Keswick Lad

Earlier this week I was at Silverstone race circuit to meet up with an old friend, former motorcycle world champion ‘Rocket’ Ron Haslam.  Ron and his family run a fantastic race school which had to move this year because of the closure of Donington Park.  Donington was being re-built to host the F1 car grand prix but the bid failed leaving the track half-finished and unfit for racing.

After several successful years Ron’s race school was suddenly left homeless and without a track.  But his wife Ann saved the day by negotiating a transfer to Silverstone.  On a purely selfish note, Silverstone is a bit of a trek and nowhere near as good for taking pictures of bike racing.  Nothing against the circuit but it is a car circuit, it has lots of room and is apparently very fast – but Donington is about 20 minutes from my Nottingham base and easily makes great bike shots.

I doubt any of this matters to Ron, he just loves bikes and racing.  Ron is from a little village in Derbyshire and I hope he does not mind me saying this but I do not think he was very interested in school.  Ron was always going to be a racer and that was his career, nothing else mattered.

He became a superstar in the sport and travelled the world – but he never changed one bit.  Ron won three World titles, four British championships and raced in almost 110 GPs.  Although the guy is a legend he is still the most helpful person I have ever seen with other racers.  Ron will help anyone with a bike.

As you may have read on earlier posts, some ‘famous’ people have been a bit of a let down – but not Ron.  If you attend one of Ron’s schools he will be there.  He will be racing around the track and helping everyone from the youngest kid upwards.  Ron always has time for a photo or an autograph – too much if you are trying to get him to do something !

If you are a bike fan and love racing then I can thoroughly recommend the Ron Haslam Race School.  They will look after you whatever standard you are, you can go as fast or slowly as you wish.  There is no pressure at all to race, they just want you to enjoy your day and be safe.  I hope I still hold the record for the slowest lap round Donington on a 500cc race bike.  They will also teach you control which might just save your life on the dangerous roads away from the track.  All the equipment is provided and if you are really brave you might be able to buy a pillion ride with Ron – if you dare !

You might also bump into his son, Leon, who is currently second in the World Superbike Championship.  Leon regularly visits the school when his own work and golf commitments allow.  The school is most definitely a family business.

Ron also runs a course for young riders where he teaches basic road craft.  He shows the kids how to stop and corner with total control.  He is not trying to teach them to be ‘boy racers’ but he is making sure they are safer when they do venture onto the open road.

This week Ron had TV commentator Martin Brundle and former racing driver Derek Warwick at his school.  As they arrived the weather changed for the worse and the track was soon wet.  Ron kept warning them that bikes do not handle like cars in the wet but they ignored him – until Warwick was sliding along the tarmac just after his bike !

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Back in the distant days of the early 1980′s Britain was in economic meltdown.  Over 3 million people were unemployed and I was one of them.  Maggie Thatcher was in charge and we were heading towards the Miners strike.  Thinking about it, the country is in a similar state today but I am definitely not and there is one main reason for that – a man called Paul Delmar.

I first met Paul at Richmond College in Sheffield in September 1982.  He was going to teach me to be a press photographer.  I had already dropped out of one college course but nine months of doing the ‘full monty’ dole office queue scene had given me the determination and drive to make sure there were no more mistakes.  This was my big chance and fate had dealt me the perfect hand with Paul Delmar.

Paul was the most enthusiastic person I had ever met.  His passion for photography was unbelievable, he was driven by trying to be the best press photographer and beating every other photographer every day – I was hooked.

He was the most amazing teacher because he never actually told you anything.  He just wound you up and sent you out to discover things for yourself.  But he also filled you with the desire to succeed and to be the best – even against a classroom of 13 friends.  It was always ‘dog eat dog’ with Paul and that also appealed to me.

Over the years I have tried to keep in touch and I have seen the same enthusiasm inspire hundreds of great photographers.  His courses must have taught over 1000 photographers.  From that about 95% have found jobs in the industry – it must be one of the most successful courses in the world.  He has taught people who are now picture editors, national newspaper staff photographers, British Press Awards winners and he picked up a few awards himself along the way.

In recent years changes to government education funding has caused problems for the course.  The National Council for the Training of Journalists (NCTJ) has not been able to secure a status for the course which would provide the required funding.  It is a national disgrace that this course cannot be funded – particularly when you consider the success rate and some of the more ridiculous alternative courses available today.  This is the only specialist course for press photographers in Britain – it is not another media studies course.

