WOOLER, WOOLER, WOOLER, UH, TELL ME MORE

The problem with having an early night (22.30 rather than the usual 01:00) is you wake up at about 04.37, see that Russ has written you an essay and never get back to sleep. Six hours sleep is plenty, sometimes more than enough.

I emerged from the campervan with one of those craft beer carry-outs full of wee to a glorious dawn. A hangover-free Baa Baa Toure was already up enjoying the Rothbury sun.

I needed a proper breakfast to kickstart the day. Half an hour up the fabled A697, immortalised in song by Queens of the Stone Age, Wooler had a Milk Bar.

I thought milk bars only existed in mid Wales, opened by Methodists who’d closed all the pubs on Sunday.

Unfortunately, as you’ll see from the picture, Doddington Dairy’s bar was take-out only, but they kindly guided me toward the Terrace Cafe in town.

Over the bridge, I was able to do some of that twitching.

James says this is a chicken, but I’m sure it’s a pigeon. Duncan can have it for his mascot.

Wooler is pleasant but functional in the way that small towns along Offa’s Dyke often are.

Some Scottish looking architecture, a “healing space” near the TIC, and a Co-Op that shouted “Come in, it is safe” to me as I walked past.

I’m a law-abiding member of society, I am (bar the incident in Worcester in ’93 we don’t talk about), so I waited for the Green Light, like law-abiding Cliff Richard, and popped in for some murk for Mrs RM and cough candy for me.

Then I was first in to the Terrace at 8.30 opening, taking my mask on and off 3 times and grabbing the window seat.

I kid you not, by 8:45 it was packed. A dozen gentlefolk on ones and twos, all commiserating loudly with each other about the new infringements on their liberty.

Ooh, it’s a terrible thing Billy

Wear yer mask Carol or they’ll close us doon

Everything’s so sanitised now, no-one gets germs”

My hands are so clean they’re transparent

It was like being in a magical pub, where they put on a little play in local dialect for you. Only with a full English in front of you.

Wonderful meat, questionable mushrooms, decent coffee. An 8/10 cafe experience, and evidence that the British love a good crisis.

11 thoughts on “WOOLER, WOOLER, WOOLER, UH, TELL ME MORE

  1. More bird pics please. Interesting a heron is known as a chicken in the Fens. Congratulations on conquering Kingdom of Northumbria. Looking forward to your end of month pictorial summary plus Twitter’s most popular spreadsheet.

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      1. I’ve done about a million miles driving in this fair land, most of it for work purposes, and I thought that I would never, ever miss it when I retired, Paul.

        Yet I do, it turns out.

        I miss seeing the changing seasons across the different landscapes most of all, and even keeping abreast of the development of the highway network had its pleasures, now that I look back. I also did a lot of productive thinking, alone at the wheel, as you do.

        Tsk. Who’d ‘a’ thought it eh?

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I must be odd, love driving, 30-50,000 miles a year before and since early retirement with only a brief pause between mid March and June this year.

        I don’t always capture that scenery while driving, of course, but I reckon the views this last week in west Somerset and the Cheviots (Simonside hills) are as good as anything I’ve scene.

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      3. Since passing my driving test in 1985 I have driven about 152,000 miles of which nearly 139,000 have been at work since 2006 and most of that has been along country lanes so it could have been worse.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Ok, I’m going to try and catch up. We’ll see how that goes. Anyway…

    “see that Russ has written you an essay and never get back to sleep”

    Oh sure; blame me. 🙂

    “I emerged from the campervan with one of those craft beer carry-outs full of wee”

    I take it the ‘wee’ here doesn’t refer to excitement.

    “Half an hour up the fabled A697, immortalised in song by Queens of the Stone Age, Wooler had a Milk Bar.”

    You lost me at ‘fabled A697’. Sorry but ‘fabled’ can only refer to the A514. 😉

    “James says this is a chicken, but I’m sure it’s a pigeon.”

    My guess would be a Kingfisher in drag (owing to the pink).

    “in the way that small towns along Offa’s Dyke often are.”

    There’s whole towns devoted to lesbians?

    “so I waited for the Green Light”

    Crikey! Do the supply a Hazmat suit at the entrance?

    “taking my mask on and off 3 times and grabbing the window seat.”

    Is that the latest UK version of the Hokey Pokey?

    “Only with a full English in front of you.”

    Oof. It’s 9:45pm here and I haven’t had supper yet. That looks scrumptious!

    Cheers

    Liked by 1 person

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