I wouldn't normally have come this way, but with a great friend and emboldened by alcohol we dropped down onto the tow path from the Queens pub on our way to the Wharf. But it was getting dark, and was full of shadows, and mist was beginning to gather on the water like emerging ghosts. Sounds seemed muffled until a slow train clattered over the bridge above. It was starting to look a bit creepy, even through beer goggles. It was the sort of place where a dark figure in a black cloak might emerge, face hidden under a wide brimmed hat, and clutching a large pointed dagger. What an atmosphere! If I had had less to drink I might have even made this into a decent shot.