit London you must visit the East End. It is the London where people live and breath. It is London of the punk years. Its ruff and hard. Its delightful. Did I stop for a cup of tea and a film?
On my way to the flower market I saw a three wheeled car. Talk about making me wonder. When was this made? Why was it made? Who owns this thing and what are they still doing with it? I think Mr Bean drove one of these.
The Columbia Road flower market is neat for several reasons. One is that it comes alive with street performers and out door stalls on Sundays. The rest of the week its a road like any other but on Sunday’s its magical. It becomes what I imagined England was during the middle ages.
I’m not really sure why this garbage caught my eye but sometimes inspiration is in the simplest compositions.
This is another one of those surprising mixes that sometimes catches me and surprises me. I think this is a rusting door. Freaky.
Not that I’m a voyeur or anything but this letter hole seemed to be hiding an incredible world behind it. I was right. Inside was a neat wooden furniture store. I wish I remembered the name of the store so you visit the website but I can’t. So you’ll just have to live with the photo.
Since I’ve moved to London I’ve really started to feel more comfortable about myself and my place in the world. For the most part I think I’m finally finding people that dress and look like me. I’m home.
And of course some flowers. You didn’t think I would go to the market and not buy you some flowers did you? Come on, what kind of lout do you think I am? Don’t answer that.
If you ever do make it to the Columbia Road Sunday flower market make sure you make way for the walking plants. You’ll see far more than you’ve ever seen in your life.
Thanks for coming on the walk with me.