Morpeth

Vivien and I had a lovely day out last week; we went up to Morpeth.  It's a pretty little market town, the County Town of Northumberland.  

She and I have each worked there at different times and have pleasant memories of the place.  

The weather that day was unbelievably glorious - about 80 F. and I gradually shed my layers, regretting my heavy tights and thermal vest.

We had lunch at the Wheatsheaf, a little cafe down an alley way I'd never have noticed without her pointing it out to me.  

Then we scoured all the charity shops, looking for not much in particular, though I decided a navy purse wouldn't go amiss, and sure enough I bagged one (sorry).

We walked over to the pedestrian bridge because I thought it particularly picturesque.  Also, I have a bit of a thing about bridges, just like I do balconies, turrets and other romantic architecture.

I was envying the people whose houses backed onto the River Wansbeck (excepting that there was a terrible flood there a few years ago) when a familiar face passed by.  

I just grabbed her name -- Helen -- out of distant memory before she left speaking distance.  She recognised us at once - in spite of my new hair colour - and stopped for a chat.  

She's been retired about 5 years now. We all admired the lovely heron just beyond the road bridge.

 
On the way back to the car we detoured slightly to capture the Clock Tower, probably about the most notable feature of Morpeth.   It was difficult to get decent photos because the sun was so bright, but you'll not catch me complaining for one second!

I tried also to take pictures of the Town Council building.  

I remember years ago when we used to do the Morpeth to Newcastle race on New Years Day (about 14 miles).   Alas, England's oldest road race is no more.

 
The Hunt was still going on back then - also no more, though I can't say I grieve it.  For the New Year's Day Hunt the riders gathered outside the Town Council building, dressed in their red jackets and surrounded with packs of dogs making a terrible racket.  

I never knew which direction they headed, but was glad not to encounter them on my way towards Newcastle.

 

Leaving Morpeth, we stopped for a cool drink and some delicious vanilla ice cream at Blagdon, which I've shown you before.  I took a million more pictures in the shop there, so you may see even more of the Milkhope Centre one day.