Flying the flag for Northumberland

It's the night before the big return to school, for Charlotte at least.  Jamie goes back for a bit on Wednesday in advance of his first full day on Thursday.  

Charlotte is still mildly hesitant about the prospect, but will hopefully settle in well.  Meanwhile, her big brother got up early this morning for a "practice walk" before returning to try on his uniform for the first time in more than five months. 

Leeds schools are amongst the last in the country to go back, which has only served to increase anticipation levels.

But, with time to spare last week whilst other kids crept back into their classrooms, we headed to Northumberland.  Thankfully our tent stayed locked in the shed with a nice caravan our living receptacle of choice.

I do love Northumberland.  My three years as a student in Newcastle in the early 1990s left me with a huge love and admiration for the people of the North-East.   I was also fortunate to be chosen to represent Northumberland in the 1990 rugby union county championship, pulling on the famous green, red and yellow jersey five times.  That gave me the chance to meet fellow teammates from other parts of the county and to visit different places for training and games. 

The Yorkshire Dales are fab, as is the Lake District which we visited last month.  But most tourists are well aware of them. 

In contrast, I regard Northumberland as a well-kept secret. It obviously varies from place to place but, in general, Northumberland is not as crowded as some destinations a little further south and therefore feels a little more relaxed.  

The natives also have a wonderfully laid back but self-assured attitude to life and, of course, there is no shortage of wondrous sights.

We stayed in Cresswell with its golden sands...

...breaking waves...

...and spectacular sunsets.

We visited Warkworth Castle...

...and Newbiggin-by-the-Sea.

We conquered the stepping stones at Druridge Country Park...

...went to Alnmouth to celebrate National Fish and Chip Day...

...and popped into Ashington because I've never met anyone from that famous town who doesn't have an interesting story to tell.

Us being the Whites, we obviously didn't completely miss the rain which fell hardest in Amble. 

We hoped to go on a Puffin Cruise...

...but Dave was forced to disappoint.

To stay dry, the kids bought some snazzy clothes from Amble's array of charity shops.

Jamie looked the part.

And Charlotte did too.  It was only later that Vanessa mentioned her "crop top and hairband set" was actually a toddler's dress and belt. 

And with that, summer 2020 was officially done.

Good luck to all kids, mums, dads and teachers for the big return tomorrow. 

Home alone

Three quarters of the White family are currently in Lytham on an overnight seaside trip.   Latest reports suggest that it's not raining there.  

Here in Guiseley - where this quarter of the family unit remains - the rain is about to restart and my plan to paint the garden shed is in tatters.  Excellent!

This "unfortunate" turn of events has forced me to watch the cricket, snooker, Moto GP and Formula One thus far.  

Later I shall feel compelled to tune into the rugby league, rugby union, baseball and football (plus more snooker if the player who's not called Ronnie O'Sullivan makes a fight of it).

Since my last ramble on here, we hired a motorboat on Lake Windermere and didn't capsize.

We embarked on our first "Rishi Dishy," taking advantage of the Government's uncharacteristically generous "eat out to get fat, then go for a bike ride" scheme.

We went for afternoon tea to fulfil a commitment Vanessa made to Charlotte at the start of lockdown.  (Plus she had a voucher).

I had two huge boxes of beer delivered.

Followed by another one.

And most excitingly of all, Charlotte had another promise kept when Vanessa finally allowed her to get her ears pierced. 

The rest of the clan are due back in Guiseley tomorrow afternoon, by which point I hope to have most of a day's work competed.

And then on Wednesday, we're due to back out on the road as a reunited four-piece band to cower in a tent in the middle of a field until Friday,  Heavy rain and thunderstorms are inevitably forecast.  With added lightning.  Can't wait.  

Spacers

There they go, the intrepid high wire artists about to spend the following three hours fumbling around on the edge of space -  or high ropes assault course to you and me.  They'll eventually return to Planet Earth via a zip wire.

And me?  Not a chance.  I'm watching the FA Cup Final.  Yes, my team Arsenal are playing.  But that's not the real reason.  Heights are not for me.  And neither is publicly soiling myself in front of a wife and two children who already don't respect me.

Earlier today we went on yet another walk, this time to Orrest Head where the views of Lake Windermere were spectacular. 

Charlotte was a little bit bored by this stage and chose to use binoculars to watch Vanessa and Jamie marvel at the scene rather than get too close herself.

At least she was able to see more than if she'd been sitting on this bench placed behind a big tree.

The weather has been OK today, which is always more than acceptable to us.

But yesterday it was, well, 30-odd degrees with full sun.  We could barely believe it.

We visited William Wordsworth's house.

The kids went for a paddle.

And later they had for their first swim in a proper pool since the start of lockdown. 

Luckily Vanessa and I found an ideal place to watch them in action (on the other side of the glass).

The weather was so exciting that Jamie and I put on our party shirts to celebrate, whilst Charlotte had a chocolate sundae.

I'd better be off now as I've got football to watch and beer to drink.   I really hope the rest of the family don't have nightmares tonight because I'm bound to be tired.      

The sun won't come out tomorrow

Something really strange happened today and it's thrown all of us into a state of confusion.

The sun came out.

This is not a holiday experience we can recall and we're not really sure what to do next.  

As luck would have it, we did pack shorts but only because we've heard of other families having gone on holiday and the sun's come out.  We're grateful to them for encouraging us to pack for all weathers.   

