Space, the final frontier – 1960’s style

Space, the final frontier – 1960’s style

Space, the final frontier – 1960’s style

A couple of weeks ago, I published a blog called ‘London Lost’, about how I’d found a box of old slides from the 1950’s and 60’s and spent a very pleasant hour or so flicking through them to see what secrets they held. While most of them were family photos, some were of London and others were part of a collection about space, including the Apollo 11 moon landing and one of the first ever spacewalks. At the time, I promised to share those with you in a future blog and so, not being one to dilly-dally, here they are.

Unlike the slides in ‘London Lost’, which had suffered the ravages of time, albeit in a way that I think greatly enhanced them, most of the space slides haven’t done quite as badly and retain more of their original and in my view, fabulous 1960’s colour palette… which you just don’t get with today’s ultra-clear, high definition images. Okay, so they are a little grainy, but then what do you expect for pictures taken almost fifty years ago?

So, once again, grab yourself a cup of something warm (or cool, depending on where you’re from), sit back somewhere comfortable and lose yourself in a pictorial journey through time and space.

Starting from the beginning, we’ve got a few general images of the Earth from space, just to help set the scene and let you know where you are… or where you should be if you’re currently somewhere else.

Space - Earth from Apollo 12. Rob Gregory Author

Unless you are ET, this is your home. Abuse it at your peril!


Space - Earth from 160,000 miles. Rob Gregory Author

Earth from 160,000 miles. I can see your house from here!

Then we have a few slides of the Gemini missions, namely Gemini 4 and 7, which preceded the Apollo missions that ultimately placed a man on the moon, back in 1969. The Gemini missions were important because they allowed key techniques and manoeuvres to be perfected before the Apollo missions were launched.

Space - Gemini 4 spacewalk. Rob Gregory Author

Gemini 4 spacewalk – Not quite walking on the moon, but not bad nontheless!


Space - Gemini spacewalk close up. Rob Gregory Author

Only the second ever spacewalk and already the tape player has packed up!


Space - Gemini 7. Rob Gregory Author

Gemini 7 from Gemini 6 – Please engage reverse… now!

Moving on, we’re now right up there with the big boys, starting with Apollo 9, which saw the first successful test of the complete Apollo spacecraft, including the famous Lunar Module, or ‘LEM’.

Space - Apollo 9. Rob Gregory Author

Apollo 9 in orbit above Earth, just in case you were wondering.


Space - Apollo 9 and LEM. Rob Gregory Author

The LEM… not to be confused with Lemmy from Motorhead. Do so at your peril!

Then, it’s the main event. The one that everyone (or almost everyone these days) knows about, Apollo 11. Buzz Aldrin, Neil Armstrong, the first two men on the moon and poor old Michael Collins, who piloted the command module alone while his colleagues were bouncing around on the lunar surface. Some people get all the luck!

Space - Apollo 11 Launch. Rob Gregory Author

Apollo 11 – Are we there yet?


Space - Aldrin descending the LEM. Rob Gregory Author

This is a bad time to be scared of heights, Buzz!


Space - Aldrin on the moon. Rob Gregory Author

Now, which camera do you want me to look at, Mister Kubrick?


Space - erecting Apollo 11's solar sheet. Rob Gregory Author

Neil, what was this bit for again? Erecting the solar wind sheet during the Apollo 11 mission.


Space - Looking at the LEM. Rob Gregory Author

Inspecting the LEM foot pad – Looks OK to me. In fact, it looks amazing!

In lieu of a brief interlude after all that excitement, here are a couple of calming images of our nearest celestial neighbour, the moon. Beautiful, alluring and sitting a mere 252,000 or so miles away, completely beyond the reach of most of us!

Space - the moon. Rob Gregory Author

The Moon – Your next holiday destination?


Space - The moom in close up. Rob Gregory Author

Some nice looking craters on the lunar farside, but watch out for Clangers!

Following that, we’re on to some of the less well-known Apollo missions, namely Apollo 12 and 14. Funnily enough, there aren’t any pictures of the Apollo 13 mission, which saw Captain James Lovell and his crew stuck in space for six days, following an accident, until they made a heroic and successful re-entry into the Pacific Ocean, on 17 April 1970. Arguably, because of the Apollo 13 film by Ron Howard, starring Tom Hanks, Kevin Bacon, Gary Sinise and the now sadly departed, Bill Paxton, the Apollo 13 mission is probably NASA’s best-known space mission, even though it didn’t achieve its original objective.

