Train trip to Newcastle

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Staying in a guesthouse in Jesmond, by Northumberland's cricket ground, on the north side of Newcastle. Friday night we ate nearby at a superb and reasonably priced Italian restaurant Mescalzone (courtesy of my friend Jane's previous internet research).
Saturday we walked into town and spent the day wandering about on foot and on a bus tour. Some of the city is beautiful, with a lot of Georgian architecture, some elegant streets plunging down to the Tyne, with high road or rail bridges peeping through and parts of the Norman castle still preserved. The Quayside by the Tyne is an excellent place with great views of the four bridges, but rather quiet as people were driven away by the rain. Over the Millennium Bridge to the Baltic building, which has five floors of art exhibitions and good views of the river, and further north east the Biscuit Factory with its affordable (well nearly) art is definitely worth a visit (and the blueberry sorbet in the factory kitchen is divine).
Sunday we took the Metro train to Tynemouth on the coast and met up with an old friend. This was a good move as it is the prettiest station on the Metro system, with elegant wrought iron roof supports, and with a thriving market every Sunday. Another Norman castle here (William the Conqueror was certainly busy) and a lovely Victorian crescent of houses overlooking the sandy beaches and the sea, which had a few ships anchored. Apparently they belong to a Dutch company which has gone bankrupt, so cargo and crew await instructions.
For the return trip we took the ferry across the Tyne from North Shields to South Shields, and back along to Gateshead (apparently a corruption of Goat's Head according to the Venerable Bede).
This time we walked across the Tyne over the high bridge, a Grade 1 listed rail and road bridge to visit the Quayside market and Dala, the Swedish deli for meatballs on rye bread with beetroot relish. Jane knew the mother of the proprietor, so we went there each day.
Newcastle is the venue for stag and hen parties, and Saturday night was heaving with men in tee shirts and women in teetering heels, pouring in and out of pubs and clubs.
Saturday and Sunday evenings we went to jazz clubs in the town. Saturday was so-so, so we left in the break. Sunday was so far out, we left in the break too. There were three excellent musicians on double bass, sax, and vibes; mostly playing at the same time, never apparently playing the same tune, and seemingly surprised by what the others were doing. Fascinating to watch but fairly discordant to listen to.

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