It rained pretty much all day yesterday, as it did on Monday.  It is due to rain again tomorrow too.

However, today has been, well, nice.

Yesterday Jamie took us on a big walk.  

(He also bought a new snazzy hat.

And Charlotte bought an equally swish Dick Turpin mask).

Jamie took us on another walk today.  But walks are very much his thing rather than hers and younger sister protests have resulted. 

For example, she refused to look over this big stone wall to admire the view.

She also refused to climb this hill, unlike Vanessa and Jamie (who you can just about see).

Here's a kind of close-up.

We're planning to get our bikes out tomorrow, which Charlotte (who I fear may actually be allergic to forward motion) is also dreading.

But, for now, it's chillax time.  And we're all good with that.

Putting the wind into Windermere

The Whites are back on tour, this time in the Lake District where it rained all day yesterday apart from a brief intermission to allow this picture to be taken.

(We were supposed to be in Greece but that was cancelled after the island we were going to ran out of Corona. Or something like that).

Our trip here started off with a bang.

I attached the bike carrier thingy on to the car the wrong way. The result was that it bounced off the road a couple of miles after departure, forcing us to return home to stick one set of brake lights and the registration plate back on with white gaffer tape. Here you can see Vanessa reassuring the kids that our luck was sure to improve.

Sadly mine didn’t. I watched the first half of Coleraine’s Irish Cup Semi-Final on my phone on the journey across. The Bannsiders were leading 1-0 until the 97th minute. They eventually lost to bitter local rivals Ballymena Utd on penalties. Gutted.

Whilst I sobbed uncontrollably, Jamie took himself off for an introductory tour of the holiday park where we’re staying for the next week. His main aim was to make a guest appearance on the CCTV feed which is piped into everyone’s lodge. He succeeded - see below.

We ended the evening by introducing the kids to the joys of Gavin & Stacey. Other than the incident with the bog brush and one filthy comment from Doris, the first episode wasn’t too racy and we might let them see a few more.

As for today, we’re planning a walk into Windermere where showers and high winds are expected.

Further updates to follow.

Ghost train

Before today, I hadn't travelled into Leeds city centre for more than four months.  The purpose of this morning's journey was a trip to the dentist after a crown became loose a few weeks ago.  I was surprised when  she agreed to see me. 

I donned a mask for the first time and boarded a train with barely anyone on it.   That was eerie, as was Leeds station itself was which also deserted.  With the odd exception of several members of train staff, everyone else had their faces covered as I trudged through.

When I reached the dentist's door, I had to wait outside for a few minutes until a lady with face shield, apron and gloves greeted me cheerily and asked me to cleanse my hands with sanitiser before coming inside.  

Next, she asked if she could take my temperature.

I said yes and opened my mouth nice and wide.

She laughed and pointed a gun at my head and pulled the trigger.

Five seconds later: "You're fine."

I wasn't, I felt like a right idiot.  I'd not had my temperature taken that way before.  I reckon I would have blushed less if she'd shoved a thermometer up my bum.  

And then I was invited to go upstairs to be welcomed by my dentist and her nurse, both in full PPE.

They did a great job, despite not being able to use a drill or that squirty water thingy.  My dentist explained that they can use those tools in afternoon appointments when they have to wear even more protective gear.   A bit like those scientists in ET.  Possibly. Those appointments are scheduled for an hour to allow time for a deep clean afterwards.  Mine was in the diary for 30 minutes, despite only being in the chair for five of those. 

My dentist added that my six-month check-up, which was due this month, will now take place at some point next year - in theory. 

And then I left, walked back through the quiet streets of Leeds, into the station, mask on and back onto another empty train to Guiseley.

I am actually due back in the city centre in a couple of weeks for a meeting, possibly followed by some socialising.  I'm not really sure how I feel about that. 

It's not a fear of contracting coronavirus that puts me off, it's the "new normal" factor; even more irritating than the X Factor and set to last a heck of a lot longer than a run of Simon Cowell and co.      

Flip and dale

With wind and rain forecast and campsites reopened, the time was right for us Whites to get soaked and cold inside and outside a tent.  

We chose the little village of Muker in the heart of the dales.

That was on Friday but, for the next two days, the weather actually picked up and the beauty of North Yorkshire was revealed.  

We met some of the locals.

And even had our first lockdown pint. 

Thankfully it was. 

Back at the campsite, Jamie saw an opportunity to earn a Scout badge for being helpful. 

He grabbed it with both marigolds.

We're due to spend next week in the Lake District where steady rain is predicted by the weather folk.

This has not come as a surprise. 

Half-cut

Jamie and I had our long-awaited post-lockdown haircuts today and, in my case, it did not go as planned.   

The barber cut the sides but, for some reason, seemed to forget to cut the top - and I forgot to notice.

The result was that I came home looking not unlike Michael Portillo.

Worse still, Charlotte took one glance and announced that I resemble a hammerhead shark.

A bit harsh, surely.

This was us yesterday when we put gel in our hair and combed it back for a laugh. 

But I'm not sure I look that different (other than the hangover face I was wearing after a well-hydrated weekend).

In need of some form of comfort,  I'm reminded of that well-worn quip: 

Q. "What's the difference between a good haircut and a bad haircut?"

A, "About a fortnight."

So I'll go back soon.      

I hope you have better luck when it's your turn to face a scissoring.