Blyth
Padraig eventually got here. We got the 310 to Blyth and met up with Paul, another old mate from Libya. It felt a bit strange, sitting in a North East pub, (The Steam Boat: pricey) drinking Guinness, talking about our time out there, it all seems so unreal: the hours and days and weeks with no entertainment but a good book.
We missed the last 310 and instead got a bus to Newcastle and then, after a short refreshment break in the Percy Arms by the Haymarket, home by metro, where we ate beef in beer.
After he left for his B & B last night, Pad texted me to say he's staying another night. Hmm. Maybe we'll go to the beach.
Wish I'd been there - it's a while since I've had a pint in Blyth, and even longer since I've been in the Percy Arms.
ReplyDeletePadraig and Paul - they haven't changed a bit, but I bet Blyth has, and the Percy Arms too.
Peter, set up your own blog, fuck's sake - even if it's just pictures, it'll be great.
ReplyDelete