Space - Apollo 12. Rob Gregory Author

Apollo 12 – One good launch deserves another!


Space - Apollo 12 astronauts. Rob Gregory Author

Apollo 12 astronauts – Just for information, you need to put these guys inside, before you launch the rocket!


Space - Apollo 12 descent. Rob Gregory Author

Apollo 12 descent. Hang on, if there’s no one there, how come the camera is still running?


Space - Apollo 12 splashdown. Rob Gregory Author

Apollo 12 spalshdown… or down to earth with a bump if you get it wrong!


Space - Apollo 14 rocket. Rob Gregory Author

Apollo 14 – Saturn 5 rocket. I built one when I was a kid; a model one that is.


Space - Apollo 14 firing room. Rob Gregory Author

Apollo 14 firing room – When I push this button…

Finally, to wrap things up, we gaze outward, as man has done ever since he first looked at the heavens to see some of the most iconic astronomical groupings in space, including the Orion Nebula and the ever-dazzling Pleiades, or Seven Sisters as they are also known.

Space - Orion nebula. Rob Gregory Author

The Orion nebula – A great big, but very pretty, cloud of gas.


Space - The Andromeda Galaxy. Rob Gregory Author

The Andromeda galaxy. Home to the ‘Andromeda Strain’, so don’t even think of visiting!


Space - The Pleiades in Taurus. Rob Gregory Author

The Pleiades in Taurus. If only all stars looked like this.

Note: Originally, all of these images would have come from NASA, but seeing as they were part of a commercially available collection that was intended for sale, I don’t think that they’ll mind me dusting them off and sharing them with you just this once. I hope that you enjoyed them!

If you liked this blog, then please check out ‘London Lost’, as well as my other blogs. And please do feel free to share more widely!

The Garden Party

The Garden Party

Or what happens when you let an author loose

… A humorous short story about English garden parties…

The following tale was inspired by the classic British comedy series, ‘Stella Street’

Deep in the bowels of the palatial mansion that I call home, lies my ‘prison study’. You may have heard me refer to it in a previous post and it is the place where I spend most of my time when I’m trying to write. In fact, I’m sitting here right now, on a splinter-ridden, one-legged stool, watching the water drip off the damp stone walls and run down my monitor screen. I could wipe it off, but there’s no point, as another rivulet will be along in a moment and besides, the screen might get blurry.

Anyway, I am required to sit here for at least twelve hours each day as part of the agreement that I foolishly made with the United Brethren of Illustrious Scribes (UBIS) and their parent organisation, the Global Authors Guild (GAG), when I first became a ‘struggling author’. So, every day, I enter the prison study and shut the heavy iron door behind me, trying to suppress the shudder that threatens to rise up inside as I hear the dreaded time-lock activate. Then it’s down to work, trying to craft high-quality blogs that will entertain and delight readers from all walks of life, hammering out as much of my latest novel as my tortured brain will permit and of course, Tweeting, Facebooking and social media’ing endless inanities into the Intersphere, in the hope that I will be able to attract a follower, or dare I say it, a customer to my website.

However, although this sounds like a pretty bleak and foreboding existence, it does occasionally have its upsides and last week, my masters released me from my bondage a couple of hours early, so that I could attend a garden party that was being held by Brian May, one of my neighbours and owner of the local hairdressing salon. Now, Brian is a lovely chap and when he holds a garden party it is legendary. But he is known to be a bit of a queen, so you need to be careful about how you dress and what fragrance you choose to wear. I chose a nice, pale green ‘off the shoulder’ number, with a touch of Dior, so I knew that I was fine. Anyway, when I got there, the party was already well underway and I was very pleased to be able to catch up with Mick Jagger and Keith Richards, who run the garage down the road. They’d had my car in for some work for a couple of weeks and I wanted to find out how things were going. Unfortunately, the pair of them had already got properly stuck into the hotdogs and Pinot Gris, so I couldn’t get much sense out of them. Honestly, those boys always overdo it, they just can’t get no satisfaction.

The Garden Party - Pinot Gris. Rob Gregory Author

Be careful not to overdo the Pinot Gris, boys!

