Day 1: Newcastle upon Tyne: reflecting on ruins

We saw quite a lot of the National Rail System today, but it all worked like clockwork and gave us some insights into rail history. The day began in York and ended in the village of Wylam, and all the while we seemed much more embedded in history than one does in London’s busy-ness.

The outdoor shop, Blacks, were at the end of a moving sale and we just didn’t have enough spaces in our baggage to buy some of the high quality, crazy bargains that were on offer; but we did manage a bit on Sunday’s walk. Monday morning found us back at the store looking for a last few things – with rain predicted, dry bags were a thing, plus a rain cover for Paula’s daypack, and in a moment of inspiration, a waterproof map cover. A last minute pack and we were down the hill to York station.

For some reason I don’t take enough pictures of stations, but as pieces of living industrial archeology they are endlessly fascinating. Places like Grand Central or ST Pancras were obviously the cathedrals of the new industries (and I love Paddington’s iron work), and you can even see something of the same ilk at Central Station in Sydney. The great Parisian stations are fascinating. However, regional Britain has this extraordinary collection of mid-19th Century buildings which are all little time capsules to Victorian engineering — we’ve seenWaverley, Temple Meads, Bath, York and now Newcastle.

For those who are not Victorian fans, I apologise, but I do think the railways define so much of the age. Reflecting on The Invisible Woman (Tomalin’s book as much as Fienne’s film), Dicken’s mid to late career was defined by the Age of Iron (think of the Iron Master in Bleak House), and his personal life by railway timetables (true!). Dicken’s became the hero of a railway accident, his tours depended on railways especially to the Midlands and North, and Nelly Ternan’s love nest in Windsor had the advantage of being 40 minutes from Gad’s Hill on two different lines!

All this leads on to that other great feature of British industrial history, shipbuilding. I know that BAE have just build two aircraft carriers for the Navy, but the fact remains that British shipbuilding has been in retreat since the Second World War. This fact was dramatically brought home when, after leaving our bags at our Wylam B and B, we hopped back to Newcastle to visit the fort at Segudunum, which was hidden for centuries under slum housing built for Swan Hunter Shipyards. Swan’s were the design innovators of the early 20th Century, building the Mauretania, the fastest ship of its day, and a huge list of naval vessels into the 21st Century. This is the yard in the 60s:

THis is the same spot today, which the graving dock that first held the Mauretania obvious in the centre.

It’s all a bit sad, and you are left with the impression that Wallsend and perhaps much of Newcastle is a college of ruins. The site was a Roman camp, possible a British outpost, a colliery, a pit, and then housing for a bustling shipyard that went bust after 150 years of building ships.

Anyway, our primary purpose here is for the Romans (and what did they ever do for us?). Given the archeological significance of the site, it was deserted, which was a shame given the quality of the galleries. I suppose people want to see reconstructions, whereas what was visible was mostly the outline of the excavations: far to academic.

SO back we went to Wylam, past the heritage listed signal box, to a comfy night’s rest and dinner at the Swan at Overington, because all the Wylam eateries were closed!