Like many European countries, Britain is a collection of regional identities with parochial loyalties and suspicions. I came from the south around the middle, with regular visits to the South-West. London was a huge urban area. Anything north of the M4, a motorway running between London and Bristol, was suspect, a land of smoke and industry with lots of crime, immigrants, bad weather and people who spoke with weird accents. The 'Black Country'. If one had to go to Scotland, the best idea was to get on a motorway north, and hold your breath until you saw some tartan.
Occasionally people would try to disabuse me of these prejudices. Tiff persuaded me that Worcester was not like the opening scenes of Peaky Blinders, and I visited him there in 2015. I had to agree that it was more like 'The Darling Buds of May'.
So one agenda for this trip was to explore places that had been previously off-limits, like the area north of Newcastle where people speak with an incomprehensible accent called 'Geordie'.
Northumberland, the NE tip of England
I met Paul on a canal cruise near Bordeaux. He lives near Warkworth, and I drove up the A1 to stay with him for a few days.
Paul
'It's not usually this cold'.
Dill, one of Paul's animals
Alnwick Castle
Dunstanburgh Castle
Paul, the history guide. The Romans want to keep the stroppy Scots out, ie to the left of this escarpment.
Hadrian's Wall. I'm on the southern, English side.
Sycamore Gap, Hadrian's Wall
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