After an overly friendly peck on the cheek from Mick, I left them be and wandered over to the drinks table, where I bumped into Johnny Depp, our local greengrocer. He’s a wizard with a set of knives that’s for sure and was dicing cucumbers by the dozen, tossing them expertly into a jug of cold Pimm’s No1, which he was draining as fast as he was filling it. We had a bit of a chat about the current state of the greengrocery business, which unfortunately is struggling and may explain why Johnny has recently developed a fondness for the booze and partying, but he did mention that he was going to the Caribbean shortly, so maybe the break will do him some good.

While I was chatting to Johnny, we were joined by Morgan Freeman, the village butcher. Incidentally, his shop is right next door to Johnny’s greengrocers if you’re ever looking for it. I had to give him a pat on the back, the poor fellow. He’s always been the serious type, but we’ve gotten along fairly well over the years and he’s always been extremely generous when weighing out his meat, to me at least. Anyway, a couple of girls from the next village made some pretty unpleasant allegations about him a year or two ago and since then he’s had no end of trouble, including an unwanted Police investigation from Inspector Huey Lewis, which made the news and no doubt about it. I must say that I was rather surprised, but glad to see him out and about, as he had become something of a recluse for a while there.

The Garden Party - Kebabs. Rob Gregory Author

Brian always puts on a lovely spread when he’s entertaining.

Glancing around Brian’s back garden, I was quite impressed by the turnout. Matt Damon, who owns the organic farm with all the poly-tunnels on it was chatting happily to Gwyneth Paltrow, mobile beautician, over a glass of Merlot, although I suspect that there might have been something else in his drink, because Matt was starting to look a bit like a Martian from where I was standing. Major Tom Cruise, from the local army base, was also in attendance, looking fantastic in his uniform with all the shiny buttons and medals on it. I must admit that I had always thought he was taller, but then I’d only ever seen him from a distance before. Nonetheless, he was putting on a magnificent show, impressing a host of young ladies with one-armed push-ups, squats and a range of other extremely manly exercises, which for me would be a mission impossible. I was a bit concerned to see young Kevin Spacey, the wannabe journalist from the free weekly paper, taking such an interest in Major Tom’s athletic posing, but then I’ve always worried about him. What with his religious upbringing and all that, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already committed all of the seven deadly sins and is working on the next bunch.

As always at these type of gatherings, there was a moment of unpleasantness when Gwyneth’s boyfriend, Robert Downey Jr, who owns the local gym and is always training for an Ironman event, started picking on Matt. Thankfully, however, Father Bill Nighy, our well-loved vicar stepped in and calmed things down before they got out of hand. He really is a wonderful chap and so dedicated to the local parish. I mean he’s there all day, every day, locked away in the crypt, praying and then out and about every night, prowling the village in search of unworthy souls that he can send to the Underworld. I wish I had his dedication, not to mention his complexion.

The Garden Party - Backgarden. Rob Gregory Author

Brian’s back garden – Not bad for a hairdresser, although the hedge could do with a trim!

As the evening wore on and the sun dropped below the sky, things started to get a little bit silly. Pint-sized Danny DeVito, our resident undertaker, had obviously had a bit too much wine during the afternoon and was mocked unrelentingly by Roy Orbison, the blacksmith, for talking to a garden gnome for half an hour non-stop. Sting, who works at the little hotel in the centre of the village, arrived on his moped and caused a stir by trying to steal some of Major Tom’s girls from him. He nearly succeeded by the way, until Tom pushed him into a plate of blue turtles and someone called the Police.

Finally, with the garden party in full swing, the place was momentarily stunned into silence with the arrival of local bank manager, Harvey Weinstein, with a gaggle of young ladies of dubious origin in tow. He’s been a very naughty boy, that one, but because he’s got everyone’s savings locked up in his bank, no one can do anything about him. So, according to the excellent book entitled ‘The Freddy Mercury Guide to Successful Garden Parties and Marquee Events’, we simply ignored him and carried on talking amongst ourselves.

Well, I don’t know what time it was or how much I had had to drink, but the stars were just beginning to fade when Brian called an end to the garden party. Just at that moment, when I thought that I might be able to sneak another quick glass of Chardonnay from the drinks table, a heavy hand landed with a bone crushing thud on my shoulder and I was spun around into the impassive, ape-like face of one of my UBIS masters’ underlings. How they manage to get a gorilla to wear sunglasses, let alone shoehorn it into a suit is beyond me, but there was no arguing with the brute and probably for the best, I was escorted home to my prison study, where the door was slammed shut behind me.

