After visiting Northcote, I convinced the other half to go to Preston. Last time we took a detour home via a North West town, we ended up in the Magical Moomin Valley, so I have form in delivering quality experiences.
The reason I wanted to go was to see, first hand, the marvel that is Preston Bus Station and car park. Preston Bus Station is a Brutalist masterpiece, a structure built to last, to provide a public service through pure form and design.
If you can’t say everything you need to in a fifteen-page short story, you’ve pretty much failed. As I get older, and “wiser”, I realise this is true in all things. Samuel Beckett’s bare(ly) theatre of Krapp’s Last Tape, Not I, Jørgen Leth’s Det Perfekte Menneske, Tony Conrad‘s Slapping Pythagoras, this bicycle rack, these buildings, and Jason.