Not so hard
Not a bad night's sleep in such a soul-less room. We packed our enormous suitcases, left them in the reception and headed off over the Tyne to the Baltic Centre.
We walked along the quayside as it didn't open 'til 10am. On a distant hill there were a couple of flat buildings which were made to look exactly like a pair of ocean liners heading out to sea. I was almost convinced they were ships and had to ask a local if they were - much to Adam's amusement. He was only pretending he could even see them as they were a long way away!
From there we could see Newcastle was a lovely city with wonderful old buildings, churches and such like. We will have a proper look round when we come back to walk Hadrian's Wall at Easter.
There was four exhibitions in the Baltic - two were 'nuttin boot a waste-a space' (not my words but an elderly Geordie woman's) and two were very interesting.
The first was based around the tales told by Finnish pensioners about the old days in the cold north. When you entered the room there was a model railway circling the room. The track rode over eight tables arranged in a circle joined by eight model iron bridges. On the tables salt had been piled up to look like snowdrifts with twigs about 50cm high to look like wintry trees.
The train rode round the track stopping every two metres or so.
The pensioners spoke of snowy times and hardships on train journeys in frozen lands. The stories were told in a corrugated iron 'shed' in the corner of the room, which was a little cinema with about 20 seats.
On the screen was projected images from tiny cameras hidden in the model train. It was so good. We had fun sticking our faces right up to the train so we appeared on the screen!
On the way out, people are invited to make clay model self-portraits. Mine was of me, and not too bad, or so I thought. Adam also made me but I think it looked more like a bastard son of Elvis and Frankenstein’s monster.
The second was a room full of notices
From the Baltic, we crossed the carpark to the Sage to look about the inside. It was very interesting. Norman Foster designed the outside after an 'acoustician' had designed the three music halls inside.
I noticed that in the cold light of day your Geordie ain't so hard when it comes to going out in beach wear in the depths of winter. Oh no, they were all wrapped up warm, wearing hats, gloves and scarves.
The drive to Edinburgh was scenic - the A1 hugged the coast for a while and we turned off to have a look at Lindesfarne/Holy Island. The tide was coming in so we couldn't get over to the island but we walked down the causeway to the water's edge and saw the water rising in front of our very eyes. It was bitterly cold.
We arrived in Edinburgh before dark and found the flat. It is all a bit IKEA with blonde laminate wood floors and a rubbish heating system - something you would have thought people living in grim-up-north land would make a bit of a priority. But it is very nice and will certainly do us for the week.
The town looked beautiful after dark - all the trees have lights in and there is a funfair in the Princes Street Gardens, with a Ferris wheel lit up like a Christmas tree. The castle on top of the old volcano plug sat bathed in orange light watching over the people below ice skating in a temporary rink and flying through the night sky on bungee cord/trampoline contraptions, baby roller coasters and assorted scary rides.
We found a fabulous place to eat; Mussel Inn. Fresh mussels, scallops and oysters are brought straight from the west coast of Scotland by the owner, who happens to be the fisherman, every day. Mmmmm. delicious.
Got confused on the way home as there are two pedestrian crossings which have dislocated voices booming out instructions on when to cross, presumably for the blind. But instead of saying 'cross' or 'don't cross' they mumble something along the lines of 'The traffic coming from the direction of Princes Street has been signalled to stop. You may proceed with caution across the road'. All very peculiar and off-putting. Blind people will be worrying so much about what this metallic person is saying they would probably not hear what the traffic is doing
Rang the earthquake disaster fund 0870 60 60 900.
Fifty-nine thousand people gone. And more missing. It is incomprehensible.
We walked along the quayside as it didn't open 'til 10am. On a distant hill there were a couple of flat buildings which were made to look exactly like a pair of ocean liners heading out to sea. I was almost convinced they were ships and had to ask a local if they were - much to Adam's amusement. He was only pretending he could even see them as they were a long way away!
From there we could see Newcastle was a lovely city with wonderful old buildings, churches and such like. We will have a proper look round when we come back to walk Hadrian's Wall at Easter.
There was four exhibitions in the Baltic - two were 'nuttin boot a waste-a space' (not my words but an elderly Geordie woman's) and two were very interesting.
The first was based around the tales told by Finnish pensioners about the old days in the cold north. When you entered the room there was a model railway circling the room. The track rode over eight tables arranged in a circle joined by eight model iron bridges. On the tables salt had been piled up to look like snowdrifts with twigs about 50cm high to look like wintry trees.
The train rode round the track stopping every two metres or so.
The pensioners spoke of snowy times and hardships on train journeys in frozen lands. The stories were told in a corrugated iron 'shed' in the corner of the room, which was a little cinema with about 20 seats.
On the screen was projected images from tiny cameras hidden in the model train. It was so good. We had fun sticking our faces right up to the train so we appeared on the screen!
On the way out, people are invited to make clay model self-portraits. Mine was of me, and not too bad, or so I thought. Adam also made me but I think it looked more like a bastard son of Elvis and Frankenstein’s monster.
The second was a room full of notices
From the Baltic, we crossed the carpark to the Sage to look about the inside. It was very interesting. Norman Foster designed the outside after an 'acoustician' had designed the three music halls inside.
I noticed that in the cold light of day your Geordie ain't so hard when it comes to going out in beach wear in the depths of winter. Oh no, they were all wrapped up warm, wearing hats, gloves and scarves.
The drive to Edinburgh was scenic - the A1 hugged the coast for a while and we turned off to have a look at Lindesfarne/Holy Island. The tide was coming in so we couldn't get over to the island but we walked down the causeway to the water's edge and saw the water rising in front of our very eyes. It was bitterly cold.
We arrived in Edinburgh before dark and found the flat. It is all a bit IKEA with blonde laminate wood floors and a rubbish heating system - something you would have thought people living in grim-up-north land would make a bit of a priority. But it is very nice and will certainly do us for the week.
The town looked beautiful after dark - all the trees have lights in and there is a funfair in the Princes Street Gardens, with a Ferris wheel lit up like a Christmas tree. The castle on top of the old volcano plug sat bathed in orange light watching over the people below ice skating in a temporary rink and flying through the night sky on bungee cord/trampoline contraptions, baby roller coasters and assorted scary rides.
We found a fabulous place to eat; Mussel Inn. Fresh mussels, scallops and oysters are brought straight from the west coast of Scotland by the owner, who happens to be the fisherman, every day. Mmmmm. delicious.
Got confused on the way home as there are two pedestrian crossings which have dislocated voices booming out instructions on when to cross, presumably for the blind. But instead of saying 'cross' or 'don't cross' they mumble something along the lines of 'The traffic coming from the direction of Princes Street has been signalled to stop. You may proceed with caution across the road'. All very peculiar and off-putting. Blind people will be worrying so much about what this metallic person is saying they would probably not hear what the traffic is doing
Rang the earthquake disaster fund 0870 60 60 900.
Fifty-nine thousand people gone. And more missing. It is incomprehensible.
posted by The WyeBird @ 8:39 pm
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