Thursday 19 March 2009

1143 Whitburn

Whatever else happens in my life, I have had a glorious walk today around Whitburn. There has been a sun shining blue sky from before 7am until the dusk descended just before 9pm while I stood above the amphitheatre listening to heavy rock from The Summer of 68, a local band and regular at the Cave Tyne Dock. I have walked at least five miles in two sessions and been out in the fresh air for nearly five hours.

I awoke, went back to bed and sleep but still was at work before 9, having a double breakfast of cereal and two boiled eggs around 10, knowing that I would be eating later than usual because of the walk planned. I also planned lunch, packing a cool bag with a separate drink's bag inside. I responded to some of my internet inbox promising myself to attend to the remainder before bedtime. I failed because of the decision to go out again in the evening

There was the clearest of blue skies on looking out and up through the workroom window. There was no progress regarding the Foot and Mouth Inquiry, but later listening to an interview with the Chief Executive of the Environment Protection agency she was more specific that other interviewees in ruling out airborne and drainage reasons and fixing on human transference in some way. This confirmed my interpretation of what was said yesterday

I also shared the views of those listeners who found the interview with the mother of the child who "disappeared" from the holiday room on Portugal where she had been left by her parents alone without adult supervision while they eat a meal very odd, odd. indeed and reminded of a recent film experienced again on DVD and mentioned in a writing. The nature and form of questions by the BBC interviewer echoed my thoughts. I was being unfair, prejudiced. Later police in Belgium announced the DNA on the bottle checked from a motorway restaurant where a passer by had become convinced she had seen the child with a couple who had then gone off in a car, was that of a male. However despite media pleas the family have not come forward, although the possibility exists they were going on holiday to a land of a different language, and keeping away from current media is part of the holiday. There are always different possible explanations for every behaviour, and who is to say which is the correct one?

There was good news that it was reported that the Scottish number one goal keeper is to sign for Sunderland for a reported fee of £9 million, making him the most expensive goal keeper purchased as well as the most expensive player ever signed by the club. Later the signing was confirmed.

I managed to leave the house and arrived at the Whitburn car park about 11 am. The sun was bright and the sea glistened to provide some fantastic photographs. There was a pleasant cooling breeze but I was right to put on some heavy duty suntan lotion, neglected until now. The walk along the working farm and then behind the target embankments for the territorial shooting ranges was longer than I remember, although did recall the rock and sand bay with banks of wild flowers above. I had also forgotten the extent of Whitburn Leas although they are small in comparison to those at South Shields, one cannot see one end from the other, with council rented property backing on to them before attractive individual styled private houses several with first floor veranda's. About half a dozen properties in the village have established palm trees growing in gardens. Walking towards the end of the Leas the air was clear enough to see the coastline extending beyond Sunderland to Hartlepool and Middlesbrough and the Tees, twenty to thirty miles away distant..

I stopped for a polystyrene mug of tea and a packet of crisps at the kiosk by the car park at the end of the Leas and above Whitburn sands. I enjoyed a sit at a table before photographing the Bent's Fisherman's cottages which had been bombed during World War Two. Then crossed over to what I had always thought was Bents Park South, the last coast road park in South Tyneside only to find it is called Cornthwaite Park. Is this a recent renaming? There is a small narrow area of water and stone which I do not remember from before, and the flower bed displays are attractive as anywhere else in the Borough. Whitburn Cricket Club is also very attractive ground, previously under attack from developers at one point. It has one boundary with the former Whitburn Hall now developed into flats. Petrol is no longer sold at the Whitburn garage but the fresh fish outlet remains. There are still small fishing boats which are moored at sea off Whitburn sands, and then brought up a slip way for severe weather protection or major repair. There was a good crowd using the beach but nothing approaching the thousands at weekends or summer bank holidays.

