July 17, Reeth, two walks and sightseeing

 Two walks today because neither was long enough to satisfy.  We shall refer to them as Walk One and Walk Two.  Both had a big climb, but Walk One had a bigger climb than Walk Two and a very steep, unpleasant descent involving much scree.  Walk Two, on the other hand, started out very pretty, but, about half way through, had a right-of-way blocked off, which caused difficult rerouting through places a person should not have to venture.  Not fun.

It felt so good to be out of Newcastle!

Is this green, or what!

Not so green, but tasty anyway:

Hay has been made:

A bit hard to see, but a picnic table and benches built around the trunk of a tall tree:

On a hot day, if you happen to be there in the middle of nowhere, it would make a lovely spot for a picnic.

Way up on the ridge, big piles of rocks/stones.  If I really cared, I would try to find out what the story is.  It looks like it belongs in Newcastle.

The low moors (which are not so low, but lower than the high moors) before they are in flower:

But is this thistle not the most vibrant color?

Walk Number One, the end.

Walk Number Two started out very sweetly:

Such a wee gate!

Such a lovely garden:

No wonder no one was in the playground:

The River Swale

as seen from a suspension bridge:

The Swale has flooded many times causing very much damage, but today, as you can see, it was super low:

Un rabaño de ovejas (a flock of sheep):

You just have to click on that shot to enlarge it.  It will make all the difference!

With their shepherd following:

After Walk Two, a decision had to be made:  The ice cream parlour or the tea shop.  Mocha ice cream won out and I was not sorry for the choice!  Delicious!  Thus fortified, I went to see the local museum—by the way, in Reeth, everything is less than a city block from everything else. 

In a nutshell, the museum informed that this area used to be an important source for mining lead until it wasn't.

The most interesting object in the museum—which I could not identify among all the tchatchkes— was a "skirt lifter" patented in Canada in the 1890's for raising the hem of a skirt to avoid its being splashed with mud.  I wonder how much money that guy made on the patent.

Here is a partial list of mystery objects:

Who would have thought that a tool for fixing rubbers on a milking machine (#2) or a burnisher for cleaning and polishing metal (#7), inter alia, would be thus memorialized.

Then there was the Graculus Museum, which is a shop/workroom, where a man with a beard that had two long braided segments makes bizarre stuff out of metal.

On the door to the shop is this sign: 

I thought it was a joke and referred to pieces such as this:

But, no.  Joe, the crow, who is/was actually a rescue bird, lives and screeches in the shop.

Aside from metal and debris all over the place, enough for Alderman dow to be interested, you can imagine the bird poop that was also all over the place.

Back to the hotel, which is quite a nice hotel with unusual decor!

July 16, Newcastle and Reeth plus an almost crisis.

My train to Darlington whence a taxi pick-up to Reeth, was not until 1:27, so there was a lot of time to fill. "For starters, why not walk to Wallsend and back," I thought....Wallsend is about 4 miles from Newcastle; it is where Hadrian's Wall begins or ends depending on your direction.

It took quite some time to figure out how to get down to the quay what with the stairs and the underpasses and all, but eventually I got there.  A short way along, there was a swing sort of thing for the tired:

where they could sit and watch this view:

If one walks instead of sits, one can see the river!

It is possible that this is art:

It is also possible that this is art:

After only about two miles, he route turned away from the quay onto this:

I looked at the map and saw that "this" went on for quite some time, so plan A for the morning was cut short, very short.  I headed back.

Slim pickings, birdies, slim pickings:

But if you are a hungry person, 

you can get a real bargain.

Or maybe signing up for a course in self-defense is more your thing:

I wandered around the city centre until the magic hour of 10:00 when museums and galleries and such open.  So, guess what?  Did you know that Bob Dylan was an artist as in with a paint brush?  This gallery must really value his work because they claim that "His art has been likened to that of Picasso."  And do you know what he paints from mostly?  From life!  Yes!

Now, you may swoon over that painting, and may even wish to purchase it, but I doubt that the first association you make is to Pablo.

This is Bambi.  He seems to be crying from every pore for is mama:

See the letters in gold on the teeth?  They are the artist's initials.  It did not say if this was a self portrait:

After a couple of galleries, I headed off to the Castle because there wasn't much else to do, and, well, you know, castles are supposed to be big deals, even though often they are not, and this is NEWcastle, after all.  

Posted in the castle are a couple of job descriptions from back in the day.  (Remember to click on photos to enlarge.)

...attending to the king while he sat on the toilet...now that is an honour if ever there was one.

A little castle nook:

After you climb 99 steps, you "are rewarded" with a view:

Apparently, from this viewing spot, you can see the seven bridges of Newcastle.  I did not count.

