Weather reports and train travel.

Yesterday I ran into old Jack and his little dog Rosie, something that happens once or twice a week when I go out for a run. After chatting about this and that for a while, Jack told me that it was his birthday. He was going home to help his wife tidy up as he fully expected lots of visitors. His daughter had already been round with an electronic weather predictor, a gadget into which you feed a certain amount of data about where you are and so on and it tells you what the weather will be like. I suspect his computer could already do that for him but his daughter had probably been at a loss for what to give him. We laughed about the days when children's comics used to give you instructions for making a rain detector out of blotting paper. You usually had to make it in the shape of an American Indian and call it Big Chief Rain in the Face! But in the end we agreed that boys need new toys for their birthday, even when they are 77! 

Later Phil and I set off to catch a train to Newcastle, on our way to visit an old friend in Gateshead. The train was only moderately full until we reached Huddersfield, where it filled up and people with reserved seats had to go around asking others to move out of their places. Opposite us was a group of young women, talking nineteen to the dozen with a young man they had clearly got to know only as they waited for the train. As the refreshment trolley made its way through the compartment they insisted on buying bottles of wine - okay, only small bottles - even bought it soon became clear they were only going one stop along the line. Clearly their weekend was beginning there and then. And they obviously we're of the school that says you can't enjoy yourself without alcohol. Pretty soon most of us learnt that they were going to do some kind of parachute jump. The last time they had tried to do this it had been cancelled because of bad weather but the weather forecast was good enough for them to give it another try. One of them was very nervous. She had, she said, given herself some training by going on the Pepsi Max Big One at Blackpool, one of those rides where you are strapped in, taken up to a great height and dropped suddenly. It had not gone well as she had started to panic and hyperventilate half way up. So how was she going to manage from a plane? And then there was the speed thing. She had never been in a car at 100 miles an hour, let along the speed a plane goes at. How would she cope? 

Fortunately, I never need to find out the end of that tale. Not long afterwards a young man came and sat next to us, again the refreshments trolley came along and he asked if they had any lager. Yes, indeed. He could have one can for a certain price or two for a reduced price. His eyes met mine and he grinned as he turned down the offer of a cheap rate second can, declaring that he didn't plan to get drunk. But obviously the refreshment trolley guy sold enough that way to make it worth his while offering the deal. 

Lots of people must begin their weekend quite early on a Friday, often starting the celebrations on the train, judging by our experience on this train. But when did the weekend start commencing at three or four o'clock on a Friday? 

Today we have strolled around the excellent Saltwell Park, here in Gateshead. Here are a couple of photos.