Wednesday, 30 May 2012
To the town centre and back
Not a very exciting walk this week. No tramping the Hadrian's Wall Walk, no prized destination, just a walk into South Shields and back again. I was wearing a pair of shoes that I wouldn't normally have worn for walking and I have to say that having them stretched was a good move - they aren't painful anymore and in time will walk in to be a good comfortable pair. I did explore the charity shops and the wool shops (new craze), and I did get my glasses fixed, and do some shopping in Aldi. It may not rate too highly on the excitement stakes but it's what walking should be - part of everyday life.
Thursday, 24 May 2012
Platform 2, Central Station, Newcastle upon Tyne
I think I may have done this before, but finding myself again far too early for my train, I decided to walk the entire length of the platform. Why did they build them so long? Were trains once half a mile long? Maybe the brakes weren't too reliable?
I left the surging masses round the ticket gates and refreshment kiosks and strode out to the northern edge of the railway universe (I bet they were observing me on CCTV!). The lines branch either side of the ancient castle keep and looking around the cathedral church of St Nicholas is also be to seen, as is the High Level Bridge and of course the Tyne Bridge. Turning to look back down the platform I wondered how the scene would look without buildings associated with the railway - no station, no Station Hotel for a start off. That would have been a shame, as these buildings have real merit, not just functional sling it up and knock it down again a few years later - these were built to last. The grand sweep of the station, platforms and superb arched roof were fab. And a stones throw away was the Stephenson Building. Newcastle is not just a railway town, its THE railway town. All this history visible from platform 2.
I walked past the waiting travellers. None made eye contact, but how many wondered what the heck I was up to as I continued past them and on to the southern end of the platform. From here the metro bridges blue spines make it look like the Lambton Worm fancied a day out, traffic sails by on the Redheugh, the Arena waits in the undergrowth, the Tyne flows softly on.
And so back to the central section of the platform, which is the only bit that gets used as far as I can see. Not my longest walk, but you can't beat the atmosphere at a railway station, and all the longest journeys begin with a single step.
I left the surging masses round the ticket gates and refreshment kiosks and strode out to the northern edge of the railway universe (I bet they were observing me on CCTV!). The lines branch either side of the ancient castle keep and looking around the cathedral church of St Nicholas is also be to seen, as is the High Level Bridge and of course the Tyne Bridge. Turning to look back down the platform I wondered how the scene would look without buildings associated with the railway - no station, no Station Hotel for a start off. That would have been a shame, as these buildings have real merit, not just functional sling it up and knock it down again a few years later - these were built to last. The grand sweep of the station, platforms and superb arched roof were fab. And a stones throw away was the Stephenson Building. Newcastle is not just a railway town, its THE railway town. All this history visible from platform 2.
I walked past the waiting travellers. None made eye contact, but how many wondered what the heck I was up to as I continued past them and on to the southern end of the platform. From here the metro bridges blue spines make it look like the Lambton Worm fancied a day out, traffic sails by on the Redheugh, the Arena waits in the undergrowth, the Tyne flows softly on.
And so back to the central section of the platform, which is the only bit that gets used as far as I can see. Not my longest walk, but you can't beat the atmosphere at a railway station, and all the longest journeys begin with a single step.
Wednesday, 16 May 2012
On the train and down memory lane
Am I the only one old enough to remember when trains had corridors all down one side of the carriage, and bench seats in compartments with doors? You could walk right through the train, provided of course it wasn't a summer weekend train when the corridors would be full of standing room only passengers. You could even gawp at the posh people in first class.
Nowadays you have to walk down a central aisle following the refreshment trolley and the train manager checking tickets. Coward that I am I didn't venture into first class (coach A at the front of the train) or the quiet coach (coach F as the rear of the train) for fear of starting a riot. Hey ho, the windows don't have leather straps anymore either, and whatever happened to steam?
On this note of nostalgia my longest-serving friend and I walked around the hill after tea. She used to walk it with her great aunt, I walked it with my father. We recreated the experience together, admiring the view, pointing out changes to each other (new hotel, more clay workings) and remarking on the houses, what was new, who had lived where, where we had dreamt of living as children. Times change but memory and place is a bedrock to experience.
