Before this trip I had never been to Newcastle, albeit I did have an opportunity whilst working in London in the early 90s. The Insurance company I was working for underwrote risk in the business sector and my role was to accompany the underwriters to assess the credit worthiness of UK steel companies, large and small. One particular underwriter, Tim, was one of those typical London finance execs of the time – one who believed the secret to understanding risk was to take clients out for very long lunches. I was, of course, an enthusiastic party to a great many of these sessions – but alas I was only just getting over a hangover from one particularly momentous lunch when the offer came to travel to Newcastle. I had to decline.

Jo and I flew direct to Newcastle from Dublin and stayed with very good old friends Claudia and Geoff. Claudia was one of the original members of the Wellington Dutch Mother and baby group set up by Jolanda in the mid 90s. Claudia and Geoff live in a gorgeous old farmhouse in a village called Prudhoe on the outskirts of Newcastle – with rolling hills and farmland as a backdrop. Claudia is an excellent artist and textile designer – Geoff a tutor, gardener and budding beekeeper.

One of the reasons for visiting Newcastle was to delve a little into my family tree. My Granny, who I was very close to, grew up in a house at 94 Osborne Rd. She married a naval officer and so also ended up returning to the family home when my Grandfather was at sea on exercises. She wrote a fascinating commentary on life growing up in Newcastle which we re-read whilst in Newcastle. The family home had five bedrooms, two nurseries and housed the family of seven plus at least 3-4 servants. Incredibly, but not incredible for the time, there was only one bathroom. Granny had great memories of the window washer removing the coaly grime, organ grinders and their monkeys, the cullercoats fishwives delivering fish (most food was delivered in those days) and general goings-on in the household and on the street.

Osborne Rd is now quite a trendy area of Newcastle with cafes, shops, bars and many small hotels. We visited the house which has been turned into apartments (we counted ten doorbells) and wandered around the neighbourhood – including of course a visit to yet another charity shop where we added to our burgeoning collection of clothes for travelling.

From Osborne Rd we travelled to the village of Ryton where my Great Great Grandfather was the rector. We found the Rectory house which is simply enormous (Granny remembers there being twelve bedrooms) situated next to the picturesque Holy Cross Church. The house was built in the time of Henry VIII and added onto over the years. It’s now spilt into two adjoining residences – knocking at both doors we introduced ourselves and were welcomed in for a coffee. An elderly gentleman called Robert remembered my Granny coming to visit many years ago and knew a lot about the history of the building. Amazingly we were shown a window with the name “Ella Baily” scratched into the pane – we later found out this was Granny’s aunt. Obviously those windows were fitted to last in those days . . .

By the way, the photo at the beginning of this blog is taken in front of Ryton Rectory. My Great Great Grandfather is the one with the impressive beard seated in the middle. My Granny is at the bottom left.

The rest of our time in Geordie Land was spent feeling a little under the weather – both of us still getting over the bug we had picked up in Ireland. My recovery of course wasn’t helped after an evening with Geoff on the whiskey. But we couldn’t have picked a nicer and more welcoming atmosphere to convalesce in – see you in New Zealand in the new year Claudia and Geoff . . .

From Newcastle our next destination is North Wales via a short stop in the Lake District . . .