Yes, I really have done a post on Gateshead without leading with the Angel at the top.
But don’t worry, she’ll be back. Oh yes.
This is a prototype, modelled (possibly) on Mrs Ethel Milburn of Benton. It’s on display in Shipley Art Gallery, where I was the only visitor. You can’t give art away these days.
Parked up near the smarter bit of Gateshead (think De Beauvoir in North London) I get a new perspective on the underrated town on the walk to the Tyne, from civic pride to scruffy hotels.
I never saw Ye Olde Fleece or Ophelia Balls. But a single handpump dispensing Tyneside Blonde would probably get it in the Guide.
The centre may have lost the iconic multistorey carpark beloved of Michael Caine, bit it’s a bit functional and modern. Nice statue of BRAPA, too.
Gateshead really comes alive as you reach the High Level Bridge with its views, the best in Newcastle/Gateshead, and look under the railway arches.
First there was the rebirth of The Central.
And now the equally wonderful Station East.
Atmospheric, cosy, warmer than outside, I loved it.
You’ll never guess what they had on.
Actually, I had the first one, as that had just been poured. That strategy works unless it’s Donnington.
I think the enthusiastic barman saw my indecision over the Plum Porter, and offered a taster. You know where I stand on those.
Pretty well perfect, a half served in an oversized glass always helps. Cool, rich, frothy. I gave it NBSS 4.
Don’t know how you’d describe this, micro size but pubby values.
Very Berlin, though I doubt you get cheese and onion pasties in Friedrichschain.
Classy but unfussy proper seating, and an excellent upstairs area for Simon to eavesdrop and take photos with his famous disposable camera.
Which is what I should have done, rather than crossing the Tyne.