It's a Bank Holiday weekend in the UK, the last break before that long, slow slog to Christmas. The date means something else to me now because, six years ago this weekend, I photographed the last wedding I would ever shoot before I moved to France. It began at a church in Altrincham and moved to a reception in Manchester city centre, and I remember sitting at a roof-top bar whilst I waited for the meal to finish, reflecting that I would probably never do anything like that again ..
The thing is, I thought I'd miss it like hell. After all, I'd concentrated on wedding photography for seventeen years up to that date. But the surprising thing is, I didn't. Once I'd got into the swing of life in France, I never gave wedding photography a second thought. (In fact, I've even turned down the offer of shooting a couple over here). Those days have gone. I'm a different 'me' now. A retired 'me', a more relaxed 'me', a 'me' that doesn't have to work all the hours God gives me just to maintain a presence in a completely flooded and clichéd market. So never again will you see me at Peckforton Castle, up a ladder with a Mamiya RZ67 Pro strapped to the top, shooting a mere twelve frames before I had to change the film ..
Come to think of it, they were bloody great, those days ..
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