Nowadays you have to walk down a central aisle following the refreshment trolley and the train manager checking tickets. Coward that I am I didn't venture into first class (coach A at the front of the train) or the quiet coach (coach F as the rear of the train) for fear of starting a riot. Hey ho, the windows don't have leather straps anymore either, and whatever happened to steam?
On this note of nostalgia my longest-serving friend and I walked around the hill after tea. She used to walk it with her great aunt, I walked it with my father. We recreated the experience together, admiring the view, pointing out changes to each other (new hotel, more clay workings) and remarking on the houses, what was new, who had lived where, where we had dreamt of living as children. Times change but memory and place is a bedrock to experience.
Thursday, 10 May 2012
Newcastle guided walk: Spital Tongues
A couple of years ago I bought a season ticket for the guided walks and did loads of them, but this is one that I'd missed out on. I was interested to know the history of this area as a McDougall ancestor lived and worked here. We set off in drizzle and returned two hours later in pouring rain, but the whole walk was fascinating! We followed a tree-lined path (the course of the Pandon Burn) through modern university buildings and elegant terraces where the great and good of Newcastle lived in times gone by. Then on to the fringes of the town moor and the streets where the less well-off (like my family) lived and worked. We learnt about the old colliery, the Victoria Tunnel, the hospitals, saw the oldest inhabited building in Newcastle. More than that, the whole area has always seemed attractive to me, but the walk just enhanced that. What a lovely little area! Handy for everything, and it even has a windmill. Spital Tongues, rotten name, great place.
Tuesday, 8 May 2012
Round and about South Shields
After last week I was keen to get another section of Hadrian's Wall out of the way. But you know how it is when a plan doesn't quite seem to gel. I hadn't really got organised about whether I was driving or bussing to Heddon. I hadn't really investigated how I would get back from Chollerford. Was it going to pour with rain? Should I have bought a lightweight waterproof? Time's getting on - maybe I could do the Durham Coastal path instead - but what about buses back? A quick phone call to Sunderland tourist office told me it wasn't going to be simple. The more I thought about it, the more I felt that I was going against the spirit of a walk a week. I wanted it to be about enjoying a walk as part of a daily routine, wearing ordinary clothes, leaving time for other things - and here it was turning into a monster that was threatening to take over my life!
So, today's walk required no special clothes, no pre-planning, no outlay on bus fares or petrol. I simply put on my trainers, said goodbye to the cats and headed off on the McDougall/Garrick nostalgia walk. Passing by Chichester metro on the way to Laygate, I recalled the photos we have of the metro station being built, also buying weekly tickets at the office and waiting for buses at Stanhope Road. Laygate is good old family territory, I remember my aunt talking fondly of the shops in Frederick Street, my uncle talking about the mosque (opened by Muhammed Ali), there is the site of the factory my cousin (and half of South Shields) worked in, the industrial units bearing the names of streets that were known to my forebears. Then on to the site of Holy Trinity church, across the road and down past the Trimmers Arms to the riverside and desolation. I find it hard to picture this as a vibrant place, a river full of ships, streets full of men returning from work, the whole place would no doubt have been dirty, dangerous and noisy but there would have been some pride there. Where is our pride now? The docks are derelict, factories and works are closed and the sites locked, barred and bolted. How can we salvage any satisfaction in a job well done?
Further along the riverside the Customs House and the Mill Dam are restored and presentable but the whole heritage is gone. Now there are supermarkets and call centres - all built since I came to live here. The town is changing, nothing stands still. It's been far too long since I walked down King Street and paid any attention to the shops. I spotted at least one new one and several old faithfuls now gone. Along Ocean Road there were new names and new shop fronts too. I realised the cause of my restlessness - ten years ago at Wooler I heard that my mother had died. Do I really remember walking with her and my father on the Lawe Top when I was a young child, or do I just think I do?
The beach I happily discovered is still a 'thin' place were you can think spiritually and be in quiet watching the waves and the sand. And then it was home, via Westoe Village. Not a route march, maybe not much of an achievement physically but it was everything a walk used to be for me. I must do more of it. Oh, and I will do the Wall as well!
