Kyashii is a new Japanese restaurant on Upper St Martin's Lane, London.
The above aerial shot was taken from the outside looking in, high up a 9m ladder. Most of us have climbed the odd step to reach a shelf or perhaps do some painting. I will tell you now - climbing a 9m builder's ladder at midnight in the middle of the West End is a completely different affair.
I think the following picture perfectly illustrates the scales involved. We ain't reaching for mother's cookies here.
But first, how does one actually go about extending such a tall ladder? This is not really something you consider until the moment arrives, and you suddenly find yourself stuck for ideas. There's obviously a knack yet I'm no workman. In the end it was a three person job - two to extend the ladder and another to help guide it into place.
Actually climbing the ladder was the next challenge. Not only did I have to scale a height far greater than any I had ever climbed before, I had to do this with my camera.
Strange primal instincts suddenly assert themselves: The rational mind knows that the ladder won't slip, neither will it fall backwards. But when you climb a ladder like that for the first time, all sorts of crazy thoughts take over: The ladder feels precarious, creaking and flexing with every slow, deliberate step upwards. You press your entire body into the metal. Are the locks fully fastened? Are the metal runners - which hug one stage of the ladder to the next - completely secure? You don't look down.
I had slung my camera around my neck and left arm. This was the easiest way to make the ascent without bashing nearly £3k of equipment. Once at the top though I then faced the challenge of pulling my camera into position. What would have been a trivial motion on the ground suddenly became an arduous maneuver 9m up. I had to somehow free my arm and shoulder from the camera strap. I felt like a contortionist performing in slow-motion, wowing an unseen circus audience silenced in awe below.
When my feet eventually returned to the solid assurance of pavement, I immediately loaded the pictures onto my laptop. They were magnificent. Suddenly one of the clients pointed towards the bottom-left corner of the frame: The restaurant's curious glass facade had somehow produced a freak reflection of the alfresco dining area outside. Scattered on the ghostly tables were the remains of our evening meal.
It was now nearly 1am in the morning. I walked back to the ladder and prepared for my second climb of the night...