If felt sufficiently refreshed from my cup of tea and sit, to walk through the Whitburn Village Green, one should say Greens to be more accurate. On the right as I walked westward there is a wide steep bank of green above which are the large houses two of which will be in the £500000 plus class over one million in a London suburb. However the most expensive house on the local market is at Cleaden at £1.1 million and where its owners have only recently added an indoor pool, Jacuzzi, fitness centre building in its grounds. Did they know they would selling? Were the running costs too great? I wish I was in the buying market to make an enquiry and get an answer

The council has provided several seats at the lower end of the bank to sit under trees and admire the twin greens broken up by one attractive villa and where the war memorial is the centrepiece of the second green. The area is much bigger than from memory and even more attractive than my previous boast that it equalled those found elsewhere, especially as it is within years a couple of hundred meters of the cliffs and beaches. I did not walk the full length of the greens along the road which continues past agricultural land and the Sunderland AFC, but turned right to reach the parallel road which also continues along a rural road into the heart of Cleaden village. The purpose of the diversion was to photograph the village pond. On a roadside stretch of green alongside the road and the Barnes playfield there were several attractive banks of flowers. There is also an attractive row of stone villas and outside the Methodist church football boots and Wellingtons had become flower pots. Back on the village centre coastal road I passed the two pubs which serve meals, having missed to mention the little tea café where my mother and aunt used end their walks from my former home on their visits two to three decades ago.

I did not find the statue of Lewis Caroll and must assume that it had been moved from the Library to the park and not vice versa. The entrance to the Cemetery was looking exceptionally cheerful because of the colourful flower beds. A young pony rider training around the Windmill added to my picture, before I crossed over the road and walking through a council housing estate on to a path which first bisected a field west east and then ran south north and then west east once more with lots of brambles and nettles to be avoided. At this point there was the choice of continuing eastward to rejoin the cliff edge path or take a parallel path a little distance from the housing between trees and large flowering shrubs above head height so that the houses to the left and the sea to the right was blocked from sight. This created a different environment and atmosphere, and although tired I could have continued for longer, coming out within feet of where my vehicle was parked.

It was around 1.30 and there were several picnics on the grass surrounding the car park. I quickly unpacked my chair and enjoyed lunch of chopped orange pepper, cucumber, tomato and prawns, with Ciabatta bread and a banana. I lingered longer than I should because it was so enjoyable and then returned home reluctant debating staying out for longer but I remembered the evening rock bands at the Amphitheatre. (At Marsden there were more fire engines again but the groups of firemen indicated that this was a planned training exercise). I stayed longer than usual with my mother, as I have over the past three days because she is unhappy with a throat cold condition.

This evening I had a glass of red wine and a chilli pepper and chicken pizza, saving grapes and water melon for later and now. It was about 7.20 when I made my way across the parks to the rock concert. There was chill so I buttoned the sleeveless jacket although later standing against a wall overlooking the band the chill disappeared. The evening was as glorious as the morning reminding of balmy Mediterranean nights, amidst a local community atmosphere. There were between 750 and 500 attending for the second session a local rock band Summer of 68, the number reducing as being turned into night time, plus a mum of one vocalist guitar player with his young sister, About thirty bikers in leathers congregated round the ice cream tea outlet. There were two full Mohicans, one in brilliant purple and the other orange, plus other spikey hairs. One long green haired lass and one vivid in a bronzed dark red which I can still see. There were many children and younger teens with the majority 18-25, but there were about a dozen grey and white hairs like me, several with pony tails and two perhaps three, older.

There were people all over the sands, some in the water, and of all ages and many of the younger people moved on to the sands as the concert ended. The coloured lights were coming on in the amusement park and amusements centres, the purple blue of Dunes standing out and the lights were also on the beacons at the end of the two river entrance piers. The castle and priory ruins became silhouettes on the Tynemouth headland. Some young drivers continued the concert with blaring music from the cars, and two young men burnt rubber defying the speed restraining road humps as they departed up along ocean road, as I returned up my hill and home.

I attempted to end ended the evening with an internet rented DVD Renaissance, a French film production with Miramax which took six years to create using actors wearing black suits with markers dotted on the surface which recorded movements of limbs, faces and eyes against a blue screen with digital backlot. Each scene was then recorded using computer software to create 3D animated models around the motion captured data. The blue screen created a virtual setting around the models and the black and white effect was then added using lighting. The film has a Sin City atmospheric but without any colour. So much for the technology and the film and its subject? I dozed off a couple of times, abandoned the viewing and went to bed and immediate sleep. It was before midnight

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