Fastport
(View of the old tram sheds: Carlisle, England)
Since I’ve been mainly holed up in the house, working, I haven’t had time to flounce around Carlisle much since I’ve been here. I spent a good part of today working on illustrations for possible work in Singapore – as with everything else I’ve done in 2011, it’s a waiting game. On the way to pick my mother up from work, I noticed how beautiful this building is. I had guessed it was some sort of storage shed before she revealed that this was one of the old tram sheds, back when Carlisle had its own system of trams. It has a wonderful curve, stretching back on the left hand side of the façade. I love the rich colour of the buildings in Carlisle, all markedly rosy in buoyantly jolly sandstone. Bathed in afternoon light, it must have been a handsome building once, before the trams were decommissioned and the industrial prowess (yes, I said prowess) of Carlisle came to an end.
On a completely unrelated note, today was another administrative adventure; not only am I contending with the constant emailing and submitting of new work, but also the looming possibility that I may have jeopardised a planned Singapore trip because of a passport issue. I still have six months left on my current passport, but I just learned this evening that Singapore is one of the countries that insists on there being six months left on the passport at the time of travel. I miss it by less than a month. After being on the receiving end of very vocal and well deserved) concern of a panic stricken and sleep deprived Ying, I made a quick telephone call to make an appointment for a quickie passport. If I attend the appointment in Glasgow tomorrow afternoon, it is guaranteed to arrive one working day before my departure. Another close call. However, to be fair, how could I know that the expiry date on a passport only gives a rough indication of its actual validity outside the European Union?
I am not sad to be rid of my current passport in which I look spookily like an effeminate, but still upsettingly convincing man. It boasts an unfortunate photograph revealing a diabolical teenage haircut and also highlighting the fact that I had never laid my hands on eyebrow tweezers nor a stroke of makeup. Even my mother commented on it tonight when I produced the document. “Oh dear. No, you’re right, it really isn’t flattering, is it?” Thank you, mum.
– Today Rosie is going back to Glasgow to renew her passport, Scotland –
You’re markedly Rosie…