So, today's walk required no special clothes, no pre-planning, no outlay on bus fares or petrol. I simply put on my trainers, said goodbye to the cats and headed off on the McDougall/Garrick nostalgia walk. Passing by Chichester metro on the way to Laygate, I recalled the photos we have of the metro station being built, also buying weekly tickets at the office and waiting for buses at Stanhope Road. Laygate is good old family territory, I remember my aunt talking fondly of the shops in Frederick Street, my uncle talking about the mosque (opened by Muhammed Ali), there is the site of the factory my cousin (and half of South Shields) worked in, the industrial units bearing the names of streets that were known to my forebears. Then on to the site of Holy Trinity church, across the road and down past the Trimmers Arms to the riverside and desolation. I find it hard to picture this as a vibrant place, a river full of ships, streets full of men returning from work, the whole place would no doubt have been dirty, dangerous and noisy but there would have been some pride there. Where is our pride now? The docks are derelict, factories and works are closed and the sites locked, barred and bolted. How can we salvage any satisfaction in a job well done?
Further along the riverside the Customs House and the Mill Dam are restored and presentable but the whole heritage is gone. Now there are supermarkets and call centres - all built since I came to live here. The town is changing, nothing stands still. It's been far too long since I walked down King Street and paid any attention to the shops. I spotted at least one new one and several old faithfuls now gone. Along Ocean Road there were new names and new shop fronts too. I realised the cause of my restlessness - ten years ago at Wooler I heard that my mother had died. Do I really remember walking with her and my father on the Lawe Top when I was a young child, or do I just think I do?
The beach I happily discovered is still a 'thin' place were you can think spiritually and be in quiet watching the waves and the sand. And then it was home, via Westoe Village. Not a route march, maybe not much of an achievement physically but it was everything a walk used to be for me. I must do more of it. Oh, and I will do the Wall as well!
Tuesday, 1 May 2012
Hadrian's Wall Walk: Wallsend to Heddon-on-the-Wall
When I began to think about my weekly walks, at the back end of 2011, I found the Long Distance Walkers website http://www.ldwa.co.uk/ and my mind turned to perhaps a challenge (for me) walking a long distance path in sections. The Hadrian's Wall Walk was the obvious choice as it's nearby and when I found I could get a certificate for doing it, my fate was sealed. The summer passport for the walk runs from May to October so what better day than the first of May to begin.
I have to say though that I felt very self conscious arriving at Segedunum to begin the walk. 'Aren't you a bit old for this?' I imagined the reception staff saying. Or maybe the Hadrian's Wall Walk fashion police would leap from behind the desk shouting 'She's not wearing Berghaus! Stop that woman!'. Neither of these scenarios came to pass and at 10. 35am I was striding out between Swan Hunters and Segedunum heading for Newcastle.
The way is well signposted but I carried my trusty guidebook on loan from the local public library, and learning from my previous walking experiences, I carried some lunch, plenty to drink, and worn layers of clothing. I am not, though, a seasoned walker yet - no base layer for me, no map in a plastic cover, no labels worth a second glance. If I do walk the whole wall walk I will have to consider kit. I realised today that I would need to carry waterproofs, an extra jumper, who knows what else. Today, in the sunshine, I walked in shirt sleeves, remembering how uncomfortable I had been on the Durham walk when I got too hot.
The goegraphy of the walk is well laid out in books and signposts. For me it turned into a bit of a walk through time. Walking along the riverside path I remembered river trips in the Shields ferry, I remembered by first walks along the Quayside as a new resident of the North East. I enjoyed hearing the kittiwakes, being able to name the buildings and the bridges, having a bit of a back story in the area now. There are some lovely houses at St Peters Basin too (sigh).
The west end of the city is special to me and the walk along the site of the Armstrong works towards Scotswood Road is lovely. I'd seen cowslips earlier on, and saw more here (The North East's regional flower?). I tried but failed to imagine the Scotswood Road I had seen in old photographs, alive and bustling, now a slightly anonymous dual carriageway. The path continued along an old railway line taking me towards my next challenge.