Earlier this year Paul agreed to take redundancy in an attempt to cut the cost of running the course.  It was decided that the course could no longer justify a full-time tutor.

When Paul announced that he was leaving the rumour mill fired into action.  Various websites and trade press ran stories saying that Paul was retiring and that the course was closing.  The NCTJ stood back and watched as the rumours almost killed the course, they refused to issue any statements and just passed everything on to the Sheffield College.  Why the NCTJ are not fighting to save this course is a mystery.  The media industry has never been more visual than it is today but the NCTJ does not appear to want to run a press photography course in 2010-11.

Paul and his family have given everything to press photography.  They have all lived for his desire to produce the next batch of great photographers.  The newspaper industry owes a great deal to Paul Delmar and his family.  It would have been nice if he could have walked away from the college knowing that his course was safe, but that has not been the case.  It has still not been decided if the course will run even though students have been interviewed in the past few weeks.

On Friday 30th July Paul leaves Sheffield College.  No events have been planned to mark the event, but  I will be popping along to buy him a drink or two and thank him on behalf of every photographer who attended his courses.  Paul Delmar will always be a legend and I wish him well with his future projects and thank him for rescuing me from that dole queue.

Cheers Beers Mr Delmar !!!

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As a press photographer I get to travel a lot and I spend a lot of time in hotels – some good, some not so good.

On Friday I travelled down to Cardiff to see a Paul McCartney concert.  The former Beatles legend was playing at the Millennium Stadium on Saturday night.  I stayed in the Village Hotel on the outskirts of the City.  It is a modern hotel with its own leisure club and it looked very impressive on the internet.

As I walked into my bedroom I was met by the hotel magazine which was on the bed and already opened to show the Friday special offer – ‘Burger Me !’ which was ‘burger and chips in The Victory pub from 5pm to close for only £2′. It sounded too good to be true.

It was a beautiful summers evening and so I decided to walk down into the nearby village.  I had a few drinks and wandered back into the hotel just after 10pm.  By now I was feeling a little peckish – I remembered the ‘special offer’.

As I walked into The Victory pub I noticed the staff were all wearing their ‘Burger Me’ T-shirts.  I ordered a pint and asked for the burger offer.  “Sorry Sir, the offer is finished – we stop serving food at 9.30pm” said the lady behind the bar slightly apologetically.  I said: “The offer said close – is the bar shut ?”  She apologised again and said there was nothing she could do.

So I took my pint and retreated to my room – next stop room service.  I phoned down and asked what food was available.  “Sorry Sir, we are closed.  I might be able to get you a sandwich or I can bring you a take-away menu” said the very helpful night-porter.

I went for the sandwich.  Five minutes later the night-porter bought me two packs of motorway service station style sandwiches for the very reasonable price of £5.  He assured me he would pass my comments on to the duty manager and they would contact me in the morning.

Next morning I was woken by the maid trying to clean my room before 9am – my fault for not putting out the sign.  But I did lock the door and put the chain on !

The rest of the day was fantastic with Macca producing a world-class concert.

I got back to find the maid had removed most of the towels from the room and forgot to replace them.

Sunday morning I popped down for breakfast all ready for a quick drive north in time to see the England match.  I walked through reception and was stopped in my tracks by the queue for breakfast.  Now breakfast is self-service in this hotel, everything is ready and waiting.  All the staff have to do is clear up, reset the tables and give out tea or coffee.  There were at least six staff on duty but I queued for at least 20 minutes for a table.  At least six tables were empty but the staff were not clearing them.

I finally made it into breakfast.  I ordered my tea and collected some orange juice.  The tea arrived and I filled my mug.  Then I was off to collect my full English.  As I tucked into a fine breakfast I went to pick up my tea and noticed it was gone.  The staff had cleared away my breakfast mid meal !

I asked a waitress where my tea was ?  She then looked at me as if I was completely stupid and then wandered off returning with a new pot of tea and a mug.  No apology,  juice or milk.  I asked again for milk.  This came a few minutes later still without any apology.

I realised it was now time to return to England.  I checked out and mentioned a few problem but the receptionist just gave me the manager’s business card.  I think it was clearly time for me to Burger Off back home to Nottingham !

To make matters even worse it appears that  I was overcharged by £10 on my bill.  The manager is now ‘investigating’ and will get back to me – I hope he is a little more efficient than his staff.  Expect an update in a few weeks !

