Liege with a Leica iiig, Elmar 50mm f3.5, FP4, Fomapan 100 in PMK Pyro and an accident

It was the weather we all know and love so much as photographers – dull, miserable, cold, a hint of fog but not enough to be interesting, and a soupçon of fine rain (featured image). We arrived for a one night stay having planned the trip when the unerringly accurate weather forecast was part sun / part cloud.

Liege is the capital of Wallonia, the industrial former powerhouse of Belgium, population a little under 700,000 but has two concert halls and an opera house (playing “Tristan und Isolde” when we were there). Walking down the hill from our hotel led to 150 steps taking us to the ‘old town’.

Typical narrow cobbled streets had different cobbles running along the centres over the modern drains – and presumably where the drains were in medieval times when “regardez leau” was a shout from above not to be ignored.

On the way we passed the vandalised office of BNP – apparently a protest against BNP’s supposed involvement in and indirect support of Israel in its war against the Palestinians.

The old town is primarily a shopping area plus drinking and eating places for locals and tourists typical of many old European cities. We were more interested in signs of the city’s former glory so heading back up the 150 steps and turning east it took us to signs of Liege’s former wealth and importance – the Provincial Palace – built, destroyed and rebuilt many times over the past 1000 years.

Continuing east along a wide street with many impressive late 17th and 18thCE buildings we came to one of Liege’s top attractions: the short-cut between the former military barracks and fort (now little more than rubble) and the town below.

From the top it looks worse

Having got there we were greeted by a further 60 steps to the monument and the view of the town – or not, today (above and featured image). It was here that I lowered my arm with the camera hanging by a Hawkesmill wrist strap. The strap has been well used though largely looks like new, but the “keeper” (the little strap around the main strap which allows you to tighten the main strap around your wrist) had unknown to me become loose and slid away from my wrist meaning the strap itself was now loose. Have you heard the sound of chromed brass crashing onto concrete? I unreservedly expressed my opinion of the strap in a rather cross and loud tone.

Encouraged by my wife, a quiet pause followed. After some collection of my thoughts I checked the camera: wind on, shutter cocking, rangefinder alignment and accuracy, shutter firing – all seemed (and was) well apart from the dent on the top-plate adding to the one that was already there (not made be me). That’s only the second time in 50 years I have dropped a camera. The previous time a new Leica MP fell about 30cm from the floor of the car to the tarmac when I opened the car door. The camera no longer worked. Old Leica versus new Leica – old wins.

Rather than tackle the now scary looking 374 steps down we decided to take the easy route, a gently sloping road and a mere 100 steps.

The following morning we headed to the train station and home via a local train travelling along by the river and former industrial sites – a project for another day. Liege’s train station is ultra-modern and just as impressive as Antwerp’s very different station.

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