There were four songs that accompanied me during this trip: The first one was the most influential in igniting that idea to walk up North London to watch the sunrise, which I mentioned, as the initial step in what eventually ended up as this trip. It is Glósóli by Sigur Rós, and in fact the last (and the second time) I had watched them live was Alexandra Palace, the very place where I wanted to head up to watch the sunrise. Sigur Rós have been a long-running favourite band of mine, and it is little surprise they can have such dramatic effect on my psyche at times of self-conscious emotional flexibility/vulnerability. It was another favourite band's, Calexico's Roka and its warmer, Mexicana tunes that gave me the feeling that, I should rather keep going but not follow a long, cold walk but one that will take me to further places, not necessarily warm and deserty in this case, but one, during which I can transcend into a mental journey, too, which was easy to achieve while snoring my way into patched dreams while their music tingled my ears in the background. They were joined by a recent discovery, Mumford & Sons, whose The Cave and Thistle & Weeds completed the quattro. It was in this order that I repeatedly listened to them, most of which, in my sleep. Now, by providing the links, I don't expect the reader to transcend into what I may have been feeling on a cold, damp Newcastle morning where even the seagulls seemed to have abandoned, despite the fact that it was already nearing 10 AM. Neither should I expect you to mix yourselves some German wheat beer, port wine, Aztec (tequila, spices, cacao and something else) and some prohibition-era cocktails although I can assure you they make up for a good mix, if consumed over sufficient number of hours. What I can certainly assure you is not to start your next-day hangover with black coffee and that is what I precisely did whilst trying to blend into my Tyneside weekend excursion.
If there is one feature that an outsider like me would assume dominate the Newcastle area is water, and there seems to be plenty of it. River Tyne is wider than many other rivers I have encountered in the United Kingdom around which major urban agglomerations have been founded. Newcastle sits about 10-km (6 miles) inland from Tynemouth, where the River Tyne flows into the North Sea. As far as I can understand, and to my disappointment, it does not directly connect with the other major rivers or canals within England and thus is not necessarily part of the famous extensive network of waterways but the importance of the river in the history of the city is, unsurprisingly, significant. Quayside, as I mentioned in my previous entry, has bent the commercial hub of Tyneside. By Tyneside, we should understand the combination of Newcastle-upon-Tyne and Gateshead cities that sit across from one another, on the northern and southern banks of the river, respectively. History says the name "Newcastle" is owed to the construction of a castle by Robert Curthose, eldest son of William the Conqueror built a castle here on return from a raid into Scotland. Clearly, if this was a new castle, built in the Norman times, there was a settlement here from long before. And those who may know about Hadrian's Wall may also understand the significance of this part of Britain, where the Romans who had once conquered here their northernmostly part of their empire wanted to build a defensive wall against the Caledonians, the Celtic Highlanders referred to by the Romans as such. Many people still mistake Hadrian's Wall as the marking point of the borders between today's England and Scotland but that is not true. There is still more to England further north of Hadrian's Wall, but I shall not go into that now. In fact, I will not even talk any further about Hadrian's Wall, because that was an itinerary that I always wanted to do and by the time I realised it was not going to be achievable on this very trip, I decided to bury that somewhere deep in my mind and focus on what I had available in front of me: number of bridges spanning the Tyne.
Many of the seven bridges were built between the mid-19th century to the early 20th century, in the aftermath and on the heritage of the city's rise through the Industrial Revolution. Coal mining remained as one of the leading industries of the city for many years. The city went to an inevitable decline in the early to mid-20the centuries, and especially following the Great Depression, specifically due to its high reliance on exports while manufacturing played a key role in the city's economy. I had little information about the specific history of Newcastle, but anyone with some knowledge about British history and geography can have a good idea of the fate the northern English cities have suffered after the end of the industrial revolution and through the inter-war period and in its immediate aftermath. As this trip gave me the chance to reflect on these, especially under an overcast sky and in the perceived lack of people around, I remember about the story of some coal miners who took art courses and made a major contribution to the history of British art in the inter-war period, which was made into a book and is now an imprssive play which Kara went to see recently. Now I want to see the play, too, but I also wonder whether his review of the play that he had originally shared with me a couple of months ago had sub-consciously affected me in my decision to head up to Newcastle.