Update:

28th June 2010, 9.48am – The hotel manager emailed me to tell me he was ‘investigating’ my comments and he would get back to me.

30th June 2010, 10am – I am still waiting for his response…….

1st July 2010 – I have a reply from the Manager.  I should not have read the magazine that was left on my bed and opened on the page showing the offer or the T-shirts worn by the bar staff – I should have read the flyer he has now sent me.  The housekeeper will now provide ‘corrective action’ for the towel problem.  The delay at breakfast was all caused by Paul McCartney – too many guests were staying in the hotel.  There was no error on my bill despite my booking receipt and final bill differing by £10.

It is a good job I have always been a fan of Basil Fawlty !

8th July 2010 - Another letter has arrived from the Manager.  My booking receipt is wrong – the staff made a mistake and charged me £10 less than the receipt stated.  It was ‘human error’.

They were making mistakes before I arrived !

As a press photographer in Nottingham I get to meet many wonderful people. Recently the Daily Mail Weekend magazine gave me a three-part feature for their ‘dating’ page.   I was to tag along with the same couple on three different dates to illustrate an article on blind dates.

I turned up for the first date full of good intentions and determined to do my best ‘Cilla Black’ match making.  We all met at a Salsa Class in the upstairs room of a very dark pub on a cold, wet Friday night – not the best of starts.  Eric is a 40-year-old building surveyor from Derby and his date was Lisa a 41-year-old who works in finance from Nottingham.  Because of the poor lighting I had to be a little more obvious than I had hoped but things went quite well.  Lisa & Eric seemed to get along OK despite me being a bit of a pain and, most importantly, I had my pictures.

Date two was a trip to the new Nottingham Contemporary Art Gallery.  We all met up and were taken on a guided tour.  Things were slightly better this time and Eric was even cracking a few jokes at my expense.

Then we came to date three, Newstead Abbey, the former home of the legendary lover Lord Byron.  I arrived early on the beautiful Sunday morning and proceeded to our meeting point in the Abbey cafe.  I met up with the guide before the happy couple arrived and I suggested I take my pictures and then leave the couple to their romantic stroll around the Abbey – that was agreed.

Eric & Lisa appeared as arranged and after a walk around the grounds to take the pictures we wandered back into the cafe to rejoin the guide.  I was making my excuses and thanking everyone for their trouble when Lisa suggested I join them on their guided tour.  The guide joined in by saying we could walk together and leave the ‘lovers’ on their own.  What do I do now ?  Do I upset them by refusing their offer or go along as ‘the gooseberry’ ?

I have never had the chance to look around the inside of Newstead Abbey, so I decided to go along.  This did not go down too well with Eric but I had now said I would go – I was stuck.

Eric was not happy, but I kept out-of-the-way and did not take any pictures to ruin the moment, as we had agreed.

I kept my distance and never said a word, as soon as the tour finished it was a quick thank you, goodbye and I was off……

A few week later the article appeared and I discovered the headline ‘Lisa asked the photographer to join us, like she needed a chaperone’.

Sorry Eric, I did not mean to ruin your date – so it looks like I will not be replacing Cilla Black after all !

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Sorry for the break in the posts – I have been on a mini tour of Scotland.

Golf is a wonderful but frustrating game.  The one thing that makes it very special is the fact that any club golfer can pay their money and play the great courses of the world.

Two weeks ago we set off for Turnberry, the scene of last years Open Championship.  To walk out onto the first tee still sends a tingle down your spine even though you are only being watched by your playing partners and the official starter. I hit a nice five iron down the left followed by a seven iron onto the green – leaving a twelve foot put for birdie.  Things were looking good and then the ‘Birthday Boy’ sank his fifteen foot put for birdie.  I missed, made a par and walked off one down.  The ‘Birthday Boy’ then shot about 2 over par and gave us all a golfing lesson.  Great day, great trip, great course.

On the way home we called into my ‘home’ course at Silloth on Solway.  This is a superb links course but it is tucked away on the Cumbrian coast and so its gets missed off the golfing map.  I am biased but my playing partners said it was ‘better and tougher than Turnberry’.

This week I headed north again with a group of Cumbrians.  We stopped off at Archerfield near North Berwick for a day of ‘Multi-Millionaires’ golf.  Archerfield is golf at its best.  You get ProV1 balls in little pyramids on the practise ground !

Next stop was Carnoustie – scene of the famous Jean Van der Velde open – which one of us would be paddling in the Barry Burn ?