So, there you have it. The life of a writer may seem like quite a solitary and unrewarding pursuit to some, but we do occasionally get out and when we do, it’s always fun!

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A question of drains

A question of drains

A question of drains

…tales from Reading Uni, part two…

During my time at Reading University in the early-1990’s, I had the pleasure to share a house with some truly wonderful people, most of whom remain good friends of mine to this day. Unfortunately, because of a problem with the landlords, who suddenly decided to come back from India after a fifteen-year absence right at the start of the new term, the beautiful, four-bedroom, detached house, in a fantastic suburb of Reading that we had arranged to rent many months in advance was brutally snatched away from us and we ended up in something far less glamorous.

The house in question, was your typical mid-terrace, semi-detached affair, with a living room and kitchen on the ground floor and two bedrooms, one front, one back, on the first floor. However, our particular house had some unusual and I suspect, not completely legal modifications, in order to maximise the amount of space available to house poor unsuspecting students. So, from the top down, we had:

  • A loft conversion, yielding two bedrooms (one biggish, one small) in the attic space.
  • Two bedrooms (both large) on the first floor. I had one of those, so was rather smug.
  • A living room on the ground floor (no surprises there).
  • A bedroom (mid-sized) on the ground floor where the kitchen should have been.
  • A small and damp cellar space for storage that was excellent for cultivating mould… one of which, a botanist friend identified as Aspergillus niger, a potentially toxic fungus.
  • An extension containing a small kitchen and thankfully, a separate bathroom and toilet.

A question of drains - The house of horror. Rob Gregory Author

Our house, in the middle of the street.

It is on this last area, the extension, that I will concentrate because this is where most of the action took place. For those not in the know, most, if not all houses, in the UK at the time were required to have walls two bricks thick, with a gap (cavity) between them to provide insulation and protection from the damp. In our case, the walls of the extension were only a single brick thick, with the result that not only were the kitchen and bathroom extremely damp, they were also bitterly cold during the winter months. This meant that while cooking was generally tolerable, as long as you stayed close to the burners, visits to the bathroom and toilet were excruciating experiences that would have been more at home on a Japanese game show, rather than in suburban England.

A question of drains - Leaning tower of Reading. Rob Gregory Author

There’s something not quite right with this extension.

As I mentioned above, there was some shared suspicion among my fellow housemates and I that the extension was not totally legal. The single-skin walls were one clue and the fact that the extension was not square with the rest of the house was another slight give away. However, it was not until later in the year, when our solitary toilet became blocked, that our suspicions were confirmed.

At first, the problem was minor and as all good students would, we simply ignored it. Okay, so it took a bit longer for the toilet to flush, but well, that was just part of being in student digs. However, over a period of weeks, the situation worsened to the point where action was required, so we called the landlord… who wasn’t interested, despite his legal obligations. Stuck on our own, we resorted to employing a plumber to unblock the drains… who failed spectacularly and then the local chap from ‘Dyno-Rod’, who even with his special, flexible drill-thingy, was unable to clear the blockage. Finally, in desperation and with photographic evidence of the scale of the problem, just in case we should get the brush off, we called the city council.

A question of drains - The problem. Blocked toilet. Rob Gregory Author

Spot the ball? Note, lovely well-cared for skirting board.

Wow! Talk about action. Just one mention of blocked drains and a possible public health issue, and the very next day, a whole team of sanitation workers arrived on the doorstep, complete with the biggest water tanker I have ever seen. As they marched into the house, one of them unfolded a map of the drains running under the house and began looking for the toilet. Initially, I think that they assumed that it was just a bunch of students getting up to no good, but after a few minutes of fruitless searching, one of the guys came up and asked where the toilet was. When he was finally shown the offending article, there was much scratching of heads amongst the council workers, as they compared the map with the reality before them. After a significant pause, the map holder turned to us and said: “Your drain and rodding eye have been concreted over. This thing shouldn’t be here,” referring to the bathroom and by extension, the extension itself (excuse the pun, sorry).

A questin of drains - Map of the drains. Rob Gregory Author

Unofficial map of the house and drainage system.

