Tourists?



We went to South Shields this morning on what my Mam still sometimes calls 'a message', (= an errand; shopping; visit to the pub; 'mind your own business' - , a marvellous word to flummox small children). Anyway, the message concluded, we went down to the ferry landing in the hope of seeing a Tall Ship sailing in.

It was drizzly, so we went into the 'Alum Ale House' as it's now called, though it used to be 'The Ferry'. It was once a dreadful pub. On an occassion, some time in the late 70s it would have been, I was in there, and a couple were actually having sex, standing at a corner of the bar... You know how it is when you're trying not to look but can't stop your eyes drifting that way?

That was then, now it's ever so nice. We sat in that left hand, lower bay window you can see in the picture. I had a pint, Herself coffee (REAL coffee, in The Ferry!?), and as we left the lad behind the bar was asking if we were here for the Tall Ships and I realised he thought we were tourists. Do you know, he would be the right age to have been conceived at the very spot where he was stood asking me daft questions?

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