The hotel was fantastic and this was the view from my room

Three rounds followed on the Carnoustie courses.  The wind was a light breeze for the first followed by a mild gale for the second.  But the golfing gods were kind and we only had to cope with a mild breeze on the Championship Course.  This is without doubt the toughest golf course I have played.  Par 4′s are 400 yards plus.  The course has more bunkers than Adolf Hitler.  If you did hit a fairway the ball was sucked towards the bunkers – if you got into one your were lucky to see what was in front of you and your ball was not going very far forward !

To finish the round you have a 230 yard par 3 into the wind.  It was the first time I have ever hit driver to a par 3.  Then comes a par 4 which crosses the Barry Burn twice.  The last hole again crosses the Burn twice.

We finished our trip by calling in at Monifieth, an Open Qualifying course just down the coast.  The practise must have worked because I shot a 4 over par 75 to finish my holiday in style.

Another great set of golf courses – if you play golf pay the money and have a go – you will love it.

The clocks go forward this weekend – summer is just around the corner – the serious golf season has arrived.

After trudging through snow, ice and mud this winter I can now enjoy some sunshine.

Well that has been my thoughts each morning as I lounge in bed watching the breakfast news with the sun beaming in through the blinds.

Then, she appears, the witch of doom who delivers the weather forecast and dashes all my hopes.

Every day this week she has told us it is going to be horrible today but getting better tomorrow.

Do I bother to get out of bed ?

Dare I risk a trip to golf or should I stay at home and avoid the impending storm ?

The answer should be simple, if the BBC say it is going to rain get onto the golf course – I cannot remember the last time their forecast was correct !

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Nothing much surprises me in life any more.  In my job I have seen most things from disasters to freaks of nature.  The variety makes the job so interesting.

But I must admit it does get to me that our new breed of TV and media sports pundits all appear to be the blokes who never quite made the most of their talent, if they had any at all.  Suddenly these guys are telling our modern stars where they are going wrong.  It seems to me that failure and scandal gets rewarded in TV these days.  John Terry and Ashley Cole must be next in line !

A few days ago Chris Waddle, the man who bottled more penalties in big games than most, was complaining about Theo Walcott.

Now I remember Waddle as the bloke who looked like he was in pain every time he stepped onto a football pitch.  The head was down and he looked like it was all a big chore.  He was so ‘one footed’ it was unbelievable.

Waddle also missed penalties in the World Cup semi-final and a few other big games.  The last time I photographed him he was playing for Worksop Town in front of 500 people and three dogs.  The same Chris Waddle this week told us all how he spent hours working on his ‘weak side’.  It was a shame he never took penalties, or pelanties as Waddle calls them, with his weak side right foot !

Then we have Stanley Collymore, the man who was world class with a fire extinguisher and then developed a passion for ‘dogging’.  Stan was actually one of the best players I have ever seen but he could not handle the pressure.  What a waste of talent, but at least he had some.  How can he criticise people after the mistakes he has made in his life ?

Garry Birtles is another former superstar.  He might have won two European Cups with Nottingham Forest but he is best remembered by some for failing to score a goal for months after signing for Manchester United.

I have photographed Garry several times, including during his failed stint as manager of Gresley Rovers.  On our first meeting he brought out all his medals and trophies.  I said I had seen him play a lot.  He gave a big smile and asked which games.  “The first 30 odd at United,” I replied.  The smile disappeared instantly !

Cheeky cockney chappy Jamie Redknapp is another fine example.  Why do Sky employ a man who struggles to speak good English ?

The latest to join the line of ‘experts’ is good old Robbie Savage.  Now I like Robbie as a footballer – he gives his all, and fans, like me, enjoy seeing that – but Robbie ‘the expert’ leaves a lot to be desired.  I had the pleasure of photographing Robbie for his début newspaper column last year

Robbie arrived late, as usual for a footballer, with the opening line: “I have got five minutes, what do you want ?”

“We need some pictures for your new column.  I need some portraits and then what ever you are going to write about,” I said.

“I don’t know what I am writing about,” replied Robbie.

“It is your column, what have you talked about ?” I said.

“No idea.  Just take a few pictures,” said the football expert.

Sports star to TV star in one easy sentence !

That was a very interesting week, with several appearances from some old friends !

Ray Gosling started things with his TV ‘mercy killing’ confession.  I photographed Ray in the early 90′s at his home in Nottingham.  He was a complex character even then.  I have been inside some places in my career but his house was a one off.  His office was crammed with paperwork, from floor to ceiling.  Ray gave the impression that this was normal.