By the time I started to get bored of one bridge after the other, trying to decide where I should cross the river (and why), I realised that a city that kept its medieval heritage rather well, started to appear to my left. It was the mixture of the water feature, the industrial heritage, and architectural heritage of even earlier times (or remakings of them) and the varied topography (with narrow streets through unexpected hills) of this city that I was getting introduced to suddenly made me feel very attached to it. It also helped me overcome the repeating question in my mind: "what the hell am I doing here, and what am I going to do for the whole day"? Now, I have always been a big fan of waterfront cities with hills. If you have nothing else to do, just spot a few ideal places whilst walking on the waterfront (which is often where you start your city tour) and find ways to get to that top of the hill you just marked. Make sure you follow a consistent direction but try to get lost in the unexpected diversions as much as possible. And finally, voila, you find yourself with the most spectacular view of the entire city and its river/sea/lake under your feet... that is only if the weather is not shit or you have super-human skills to see through the clouds. Yet on this day I was not going to complain about the weather; if anything, the cold fresh northerly breeze was helping me recover subtly and the weather was only going to get better for the most part of the day.
Many formerly predominantly industrial cities suffered crises through the 20th century. Many cities that relied on manufacturing lost out to cheaper competitors elsewhere in the country and then further in the international market through the latter stages of the 20th century, too. Many waterfront settlements fell into decay and lost their authenticity, too. I had little idea as to what kind of transformations Newcastle went through but a city that had become the centre of printing, coal mining, glass making, locomotive manufacturing, ship building over time should be able to rub off its decay even if it was something along the lines of "...as the 20th century progressed, trade on the Newcastle and Gateshead quaysides gradually declined, until by the eighties both sides of the river were looking rather derelict. Shipping company offices had closed along with offices of firms related to shipping. There were also derelict warehouses lining the riverbank". And it looks like what may have saved Newcastle was not only its football club that marketed the city internationally but also the proactive and immediate response to the city's parents to draw up masterplans to re-develop the Quayside. And as biased as I may be, I think it worked well. A similar story is read through the waterfront re-development of Gateshead, where the city re-created its image through architecture. As much as it may seem superficial, and out-of-place in any other city I have been to, something made me feel that Gateshead's attempts were rather honest, humble and fit well with what was happening on the other side.
It is the The Sage Gateshead I found myself visiting, following my simple rule of trying to head up to the top of the hill to get a better view. Had it not been for the impressive graffiti I have encountered on the small alleyway leading to the entrance of The Sage and had it not been for the early Saturday passers who with their warm northerly smiles and nods drew me towards their direction, I might have given The Sage a skip. But I had other urges, too. I needed to use the bathroom, and I desperately needed some coffee!... and boy was that last one a wrong decision that I would regret...
It was before midday Saturday but The Sage was filling up with a curious crowd of young and old people. Before too long, I had ordered my black coffee and taken one of the free tables, across from what looked like a pretty comprehensive music stage. And there came the presenter up and said "welcome to you all for this BBC Music Nation Concourse Performances" and suddenly 5 young girls (aged around 16-17?) turned up on the stage and started playing their music. It all felt brilliant, these young people playing melodic tunes, high-treble, low-bass sound with an extremely loud keyboard into my dark as hell coffee and the sun started showing its face through the clouds behind the large, funky windows of the building. But, by the time the band started their second song after the rather funny introduction "if you have heard us before, you may know this one" (and so much for their confidence, well done girls), I felt like I needed to move on. I had already taken too long a part in this beautiful local setting and the rest of the crowd consisting of decent families could possibly smell my alcohol-soaked clothes from miles away and their baby kids (and I often have nice eye contact with little kids) were frighteningly drawn into my hazel-blooded eyes. I just needed more fresh air.
Across the funky Millenium Bridge and I was back in the old town of Newcastle. By now I had read that a landmark monument I wanted to see for a long time was nearby and I could take a bus from central Newcastle, which I had not yet been to (up the hill again and behind the train station). I started to climb through the narrow streets, passed the Grey Street (named after Prime Minister Early Grey, but at that moment, as far as I was concerned, it could represent the general weather or what I felt like was the colour of my stomach), passed Amen Street and had a very brief look at the surviving walls of the actual castle and rushed myself behind the walls of a nearby cathedral. And there I had my first of the day!