There then followed a brief but very serious sounding conference between the workers crammed into the tiny bathroom space, before one of them left and returned with a sledgehammer, which he used to smash the toilet off the soil pipe below. Having secured an access point for himself, a thick rubber hose was brought through the house and shoved unceremoniously down the drain. Other rubber mats were put down around it to prevent splash-back and the whole system was abruptly pressurised using water from the tanker. It took several goes, but I have to say, the council got the job done and in less than forty-five minutes they were packing away and for the first time in ages, we had unblocked drains again.

There was only one small problem and that was where we once had a toilet, there was now just a hole in the ground. While I have since found out that this is an entirely acceptable solution in some countries, in England in the early nineties it was not. Thankfully, one of the neighbours had called the landlord, obviously out of concern for the commotion that we were causing in the street outside and he came marching in, demanding to know what was going on. He honestly couldn’t have done it better if he were Basil Fawlty himself. After being informed about the situation and the need to buy a new toilet by the foreman of the group, he point-blank refused, at which point, the said foreman pinned him up against the living room wall and made it extremely clear, using words of one syllable, that if there wasn’t a new toilet put in the bathroom, free of charge to the tenants, by the end of the day, then the following day the entire extension would be pulled down by him and his workers. Needless to say, that settled the argument and we did indeed get a nice, shiny, new (albeit cut-price) toilet fitted in place before the sun went down that day.

A question of drains - Outdoor toilet anybody? Rob Gregory Author

Outdoor toilet anyone?

As for the old toilet, well, being students, we simply put it into the back garden, resting against one of the walls to make it look as if it was plumbed in. And you can imagine the hubbub it caused among the neighbours and visitors alike when we invited them to use our ‘outside loo’!

A question of drains - Outdoor toilet! Rob Gregory Author

The outdoor loo in close up.


Enjoyed this story? The why not check out ‘tales from Reading Uni, part one’.

How to be Topp – A new author speaks out

How to be Topp – A new author speaks out

How to be Topp – A new author speaks out

A good friend of mine recently suggested that as a new author I should probably write a few book themed blogs, in addition to the myriad of offbeat ramblings that have been my blogging bread and butter to date. Not a bad idea at all, on reflection. After all, it is one thing to be known and loved as a humourist, but not all that helpful if your ultimate aim is to gain recognition as a writer of high quality and entirely absorbing fiction, as is mine. So, without further ado, here it is, my first blog about books… well, one book in particular.

‘How to be Topp’ by Geoffrey Willans and Ronald Searle is one of my all-time favourite books. It has pride of place on the middle shelf of my bookcase and has travelled with me as a prized possession more than halfway around the world and back again. First published in 1954, it provides a wonderful glimpse into the past, specifically post-war, middle-class England, through the jaded eyes of prep-school inmate, Nigel Molesworth. I don’t recall who gave it to me or when, but ever since I turned the first page as a child, I have loved the visions that it conjures up of British education in a time long since past.

Although the book is now over sixty years old, having spent a grand total of three days at an English boarding school in the 1990’s (more about that in a future blog) I can say with hand on heart, that much of it still rings true, for me at least. From those at the top (or should that be topp?) of the tree, i.e. Grabber, the handsome and rugged, yet completely gormless football captain, to the wily survivors in the middle of the pack, such as Molesworth and Peason, and not forgetting the fops at the bottom, e.g. Fotherington-tomas, this book has it all.

What I particularly love is the way that ‘How to be Topp’ is presented as a prep-school survival guide. As such, its chapters aren’t linear, but cover a range of random topics and musings, including: ‘How to Succeed as a New Bug’, ‘How to be Topp in Latin’, ‘Criket’ and of course, ‘All there is to kno about Space’. And while some of the material is no longer of relevance to today’s modern curriculum, e.g. Latin, the book nonetheless retains a wonderful naivety, made all the more charming by the awful phonetic spelling of its protagonist and hero, the aforementioned N. Molesworth.

Gabbitas and Thring - A new author speaks out. Rob Gregory Author

Teacher recruitement 1950’s style!

For me, some of the ideas that Molesworth presents, via the timeless visualisations of cartoonist, Ronald Searle, are pure genius, such as Gabbitas and Thring (see above), two Victorian undertaker-like characters whose sole aim in life is to ensnare unsuspecting young men and take them away to become masters (teachers). Part of me suspects that this might still be the case in some British schools even now. Then there is the dialogue, which even in my middle years can still bring a smile to my lips. For example, in the section ‘How not to succeed’, the following exchange occurs between Grabber, the head boy and a new boarder (bug):

Grabber: You have a face like a flea and could not lift a cucumber.