He was good to work with and certainly cooperative.  It was a shame to see him on TV and the chaos that followed.  It was also disappointing to see the BBC go from ‘our’ Ray to ‘freelance broadcaster and writer Ray’ as soon as things started to get difficult.  I hope they were more supportive to Ray in private.

Later in the week I bumped into one of my old mentors, John Walsh.  ‘Walshie’ was my first sports editor and he encouraged me to photograph dozens of sports events.  I tried my best with limited equipment and under almost impossible conditions.  But no matter what I produced Walshie was always supportive and appeared grateful.  A little bit of praise always made me try that little bit harder for Walshie, he is definitely one of the good guys.  A few picture editors could learn a lot from Walshie.

Walshie has reported on Workington Reds football team for as long as anyone can remember.  The Reds were in the football league when I was a kid.  My first experience of football was at Borough Park and I loved it from the first minute.  Sadly, as records show, Workington were one of the worst teams to ever grace the football league but that made no difference to me.

Several years later Walshie used to send me along to photograph the Reds games.  By then they were out of the league but it was still a trip to Borough Park and I was getting paid to go.  A lot of people said you should have been paid to watch the Reds in those days !

Just before the start of the new season Walshie phoned down to photographic: “What you doing on Saturday kid ?”.  “Nothing, it’s my weekend off”: I replied.  “Fancy a game of football ?  The Reds are going to Stockton for a friendly and we are taking a social team, you can play if you want”.

So, that Saturday morning I climbed aboard the Reds team bus for the trip to Stockton.  When we arrived it was announced that the ‘proper’ team would play first and the social match would follow.  So, I popped into the clubhouse and ordered a drink and some lunch.  Ten minutes later Walshie rushed in: “What are you doing ?  Go and get changed, you are playing in 5 mins”.  He had got me a game in the first team !

That afternoon I pulled on the famous red shirt, the same one that  I had watched being used in the league a few seasons earlier.  The Reds were not a wealthy club and new kit was a novelty in those days.

It was fantastic, the day I had dreamed about as a child.  Me, in a team of professional footballers.  I played OK and I even set up our equaliser in a 1-1 draw.  Sadly there was no fairytale ending, I blew my big chance for glory.  In the last minute I blasted a great chance over the bar from 18 yards and I was back to being a photographer.  As Walshie said to me on Saturday after the Reds had lost to a 95th minute goal in the FA Trophy quarter final: “football is a cruel game sometimes !”.

I was born in the Lake District town of Keswick.  My family live there and it will always be my home.  The Cumbrian town has always been a magnet for retired people and consequently it has a population with more elderly people than your average place in England.

As a trainee photographer on my local evening paper I used to pop into the old people’s home  (sorry, residential care home) to do various jobs.  Ravensfield was that place.  A sanctuary where you could live out the last few years of your life with some company and some dignity.  The staff were friendly and helpful and all the residents seemed very happy.

Last December Keswick was hit by severe flooding, it was not quite as bad as the nearby towns of Cockermouth and Workington but it did suffer.

Ravensfield was built near to the river but because of the flooding risk it was raised well above ground level.  People were aware of a flood risk all those years ago.  Keswick has flooded for as long as I can remember and I can tell you exactly which parts of the town will flood, it is nothing new.

During the December floods Ravensfield was evacuated, but the building never actually flooded.  The car park did but the building itself stayed dry.  The residents were dispersed to other care homes around the county, some as far as 30-40 miles away.

Over the years flood defences have been built to hold back the River Greta on High Hill.  In the past they even put sand bags on top of the walls for added protection.

But now Cumbria County Council have decided that Ravensfield must close.  It is under too much risk from future flooding !

So a building that did not flood during the worst storm Cumbria has seen for 200 years is now at risk.  They claim that the flood defences are unsafe.  Why don’t they fix them ?  Could it just be an easy way to shut Ravensfield and save some money ?   Or, do Cumbria County Council know something we don’t know ?  Should we all be building our arks ?  Is Keswick about to be washed away ?

Ravensfield could be kept open for less money than our wonderful MPs pick up in expenses on their second homes.  They all have two places to live, why not let the elderly people of Keswick have one home ?  They need a place in their own town, living with people they know and where relatives can easily visit.

BBC North East & Cumbria have now covered this story (9th Feb).  To watch the video click here.