A painful vomit... and an innocent-looking elderly gentleman whom I have apologised to for ruining his streets and from who I got a rather cold and confused "pardon". Boy, do I love the northern accent even if all I hear is "pardon".
Before too long I got myself to Eldon Square, where I would catch my bus. I walked through the main street, the shopping mall and could already start seeing the youth of this typical English town pouring in. I knew I was going to get back here and get myself exposed to all that hype but now I had one destination to go to...
...and thus I jumped on the municipal bus number 21 for my trip to go see Angel of the North (one more episode to go...)
If there is one feature that an outsider like me would assume dominate the Newcastle area is water, and there seems to be plenty of it. River Tyne is wider than many other rivers I have encountered in the United Kingdom around which major urban agglomerations have been founded. Newcastle sits about 10-km (6 miles) inland from Tynemouth, where the River Tyne flows into the North Sea. As far as I can understand, and to my disappointment, it does not directly connect with the other major rivers or canals within England and thus is not necessarily part of the famous extensive network of waterways but the importance of the river in the history of the city is, unsurprisingly, significant. Quayside, as I mentioned in my previous entry, has bent the commercial hub of Tyneside. By Tyneside, we should understand the combination of Newcastle-upon-Tyne and Gateshead cities that sit across from one another, on the northern and southern banks of the river, respectively. History says the name "Newcastle" is owed to the construction of a castle by Robert Curthose, eldest son of William the Conqueror built a castle here on return from a raid into Scotland. Clearly, if this was a new castle, built in the Norman times, there was a settlement here from long before. And those who may know about Hadrian's Wall may also understand the significance of this part of Britain, where the Romans who had once conquered here their northernmostly part of their empire wanted to build a defensive wall against the Caledonians, the Celtic Highlanders referred to by the Romans as such. Many people still mistake Hadrian's Wall as the marking point of the borders between today's England and Scotland but that is not true. There is still more to England further north of Hadrian's Wall, but I shall not go into that now. In fact, I will not even talk any further about Hadrian's Wall, because that was an itinerary that I always wanted to do and by the time I realised it was not going to be achievable on this very trip, I decided to bury that somewhere deep in my mind and focus on what I had available in front of me: number of bridges spanning the Tyne.
Many of the seven bridges were built between the mid-19th century to the early 20th century, in the aftermath and on the heritage of the city's rise through the Industrial Revolution. Coal mining remained as one of the leading industries of the city for many years. The city went to an inevitable decline in the early to mid-20the centuries, and especially following the Great Depression, specifically due to its high reliance on exports while manufacturing played a key role in the city's economy. I had little information about the specific history of Newcastle, but anyone with some knowledge about British history and geography can have a good idea of the fate the northern English cities have suffered after the end of the industrial revolution and through the inter-war period and in its immediate aftermath. As this trip gave me the chance to reflect on these, especially under an overcast sky and in the perceived lack of people around, I remember about the story of some coal miners who took art courses and made a major contribution to the history of British art in the inter-war period, which was made into a book and is now an imprssive play which Kara went to see recently. Now I want to see the play, too, but I also wonder whether his review of the play that he had originally shared with me a couple of months ago had sub-consciously affected me in my decision to head up to Newcastle.
By the time I started to get bored of one bridge after the other, trying to decide where I should cross the river (and why), I realised that a city that kept its medieval heritage rather well, started to appear to my left. It was the mixture of the water feature, the industrial heritage, and architectural heritage of even earlier times (or remakings of them) and the varied topography (with narrow streets through unexpected hills) of this city that I was getting introduced to suddenly made me feel very attached to it. It also helped me overcome the repeating question in my mind: "what the hell am I doing here, and what am I going to do for the whole day"? Now, I have always been a big fan of waterfront cities with hills. If you have nothing else to do, just spot a few ideal places whilst walking on the waterfront (which is often where you start your city tour) and find ways to get to that top of the hill you just marked. Make sure you follow a consistent direction but try to get lost in the unexpected diversions as much as possible. And finally, voila, you find yourself with the most spectacular view of the entire city and its river/sea/lake under your feet... that is only if the weather is not shit or you have super-human skills to see through the clouds. Yet on this day I was not going to complain about the weather; if anything, the cold fresh northerly breeze was helping me recover subtly and the weather was only going to get better for the most part of the day.
