Lost in Killingworth

I arose at my usual tardy time today. For a weekend that is. I rise at 7 most weekdays to rouse my children,drink some coffee, make lunches etc. At the weekends I lay in a bit. A bit too much to be honest. However when the house is cold and my bed is warm why get up? 

I was in turn roused out of bed by my son this morning, requiring transport to meet his friends in town. It was as well as I probably would still be in bed now so sound asleep was I.

Now what to do with what was left of my Saturday? Durham is a more scenic venue but Newcastle has a few more diversions. So to Newcastle I went.

There is quote in my Oxford Dictionary of Thematic Quotes that said something to the effect of the journey was as much a part of the whole travel deal as the destination itself.

"To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive and the true success is to labour" Robert Louis-Stevenson Virginibus Puerisque (1881)

I take this to heart sometimes and take the journey to Newcastle by bus. It is a circuitous route mostly and takes twice as long as any other method but there are few things in life as wondrous and cheap as a journey in a doubledecker bus.

I had left it too late for this mode. So I took stock and decided to go by car and train. I would drive my disreputable Renault through the Tyne Tunnel (yes I am that desperate for entertainment) and find a park and ride for the Tyne and Wear Metro to the city centre.

The British Army usually say any plan of action only lasts until first contact with the enemy. So it was with my journey. I panicked somewhat as I entered the tunnel for the first time as I wasn't entirely sure where my toll money was on my person and the moment I realised I may, in fact, not have it I was plunging head first under the river. I wrestled with my seat belt and trouser pocket pretty much the whole length of the tunnel and emerged into the weakening sun just about ready to dispense the appropriate coinage.

It never  fails to surprise me just how competitive people are away from obstacles such as traffic lights and in this case a toll booth. My barrier was up first and i pulled away only to find a white sporty model racing me to the exit. The line of toll booths had enough receivers to deal with 12 vehicles simultaneously but had only us two. The road ahead was dual carriage way and was only going to contain our two vehicles but that white car just HAD to reach it first. So I let him.

A few miles up the A19 I was forced to reminisce about my disastrous trip across the C2C cycle path, a few days me and my neighbour with whom I travelled have never really recovered from. We crossed the A19 at this junction and I always think of this when I get here. I also noticed a dirty great metallic structure looking suspiciously like a multi storey car park away to my right. It was then that I decided to find a different car park than I originally planned.

Caught between turning back for the car park I had just passed and pushing on for another that I knew to be closer to the city I ended up in no man's land. Or Killingworth to be precise. To be fair to the residents of this new town extension of Newcastle it was a cold day with thick snow lying all about, but it did seem deserted. Except  for cars. I had no idea how to get around this place. I found a shopping mall but there were few sign posts to tell me where the City centre was. So I just followed the sun to the south. The place really was deserted. No sign of life. It felt like that bit of 24 days later where the hero wonders the streets alone.

Completely by chance, or so it seemed I found myself rolling up to Four Lane Ends Metro station. Which had sort of been my target. I parked and went through to the adjacent station. One of my gripes about these places though is how much change I have to carry to pay for all the services. Up until recently the ticket machines only took coinage and some of the staff at the adjacent Newsagents seem reluctant to give change even though I had bought goods and the very prosperity of their premises revolved around selling stuff we didn't want just so we could pay for our tickets. At long last the ticket machines now not only accept notes but Debit cards too. I was soon standing on platform 2 awaiting the next train to South Shields via Newcastle.

It is strange what thoughts cross your mind as you wait for a train. It occurred to me that the glory of being young is having all these potential paths for you to cross. That you then spend the rest of your life not taking them and not being able to retrace your steps is one of life's cruelest twists. That is why I am jealous of younger people. I have now made a whole bunch of choices and I find my potential pathways narrowing down. I am not at all happy with most of them but there you are I have had my chances. I once watched a biography of  ex Pink Floyd member Syd Barrett. Just after he got booted out of the band a friend put him up for a bit. He complained that Syd just slept in bed but noted that everything was possible when you are in bed. It is only when you get out that your possibilities start to decline.

Anyway the train arrived and on I hopped. In his recent TV series here in the UK Stephen Fry claimed that gadgets make our life better. I mused on this as I caught the latest news and sport whilst listening to an audiobook and accidently calling my son's mobile phone

It has been claimed that Human society clusters together in great cities as a way of dealing with winter. I passed by the shop fronts of Northumberland Street and observed everyone huddling to themselves against the winter breeze, I would concur. It is a different matter in the summer though I feel less like wandering shopping precincts in summer and more liking getting out into the countryside.

I purchased a £1 coffee from a sandwich shop and continued my sojourn along the emptying streets of Newcastle as Night fell. The Newcastle Theatre Royal must have just finished it's matinee performance as people were piling into Grey Street. It is a pretty building in daylight but lit with bright floodlights from above just makes all the contours stand out. I headed on down to the quayside across the Millennium bridge, past the Baltic and on up to Gateshead Interchange. This was my exercise for the weekend.

It was quite an equitable way to spend a Saturday teatime involving 3 things I enjoy. Transport, technology and coffee.

As an effective use of my time I achieved nothing except a purchase of some roasted coffee beans from a Waitrose supermarket. But as I said before the fun is in the travelling not the arriving