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!