At Denton Dene the path crossed the A1 via a footbridge to Bells Close. I had thought the bridge had solid side - it had railings. I'm not good with heights, not good at all. No one else was around to help me. I dithered for ages. I gave myself all the pep talks, I tried to walk the bridge but turned back. The next signpost was tantalisingly visable across the bridge if only I could get there. I considered going back to the riverside and continuing along there, I considered walking up to Denton Burn and crossing the road there. Too much precious time would be wasted. Suddenly I surprised myself by putting my head down and walking across! I didn't enjoy it, but I was quite euphoric about it and promised myself an icecream at Newburn Riverside.
I'd been good to myself with a lunchbreak and a sit down at the Quayside, by the time I got to Newburn I was ready for more rest. Sadly, the icecream van wasn't there, but I had more water and a piece of cake and wondered if I should stop now, or continue on to Heddon. I was conscious of the time I'd lost at the bridge. The sight of two elderly walkers (in regulation gear and striding out like youngsters) decided me to carry on. I was feeling slightly stiff and as I had passed the 10 mile post as it were, I was into new walking territory for me. I managed the last section uphill to Heddon without much trouble, though I had definitely slowed down, and was in time to catch the 4pm bus to the city centre.
Well, one section down, five more to go. How will I cope with the more challenging middle sections?
I have to say though that I felt very self conscious arriving at Segedunum to begin the walk. 'Aren't you a bit old for this?' I imagined the reception staff saying. Or maybe the Hadrian's Wall Walk fashion police would leap from behind the desk shouting 'She's not wearing Berghaus! Stop that woman!'. Neither of these scenarios came to pass and at 10. 35am I was striding out between Swan Hunters and Segedunum heading for Newcastle.
The way is well signposted but I carried my trusty guidebook on loan from the local public library, and learning from my previous walking experiences, I carried some lunch, plenty to drink, and worn layers of clothing. I am not, though, a seasoned walker yet - no base layer for me, no map in a plastic cover, no labels worth a second glance. If I do walk the whole wall walk I will have to consider kit. I realised today that I would need to carry waterproofs, an extra jumper, who knows what else. Today, in the sunshine, I walked in shirt sleeves, remembering how uncomfortable I had been on the Durham walk when I got too hot.
The goegraphy of the walk is well laid out in books and signposts. For me it turned into a bit of a walk through time. Walking along the riverside path I remembered river trips in the Shields ferry, I remembered by first walks along the Quayside as a new resident of the North East. I enjoyed hearing the kittiwakes, being able to name the buildings and the bridges, having a bit of a back story in the area now. There are some lovely houses at St Peters Basin too (sigh).
The west end of the city is special to me and the walk along the site of the Armstrong works towards Scotswood Road is lovely. I'd seen cowslips earlier on, and saw more here (The North East's regional flower?). I tried but failed to imagine the Scotswood Road I had seen in old photographs, alive and bustling, now a slightly anonymous dual carriageway. The path continued along an old railway line taking me towards my next challenge.
At Denton Dene the path crossed the A1 via a footbridge to Bells Close. I had thought the bridge had solid side - it had railings. I'm not good with heights, not good at all. No one else was around to help me. I dithered for ages. I gave myself all the pep talks, I tried to walk the bridge but turned back. The next signpost was tantalisingly visable across the bridge if only I could get there. I considered going back to the riverside and continuing along there, I considered walking up to Denton Burn and crossing the road there. Too much precious time would be wasted. Suddenly I surprised myself by putting my head down and walking across! I didn't enjoy it, but I was quite euphoric about it and promised myself an icecream at Newburn Riverside.
I'd been good to myself with a lunchbreak and a sit down at the Quayside, by the time I got to Newburn I was ready for more rest. Sadly, the icecream van wasn't there, but I had more water and a piece of cake and wondered if I should stop now, or continue on to Heddon. I was conscious of the time I'd lost at the bridge. The sight of two elderly walkers (in regulation gear and striding out like youngsters) decided me to carry on. I was feeling slightly stiff and as I had passed the 10 mile post as it were, I was into new walking territory for me. I managed the last section uphill to Heddon without much trouble, though I had definitely slowed down, and was in time to catch the 4pm bus to the city centre.
Well, one section down, five more to go. How will I cope with the more challenging middle sections?
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| Segedunum |
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| beside the Tyne |
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| The Three Tuns at Heddon |
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