There were other views, too.  Maybe this one is marginally nicer: 

                                

This one is not:

The viewing area is guarded by a few archers:

After the castle, the cathedral:

You can see that these pipes are not decorated like the ones in the Carlisle Cathedral.  What the sound quality is...no idea.

The candles in this area—do not know what it is called—are a nice touch.

A quick stop at the Hatton Gallery at the U of Newcastle to view a bit more art....I actually would have liked to stay longer there, but did not want to risk rushing for the train.

This piece takes a bit of looking to figure it out:

This one, not so much:

The Newcastle Train station is big, crowded, and overwhelming.  Imagine JFK at peak time only way worse. When I arrived on whatever day that was, I had to ask three people how to exit the place!  Anyway, in the confusion of finding the correct seat in the correct car—this was a completely reserved  train—I will not go into the intricacies of how the car and seat work; it is weirder than you might imagine— I LOST MY BATTERY PACK.  I cannot manage without it; the phone has been eating up battery like you wouldn't believe and today I was listening to a book whilst walking to Wallsend and that really drains the battery. What to do!  I Googled where to buy a replacement; that proved to be useless, then thought about using Amazon to get one shipped (if that would even be possible considering where I am), THEN I consulted ChatGPT.  A lifesaver!  Chat informed me that in Darlington, where I was to disembark, there was a commercial establishment that sold such items, and even gave me advice on which brand to buy.   Mientras tanto (In the meantime) about three minutes before my stop, the conductor came by to collect the tickets.  I asked him if he had seen a battery pack.  He had not.  But .........30 seconds, just 30 seconds, before I got off the train, he appeared with it in hand! Was that lucky or what!  

The drive to Reeth was beautiful.  It is great to be out of Newcastle and back in Herriot Country!  

July 15 Newcastle

The Newcastle Walls Walk looked promising, so I headed off to give it a go, but about three blocks into it there was a NO-CAN-GO blockade in front of a horrible, rusted, tall zigzag stairway that led to an overpass.  It is not as if Newcastle has surplus beauty so that you could just wander about and be happy, no, this is a city that requires a plan.  It is also a city that has more you-can't-go-here-so-go-somewhere-else situations than you can imagine, so I thought, OK, I will simply do this walk in reverse, and that is what I did, which was fine, until I got to the end.  Of course I was faced with the NO-CAN-GO blockade from the other side.  Fortunately, at that hour, there were construction men (am I allowed to say that?)  about, and people are very nice when you ask for help.  I got turned around and straightened out, and was ready for the second walk of the day, but of that, later.

Now, you don't walk the city walls of Newcastle, as you do in York; you look at remnants.

Here is remnant number one:

Is that a wowzer, or what?  Really gets your blood up to see the more.  

BTW, Newcastle has a serious garbage problem.

The wall experience does get better. 

This remnant looks like the Kotel.....sort of!  Well, maybe just a little bit.

or maybe not at all.

Ahh, now we're going back in time:

To navigate the route, one has to cope with a lot of ugly overpasses with ugly access:

But there was one quite artistic one:

And some are underpasses.

After The City Walls Walk, I did a City Central Walk.  It was just like the Walls Walk but without the walls.  By this time I was utterly urban-blighted-out.  I had time to visit the Biscuit Factory, which, despite its name, is a art gallery.  It was first rate!

An enamel on metal fish:

This piece was titled:  Wake Up and Smell the Roses.  Do you see the roses?

Oh, what big ears you have!

Not every subject was four footed.  There was this lady with a great hair-do.  No, wait!  That is a hat!

But many were, like these wire animals:

Oops, there is a two-footed creature in the mix

Flowers (foxglove, mainly):

There was a wonderful selection of note cards.  As I was looking at them, I got into a bit of a conversation with a woman who told me that she plays the piano. She buys these cards and sets them on the piano to look at them because she cannot bear to give them away!

After the art gallery it was time for the thing I was most eager to do in Newcastle, the Victoria Tunnel Tour but although the guide was enthusiastic and regaled the group with many anecdotes, a lot of which had to do with going to a pub, and some of which were just silly. He obviously enjoys this volunteer gig, but the tour was, for me, an utter bore, and there is no escape because for two hours you are are prisoner in a cold, dark tunnel.  No doubt, the style of ha ha ha is appealing to a lot of people, but I found it irritating AND the tour actually exceeded two hours!  Note to self:  do not repeat

On my meander back to the hotel, I saw people queued up waiting for the bus.  This you would be hard pressed to see in the U.S.

Dinner tonight was not the usual lox concoction, it was a hot honey chicken sandwich from the sandwich shop down the block.  It wasn't bad!  Not bad at all!