Menoffagainorrhoea; Off and Away

Sunday July 1st was as bright and warm as many of the days preceding it. This was some summer. Aitch and I had a quiet morning enjoying it outside early with the 'teenager' sparrows and the already re-courting doves and pigeons. I had packed the night before, so no tension. Other than the fact that case would not have taken even a wafer more (I travel cabin-bag size remember!). I had that, the camp chair from the boot sale and a smaller zipped bag of overflow items. We headed for Stowmarket in time to sit for lunch first. Aitch had chicken three-ways and I had veggie lasagne with some naughty chips. Very delicious it was too and of a size that meant I didn't need to worry about eating for the rest of the day.

Farewells through windows and that were it. The first stretch of the Northwards journey was actually Westwards, as had to get to Peterborough to change trains. The Anglian part was very enjoyable. The hat and I viewed the passing landscape feeling well-pleased with our visit.

Our timing proved to be good, for there had been major delays on the London-North line, so at P'boro' there were crowds of less than happy travellers. I arrived just as things were moving again so my own train was only ten minutes behind schedule. There were varying accounts as to why things had gone awry - but of the three or four versions I heard, the common denominator was the excessive heat. Britain just ain't built for it!

I didn't get the seat I had booked on that part of the trip. Overflow and frayed moods contributed to me, instead, taking an empty seat by a window and hoping that when we got to the place where these folk would get on, that there would be understanding.  Well, as fortune would have it, there was. Two blokes in 'not-lycra' came and looked a little flummoxed till I explained my tale. One of them (let's call him CyclA) quickly said he would squeeze past the man-mountain who was blocking my original booking, leaving his pal (let's call him CyclE) to take the seat opposite me. I softened the impact by showing an interest in their obvious cycling intention. They were planning a ride from Newcastle up to Edinburgh via the coastal road.

Ely Cathedral when not timed properly from the train

Ely Cathedral with better timing

Our conversation flowed smoothly enough thereafter along all sorts of meandering subjects based upon farming, cycling, Edinburgh, Norwich (where they were from)... The train hurtled ever-Northwards at rather an alarming rate.

Durham Cathedral with a bandaged head

I have to confess, this was not the journey of my dreams. Even though it was a first-class carriage, it was so packed, so rattle-and-roll, and actually not at all peaceful, that the glamour of rail travel paled considerably. It felt like the very train itself was disgruntled and totally over having to go up and down the land. Ever time a train came the opposite way, it felt like the windows would blow in, such was the 'THWACK!!!' of air pressure. In the end, the only thing which really made it tolerable was the company of CyclE, so I guess he of the 'not-lycra' was something of a silver lining on this hot and harried day.

Once I'd spotted The Angel of the North, I started to breathe a little easier. Only two hours to go.

Then the bridges of the Tyne signalled our arrival at Newcastle.

A great many years ago, I visited this Northern city, but would certainly like to get to know it again, for much will have changed. Like many cities, it has had 'revival' in places, and it is known for good food. It won't be long till I get the chance, I suppose... when Aitch retires, the plan is for her to shift up here, as it is where her neices live and work.

Top of the list of places to see will be the castle for which the city is named. It is right beside the rail station!

Entering the station

Leaving the station

As we drew away to the North side of the Castle, I was on familiar territory. The trip from here to Edinburgh on the rails is little more than an hour.

I admired the views of the North Sea and the occasional shots fired off were mostly worthless but I had fun anyway. Alnmouth looked pretty in the setting sun (it was now 8 pm) Then Berwick-upon-Tweed rolled by, with its lovely bridges, and there we were in the Bonny Land.

Then came the announcement that - due to heat 😐 - the lifts at Waverley station were out of order. There would be packhorses willing helpers in dayglo jackets ready to lift luggage up for those in need. Aha. At least the queue for the taxi was short enough and the wait only minutes. I was hugging the father by 8:45 and ready for a long hot shower.

I was to spend a few days with the father in Edinburgh to 'download', so in total, I was absent from the Hutch just shy of four weeks. It felt like 87! So much had been done, ground covered and sights seen. There are 800 images to prove it.

It was a truly wonderful time. Sadly, the physical challenge did mean not doing one of the trips I had most anticipated. However, it would have been foolhardy to have pushed myself on that one. It doesn't prevent me wanting to share something of it with you though, as hinted back here. Be back next week...😄