Last week I ventured out to take pictures for project 4 x 4 x 4 for the first time since 13th March. Back then I travelled amidst a panicky looking public through walking, bus and train travel. This time I travelled by bicycle, weighed down by kit, but buoyed by the freedom to go amongst the people, albeit always with distance in mind. I will write more about that trip once I have some pictures, for now it’s all about movement.

Early on in these blogposts I briefly described how the project idea had formulated from several trains of thought. My general interest in human behaviour was certainly a factor; we were not long after the EU Referendum in 2016, and I had been reflecting heavily on the result, questioning how we had got to the point where more people had voted to detach ourselves from Europe than to stay united. I tend to see division in a cultural context in the negative, and so I felt compelled to explore the things that connect us (that will be everything most likely).

Bringing it into more practical realms, one theme kept presenting itself to me, both by chance encounter and through texts and exhibitions that I saw. That theme was the American road trip, and more specifically how it has remained a constant source of exploration and discovery for photographers (and writers) most notably since the 1950’s.

Despite my love of travelling, and having at least been a passenger on a short car-journey on the west coast of America, I realised that I would never be able to lead my own road trip with myself at the wheel… I passed my driving test a couple of months before my 18th birthday, and subsequently suffered a stroke aged twenty which left me with a deficit of vision on my righthand side, too much of a deficit to be able to drive legally. I have some great memories of my short driving career, like the time I took a corner too sharp on a country lane with a bunch of mates in the back, or the first time I drove on the motorway after dropping our parents at the airport. My brother was told to make sure I drove sensibly, but he’s a great brother, and let me floor it all the way home! Maybe it is best that I had to forgo my driving.

Anyway, all that happened a long time ago, and it could have been much worse, but I loved driving, and it will remain a permanent frustration for me.

Fitting that fact into the context of the project, I asked myself Why not England, and why not by other means? Thus creating my own version of an English road trip. I am travelling in four directions: north, east, south and west, by four modes of transport: cycling, walking, train and bus, at four distances: 5, 10, 20 and 40 miles. The way I travel will be mixed up, but I do not intend to walk twenty or forty miles to any of the destinations. I shall visit sixteen places in total, many of which will be visited at least twice.

Movement has always been a big part of my life: traversing spaces and observing the world around me. I can’t really explain it, it’s just always been that way.

I was fortunate enough to grow up in a time and place where roaming wasn’t so weird for a child, and I always had the urge to explore. I learned to ride a bike early and once I hit double figures I would make the journey by bicycle to visit my Gran who lived a few miles in one direction, and my Aunty Shirley who lived a few miles in another. That would generally take me along an old railway path, and some back roads that may have been classed as countryside. A sense of going somewhere has always excited me.

I normally associate cycling with a sense of freedom, flexibility and speed. For this project I have fitted a bike-rack to my bicycle, so I can transport my tripod. I am also weighed down with camera kit on my back, so there is not much speed involved. Last week’s outing was made all the more enjoyable because there were designated cycleways for much of my journey, and right now the roads are less congested, so it was a pleasant experience all-around.

If you’re wondering how come I ride a bike when I cannot drive, it’s probably because I don’t like being told I can’t do things that I enjoy. In a roomful of consultants, more than two decades ago I was told that there is no law against cycling, but they didn’t recommend it. I didn’t ride my bike much as my son was growing up, just in case I got splatted, and although we’d all be upset if the worst happened, I do ride sensibly, and with extra vigilance: so far so good 🤞🏼

Walking is so natural to us, and our design, but many people had forgotten the fine art of walking, seeing it as a slow and ineffective mode of travel. That was until we found ourselves in lockdown, and walking, being accessible to most, became a daily pursuit. I do hope this is a trend that lingers.

Walking has been proven to have multiple health benefits, both physical and mental. It allows a place to switch off from inner-noise and to give space to thought.

So far, the most I have walked to a destination is five miles. Walking is slow in comparison to other modes of transport, and with a heavy load it is not that enjoyable to trek so far.

Sometime last year I applied for funding from the Arts Council. Sadly my application was unsuccessful, but I had to provide a Letter of Support. That was kindly provided by Tim Butcher who, at the time was Senior Lecturer in Organisation Studies at the Open University, and Deputy Editor of fLIP magazine of which I was the editor. Here is an excerpt from Tim’s letter:

“As the road trip is a particularly American way of orienting the Self, train travel and walking are particularly English pursuits that have become cultural points of reference. Yet so few of us explore the isle in such ways anymore. Amanda’s project could very well draw out vivid insights into the psychogeography of contemporary English life, that might reinvigorate public interest in such vital ways of seeing”.

Buses are unusual spaces, where you can eavesdrop/overhear people’s phone conversations and create stories about your fellow passengers. You can float off into a daydream, plan your day, or look out the window as the world passes by. In London you may also get stuck in traffic, squashed up with your fellow passengers or annoyed by loud groups of teenagers or aggressive singletons who sit erect, playing loud music, almost inviting a reaction.

The bus network in London is very convenient, and ordinarily runs a frequent service. It is strange not to be hopping on and off buses.

I have spent a lot of time on trains in my life: taking a twenty minute journey each way every day through my A levels, inter-railing as a teenager and visiting home in adulthood. It’s my favourite way to travel: where else can you sit down, relax if you like, work if you must, have a drink, any kind, and watch the world whizz by?!

With regard to the project, as much as possible I use the time in transit to bring me into a particular headspace, much like you would before offering any kind of presentation or performance. I find this easiest on a train, as they are normally quiet, and not much is required of the passenger, although for me there is still always a sense of anticipation which I relish.

As Mark Twain once said:

Your road is everything that a road ought to be…

and yet you will not stay in it half a mile, for the reason that little, seductive, mysterious roads are always branching out from it on either hand, and as these curve sharply also and hide what is beyond, you cannot resist the temptation to desert your own chosen road and explore them.

For all of you that love to explore, I wish you well on your journeys, and remember: you don’t have to travel far to find joy and adventure!

Onward….

Amanda x