New bug (with a yawn): You also have a face like a flea and could not lift what the French call a concombre.

Grabber: Do you know who you are talking to?

New bug: Can it be Stalin?

I think that it is fair to say that this book has, in many ways, influenced my own writing style over the years, more subconsciously than deliberately and I suspect from the image below that I might be in good company. You be the judge!

How to be Topp - A new author speaks out - Hogwarts. Rob Gregory Author

Great minds think alike? A mention of ‘Hogwarts’ in the 1963 edition of ‘How to be Topp’.

  1. I have recently found out that ‘How to be Topp’ was actually one of a series of books published between 1953 and 1958, and for renowned cartoonist, Ronald Searle, was apparently something of a reaction to his popular St Trinian’s series, about a boarding school for wayward girls. If you’re interested in following that one up, then my suggestion would be to start with the original film adaptations starring George Cole as Flash Harry and Alastair Sim as the headmistress.

Fancy an engaging and amusing romp through fantasy-land? If so, then check out my new book, ‘Drynwideon, The Sword of Destiny – Yeah, Right’. Available now from Amazon, Smashwords and all leading ebook retailers.

A peek down memory lane. Kodak Ektra photos

A peek down memory lane. Kodak Ektra photos

A peek down memory lane

… old photos of Reading University…

A couple of weeks ago, I posted a blog called ‘A walk in the dark’. The cover image for the blog was a scan of a photograph that I’d taken while I was studying at Reading University, back in the mid-1990’s, on my old Kodak Ektra slimline camera. No built-in flash, no manual focus and certainly no telephoto function, this was ‘point and press’ photography at its most basic. And yet ever since I stumbled upon that image, sitting in a forgotten envelope at the bottom of a box file in my study, I can’t help but feel that it is truly beautiful.

Lone student walking past the Palmer Building at Reading Uni c.1995. Kodak Ektra. Rob Gregory Author

A lone student walks past the Palmer Building at Reading University c.1995

Maybe I’m being nostalgic, but I love the graininess of the image, which makes it look more like a painting than a photograph. These days, we live in a ‘High-Def’ world and are bombarded by crystal clear images everywhere we look. Seeing this makes me realise not only how far we have come, but what we may have lost in the process. It is often said about movies that what you don’t see is better than what you do see and I think that the same is true here. We’re now so conditioned to look for the detail in images we see that sometimes we forget to look at the picture as a whole. Certainly, you can’t see individual blades of grass in any of these photos, the 110 films just didn’t have the resolution, but nonetheless, you certainly get the impression of grass, that is for sure.

Then, there’s the colour rendition. Maybe the images have matured and softened with age, but I absolutely adore the contrast between the moody, grey Reading sky and the orange AMS tower peeking up cheekily from behind the chocolate brown brick of the Palmer building in the foreground. Similarly, the lone student who happened to be walking along the path when I took the photo (and I have no idea who it is, before you ask), contrasts beautifully with the rest of the image, his blue T-shirt subconsciously drawing the eye off the mid-line of the photo, then up the vertical, concrete pillar of the Palmer building and ultimately into the cloudy, summer sky above.

Now, I know as well as you do that it’s only an old photo, a single moment in time, as indeed all photographs are. But I hope that you will agree with me, that for whatever reason, it is a beautiful image in its own right, which deserves to see the light of day again, after having been hidden away in darkness for so many years.

Below is a selection of other images of Reading University, circa 1995, taken using the same Kodak Ektra 110 camera. I hope that you enjoy them as much as I do.

AMS Tower at Reading Univeristy. Kodak Ektra. Rob Gregory Author

AMS Tower at Reading University c.1995


AMS Tower and Palmer Building at Reading University c.1995. Kodak Ektra. Rob Gregory Author

AMS Tower (left) and Palmer Building (right) at Reading University c.1995


Palmer Building at Reading University c.1995. Kodak Ektra. Rob Gregory Author

View of the Palmer Building, Reading University c.1995


Plant Sciences Building at Reading University c.1995. Kodak Ektra. Rob Gregory Author

Rear of the Plant Sciences building at Reading University c.1995


Reading University Botanical Gardens c.1995. Kodak Ektra. Rob Gregory Author

View of the botanical garden at Reading University c.1995


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