Skip to main content

Newcastle: Bridges, Buses and Beaches

After Fountains Abbey we continued north to Newcastle - or more precisely Gateshead, Newcastle's sister city across the Tyne River.  Our hotel was on Gateshead Quays, an area which includes the BALTIC Centre for Contemporary Art and the Sage Gateshead concert venue.  It's obviously undergoing serious regeneration; the remaining derelict industrial buildings and weed-strewn vacant lots were overshadowed by modern metal and glass springing up all around.

On the Millennium Bridge with the BALTIC Centre behind.

Millennium Bridge with the Sage behind (that wavy building).
We had a view of the river from our fifth-floor room, and Toby was most excited about sleeping on a sofa bed: "They're going to make my bed by magic!"  Theo seemed content enough with his familiar Moses basket, which we placed in the bathroom - a travel tip I'd seen somewhere.  It gave us a little more space in the main room, but whether it improved the quality of anyone's sleep is difficult to say.

I think we hit the sweet spot with our boys' ages on this trip.  Toby coped amazingly well with a fair amount of walking, while Theo was happy to be carted around anywhere, as long as he got milk on a reasonably regular basis.  We got a DaySaver ticket which meant we could hop on and off the Metro and buses - at least we thought we could; the fourth and final bus driver of the day insisted it wasn't valid and made us pay.  Up until that point we had been most impressed by both the value and frequency of public transport, and it was great to be able to rest our legs now and again.

Toby likes buses!

A whistlestop tour in photos:  We visited Grainger Market and ate pasties by the Grey Monument, which appeared to have a permanent seagull in residence.






On our way to Leazes Park for the obligatory playground stop, we passed a diminutive Chinatown, part of the old city walls, and Newcastle United's football ground.


For you public nursing advocates (I'm looking at you, Eva!): Theo having his lunch by the old city walls.


Daisy chains in the park

We were able to take a bus part way to the Discovery Museum, where Toby got ecstatically drenched in the Play Tyne room, with a replica of the Tyne River and its bridges.


Out to the real thing, we rode a bus along the quayside, and walked across the sweeping curve of the Millennium Bridge.

That's the Tyne Bridge in the foreground, but you already saw the Millennium Bridge.

Dinner was at Zizzi's, located on the solid Georgian splendour of Grey Street, from where we caught our final bus practically to the hotel door.


Next day was the beach at Cullercoates, a short drive away.  It was cooler and a little drizzly - but what does that matter when you're a three-year-old boy with a bucket and spade?



Comments

Zoe Richardson said…
Sounds like a lovely family holiday with great pictures. I have three children and have always wanted to try and holiday in the North of England, but find it hard to see beyond family holidays in Devon.

Popular posts from this blog

Mr White Watson of Bakewell

Once upon a time, back in 1795 or so, lived a man who was always asking questions.  The kind of questions like, "Why is glass transparent?" or "Why do fruit trees grow better in that place than in this place?" or "What does the earth look like underneath the surface?"  This last question was one that he was particularly interested in, and he went so far as to work out what the rock layers looked like where he lived, and draw little pictures of them.  Now he was a marble sculptor by trade (as well as fossil hunter, mineral seller, and a few other things) so he thought it would be even better to make his little pictures in stone.  That way he could represent the layers using the actual rocks they were composed of.  Over the course of his lifetime he made almost 100 of these tablets, as he called them. Then he died.  And no one else was quite as interested in all those rocks and minerals as he was.  His collection was sold off, bit by bit, and the table...

The Imitation of Christ: Spiritual Formation Book 2

"This is my hope, my only consolation, to flee unto thee in every tribulation, to trust in thee, to call upon thee from my heart, and to wait patiently for thy consolation." The second of my  four books for spiritual formation  is The Imitation of Christ  by Thomas à Kempis.  The introduction to my copy starts off by saying that 21st century readers may wonder why they are bothering, which hardly seems like a recommendation!  I have to admit I finished it with a certain sense of relief, but there were some hidden gems along the way.  It's rather like reading the book of Proverbs.  There's no story or explanation of a theme, but there are astute observations, honest prayers, the occasional flash of humour, and quite a lot of repetition. Thomas à Kempis was a priest in an Augustinian monastery in the 1400s.  Presumably his life conditions favoured the silence and solitude that he advocates for in  The Imitation of Christ , but also gave him opp...

Trekking through the Bible

It was about Exodus 39 that I began to spot the similarities. I'd started  back in December , reading the gospel of Luke. Then I'd moved on to Isaiah - enjoying the much-loved poetic prophecies, and realising I'd forgotten how much of it was railing against Moab, Tyre, Tarshish and Edom - and after that I turned to page one, In the beginning...  and reckoned, with solemn determination, that I could make it all the way through the Pentateuch in one go. That's the first five books of the Bible. The Law. The Torah. Genesis was great. Of course, I couldn't read the narrative of Joseph without hearing the music from Technicolour Dreamcoat  in my head ( seven fat cows came up out of the Nile, uh-huh-huh) . It's an excellent story. And so into Exodus, and the equally flamboyant story of Moses. But halfway through the book of Exodus comes the Ten Commandments, and it all changes. The Israelites are in the wilderness and the reader is too, with nothing but rules, regulat...