Follow the Blue Arrow Road (Part One...)

So today was a miserably cloudy and rainy Saturday that had no prospects for anything fun or mysterious. Didn't even get out of bed until gone 2pm! Anyways, when the air of home got far too stifling to breathe properly, and boredom took over, we decided to go for a walk to Morrisons.

We took a roundabout route, waiting and seeing what sort of things would happen; we bumped into a friend and had a long chat, and we saw a little cut-off from the pavement going down into the Ouseburn valley. It was beautifully carpeted with yellow and red leaves, and a sodium streetlamp illuminating everything with an ethereal glow, how could we resist that? So down we went and came out at the bottom of the bridge that the other week's blip was about...the one with the interesting slogan. There we ran into a middle aged man and his beautiful Golden Labrador, and he gave us a bit of local history in the rain, then merrily went on his way. We continued on our ramble to the river itself, and followed it through the farm, whereupon we saw a mysterious blue arrow painted on the pavement, telling us to go right. Shrugging our shoulders and ready for a short evening adventure, we obeyed.

Down the banks of the Ouseburn we trotted quite happily, stopping to be tourist-y and take pictures, reading all the signs, and learning unknown things from graffitied information boards. It was beautiful to think of what life was like in the bustling city in the 1930s and before, when the Victoria Tunnel was built, the coal miners worked, and the river was a main trading route and leisure centre, now stuck at the bottom of the huge valley with only a few wanderers navigating its' lonely routes.

We followed our mysterious arrows onto the Quayside, round in circles looking at all the interesting and hidden sights around Newcastle that I have never witnessed before. Up and up we climbed, in meandering circles, past the 2 mile mark, and back to Shieldfield park. I began to dream of alternate endings for our route: a passionate young man painting arrows across the city for his love, taking her into all the hidden places they had visited together before finding him, bedecked in a suit, waiting with trembling hands to ask her the question that their lives hinged on. She, curious at first, then exasperated, and finally angry, would be astonished and crumble into his arms, full of love and happiness. *happy sigh*

Anyway, back to the original story, we followed the arrows through twists and turns of Sandyford, guessing its direction, and re-guessing when it turned out to go the opposite way, until we got to the corner of Dinsdale Terrace, and the lowering sky was so dark that we could barely see the stains of blue on the pavement beneath our feet anymore. So we reluctantly turned our feet to Morrisons, to end our journey with a nice cold drink, nice hot pizza and eventually the warmth of the new, fresh scent of home.

So what was going to be a lovely stroll, turned into a lovely, fast paced adventure around a city I have come to love, and know a little more about today. Now to see where the rest of the trail goes...