Atget's Paris and Ollie's Brighton

One of my photographer heroes is Eugène Atget who in the late 19th Century and early 20th Century methodically captured old Paris, photographing it street by street. I have a treasured book, Atget's Paris, containing some 800 images, most of which were taken in the early morning light suggesting a 'mysteriously deserted city', yet with a 'haunting, poetic quality', as the foreword described it.

During this current extraordinary time, I felt the need to occupy myself by trying to capture some of the same solitude that Eugène Atget found on the streets of his beloved city - on the deserted streets of mine.

I am not an early morning person, but I went out when I could during the day and evening to photograph the remarkable emptiness of Brighton & Hove's streets and open spaces, which would usually be thronging with visitors and revellers, particularly in fine, summer weather.

Amid the trauma of the news, my daily outings have proved a solace, knowing that I am recording Brighton & Hove in a situation that may never occur again in my lifetime.

Eugène Atget's photographs were not entirely devoid of life; sometimes some shadowy citizens, a cat or a horse-drawn carriage would appear. 

I also found the occasional visitor entering my pictures, escaping, like me, from the misery of lockdown for some exercise.

As a commuter, Brighton Station, devoid of passengers with just a couple of staff on the spotless concourse, struck me as particularly strange.

On my daily traipses, I encountered little acts of kindness and signs of love, as well as misery and despair.

It helped me. This has not been an easy time for anyone. 

Many of us are shocked by the inept handling of the crisis by a government that seemed to get off to a fair start. 

The daily news updates have scared half the population witless, while the police seem to have lost the plot, virtually giving up on crime busting.

One hell of an independent inquiry is needed into how Britain got it so wrong.

Meanwhile, runners and cyclists have gone feral, taking over the roads and streets; the air has been cleaner, and the birds have been audible.

Everyone has a viewpoint. Almost no one agrees. 

Like Eugène Atget, I have simply tried to observe and record.

I haven't enjoyed lockdown. But I have tried to accept the situation, stay positive and make the most of it.

One day, perhaps, schoolchildren will study this most strange period in our history - and I hope these 35 pictures of mine will give them an inkling of just how surreal life truly was in the Summer of 2020 in Brighton & Hove.

The Goodness of Mod-kind

It has been a traumatic time. On Tuesday night (28 April 2020), I slept very badly, racked with anxiety about various matters, and awoke at 7am on Wednesday morning feeling terrible. I looked out of the hall window and could not believe my eyes. My beloved Vespa PX125 scooter was gone - stolen during the night.

It seemed a thief or thieves had taken it, abandoning the cover (after weeing on it) and also, bizarrely, leaving another scooter, a Honda. It was one of those occasions in life (sadly, there have been a few) when what was happening was too appalling for me to comprehend fully.

I tried to stop shaking and phoned 101 to speak to the Sussex Police call centre, where an assistant took the details and gave me a crime reference number. I mentioned the abandoned Honda scooter but, after doing a quick computer check, she told me it was not "marked" as stolen and was, therefore, not a vehicle of interest.

"Not yet," I said. "The owner may not have noticed it gone."  

After notifying my insurance company of the theft, despite being dog tired I embarked on an investigation.

First, I posted the picture my Vespa - called Amy, after Amy Winehouse - on Facebook, particularly a a page dedicated to Mods and scooters.

I was overwhelmed by the response. My first posting informing people of the theft and describing the scooter, its location and other pertinent details went on to be shared 1,300 times!

That is incredible! I want to say a heartfelt thankyou to all the Mods, other scooterists, friends and wellwishers who helped me in my hour of need.   

I phoned my neighbours Chris and Anna, who live opposite. Chris is a biker with a big Indian [brand not nationality] motorbike. They immediately asked me round to look at their CCTV footage, which caught the crime very precisely.

The two crooks arrived on the Honda scooter, abandoned it in my courtyard and then wandered up and down the tunnel opposite, checking the coast was clear.

They then ripped the cover from my Vespa, managed to break the steering lock and wheeled the scooter out of my courtyard and through the tunnel to get it to a place where they could hotwire and start it without being seen. I took a clip, showing the thieves' faces, and put it out on Facebook.

My other neighbours were also on the case. Alex, who lives opposite us, found a receipt from a garage under the seat of the abandoned Honda scooter. On it was the owner's name. There was also a Deliveroo vest.

He called Deliveroo but said they didn't seem interested in helping unite one of their riders with his scooter. Luckily, the garage called back, however, and gave us the owner's number. He turned up later, with ID, and was delighted to reclaim his bike. No thanks to the cops or his employers!

I was also very lucky. The video showed the thieves struggling to start Amy the Vespa. Obviously, they did not have the key and, therefore, kickstarting would not work.

So, I went looking for it - and, to my enormous relief, found it abandoned in the doorway of a block of flats. God, I was so relieved. My Vespa, with the windshield bought by my late mum as a birthday present for me years ago and its other additions, was irreplaceable to me.

It was slightly damaged. The thieves had tried to push in an indicator light to get to the wiring, but was basically all right.

I updated Facebook and received more supportive comments and shares. The reaction, from all over Britain, shows what a wonderful fraternity the scooter world is.

Since then I have been upping up security. Gordon, who runs Gee-Whizz Cycles, got in touch on Facebook to say he had a "ground hook", which he later sold me at trade price, and my neighbour Chris bolted it to the courtyard wall.

So, my Vespa is now chained to something solid. I also upgraded my lock and chain at B & Q in Shoreham where the check-out guy, a biker, said he had had the picture of my scooter on his phone and been looking out for it.

The kindness of so many people is awe-inspiring.

By Thursday, I had recovered enough to Clap the NHS. I think this is important. Nurses, carers, doctors and paramedics are heroically putting their lives at risk during the Covid-19 crisis.

More than that, though, I feel we need to acknowledge all the other plucky public-facing workers at this time, whether they be cleaners, bus drivers, postal workers, funeral directors, prisons staff, homelessness frontline staff and other out-facing charity workers, delivery riders, supermarket and newsagent staff and the many, many other unsung heroes of our lockdown times.

It seems strange to me how few restaurants, cafes and coffee shops are open at this time when they have not been forced to close for takeaway sales.

This makes the staff of those who have stayed open for their customers all the more special.

Why have all the major coffee shop chains fecklessly closed when they could do takeaways? Caffe Nero could have been Caffe Hero instead of Caffe Zero!

Why are McDonald's and Subway (a takeaway, for goodness sake) closed while KFC bravely manages to stay open for take outs?

People like my friend Trevor at Oh My Cod on Brighton seafront - or Mark at the Pump Room, who have kept their cafes open as takeaways, with suitable social distancing in effect in the queue, deserve a clap of appreciation!

That's why, this Thursday, I encourage you all to clap not just for the NHS but for ALL out-facing workers - whatever they do!