Many formerly predominantly industrial cities suffered crises through the 20th century. Many cities that relied on manufacturing lost out to cheaper competitors elsewhere in the country and then further in the international market through the latter stages of the 20th century, too. Many waterfront settlements fell into decay and lost their authenticity, too. I had little idea as to what kind of transformations Newcastle went through but a city that had become the centre of printing, coal mining, glass making, locomotive manufacturing, ship building over time should be able to rub off its decay even if it was something along the lines of "...as the 20th century progressed, trade on the Newcastle and Gateshead quaysides gradually declined, until by the eighties both sides of the river were looking rather derelict. Shipping company offices had closed along with offices of firms related to shipping. There were also derelict warehouses lining the riverbank". And it looks like what may have saved Newcastle was not only its football club that marketed the city internationally but also the proactive and immediate response to the city's parents to draw up masterplans to re-develop the Quayside. And as biased as I may be, I think it worked well. A similar story is read through the waterfront re-development of Gateshead, where the city re-created its image through architecture. As much as it may seem superficial, and out-of-place in any other city I have been to, something made me feel that Gateshead's attempts were rather honest, humble and fit well with what was happening on the other side.
Gateshead decided to remove the one on the left from its skyline and replaced it with the one on the right and I think that was a good idea.
It is the The Sage Gateshead I found myself visiting, following my simple rule of trying to head up to the top of the hill to get a better view. Had it not been for the impressive graffiti I have encountered on the small alleyway leading to the entrance of The Sage and had it not been for the early Saturday passers who with their warm northerly smiles and nods drew me towards their direction, I might have given The Sage a skip. But I had other urges, too. I needed to use the bathroom, and I desperately needed some coffee!... and boy was that last one a wrong decision that I would regret...
It was before midday Saturday but The Sage was filling up with a curious crowd of young and old people. Before too long, I had ordered my black coffee and taken one of the free tables, across from what looked like a pretty comprehensive music stage. And there came the presenter up and said "welcome to you all for this BBC Music Nation Concourse Performances" and suddenly 5 young girls (aged around 16-17?) turned up on the stage and started playing their music. It all felt brilliant, these young people playing melodic tunes, high-treble, low-bass sound with an extremely loud keyboard into my dark as hell coffee and the sun started showing its face through the clouds behind the large, funky windows of the building. But, by the time the band started their second song after the rather funny introduction "if you have heard us before, you may know this one" (and so much for their confidence, well done girls), I felt like I needed to move on. I had already taken too long a part in this beautiful local setting and the rest of the crowd consisting of decent families could possibly smell my alcohol-soaked clothes from miles away and their baby kids (and I often have nice eye contact with little kids) were frighteningly drawn into my hazel-blooded eyes. I just needed more fresh air.
Across the funky Millenium Bridge and I was back in the old town of Newcastle. By now I had read that a landmark monument I wanted to see for a long time was nearby and I could take a bus from central Newcastle, which I had not yet been to (up the hill again and behind the train station). I started to climb through the narrow streets, passed the Grey Street (named after Prime Minister Early Grey, but at that moment, as far as I was concerned, it could represent the general weather or what I felt like was the colour of my stomach), passed Amen Street and had a very brief look at the surviving walls of the actual castle and rushed myself behind the walls of a nearby cathedral. And there I had my first of the day!
A painful vomit... and an innocent-looking elderly gentleman whom I have apologised to for ruining his streets and from who I got a rather cold and confused "pardon". Boy, do I love the northern accent even if all I hear is "pardon".
Before too long I got myself to Eldon Square, where I would catch my bus. I walked through the main street, the shopping mall and could already start seeing the youth of this typical English town pouring in. I knew I was going to get back here and get myself exposed to all that hype but now I had one destination to go to...
...and thus I jumped on the municipal bus number 21 for my trip to go see Angel of the North (one more episode to go...)
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