Sunday the 9th of August - to Chester-le-Street

Well , Sunday's word of the day began as being 'Bede', and ended up as 'Chafing' . The day began with me getting a lift to St Peter's with Jenny. I hung around taking photos for about twenty minutes until Tom appeared,to let me in, and I started taking more photos.

Anthony turned up a few minutes later, followed by two cars full of my cousins Terri and Julie,
Terri's husband Martin, and their mates Tanya, Catherine and Gary..and a dog called Isaac.

During the short ceremony at 7.50, my cousin Terri's Ipod wouldn't stop playing, but as she ran outside...it stopped! I took it as a good luck sign, and we set off at 8.15 along Newcastle (or is it Sunderland?) Road. I spent a lot of time talking to Anthony, who didn't know anyone else - he'd said he wanted to walk about two weeks earlier, and his involvement is JUST what this
walk is all about: anyone can join! He's also helped a lot in the preparation, by liaising with Guildford, and discovering more about the Jarrow Stone than I knew myself.

It was a great walk - past the greyhound stadium, through Boldon, and into my cousin Julie's House for a (perfectly-located) stop just before Asda. I got my first 'good luck; phone call there : from a friend who I've arranged to stay with on my first two nights in London, and we continued, on and behind the Cotswolds Estate to the first 'hill' of the walk: up to Brockley Whins Station. It was turning into a glorious day for a lovely walk, but as we got through the Scotch Estate,it
was obvious that it was too nice, and we weren't going to make the 'two hour's' duration I'd promised. I stepped up the pace, and Anthong and I hotfooted it through the Bede Industrial Estate, and to St Paul's for 10.40.

When we went in, we were applauded. That's the first time anyone has ever done that to me, and that was the moment that I knew the walk could never fail, and that it has really started. That - and the blessing Jenny gave me during the service- where the moments I really knew what other people were investing in this walk. The good wishes given were are something I can't forget, or chicken-out of, or give up upon. Thanks to eveyone there: I'm remembering it all the time.


After the service, everything became a 'whirl' for an hour. Victoria and Julie were there, from Sunderland Council, organising the press in the same way that they've made the preparation for the walk seem a lot more professional than I could have possibly mustered, alone. And then there was the press...a reporter from the Chronicle, who tok everything doen in shorthand. a
TV interview with the BBC or ITV - I still don't know which -, loads of photographs. In total, I don't know how many papers were represented, but I'm guessing one put the phrase 'putting his best foot forward' under some photo of me striding out. I met Jenny, and Bishop Mark, and during the photos, Bill turned up. The Mayor and Mayoress were there also; the Mayor telling me that my pack was a lot heavier than it looked. Mu old uni mate, Jan Loland turned up as
well, which was a great gesture considering he's from Oslo, and probably descended from the same Vikings who pillaged Jarrow (and were also shipwrecked and routed at Jarrow...). There was a meal in Jarrow Hall with Bishop MArk, Bill, Bill's wife Angela, Kate, Jenny and myself,
with Jan having a polite cup of coffee, and we were off-after a few photos - through Jarrow.




It had been my intention to walk past the Town HAll, but it didn't seem necessary. This is the route of the March, yes, and that left JArrow via GRange Road, but this isn't an attempt to re-do the March, which was a one-off, and a part of history so perfectly-stated that it needs no revision. It isn't 1936 in JArrow any more, and there'll be quirks to the route, and because roads are more dangerous today, I'll deviate from the exact route many times. The March was a reaction to times of desperation, where this walk is more of a celebration of what WEarmouth-Jarrow have always had.

The five of us left Bede's World at 1.30, walking over the Tyne Tunnel, Up Monkton Road, Croft Terrace, Suffolk Street (you know what I'm thinking, Terri) BedeBurn Road, through Monkton Village, Campbell Park Road and on the footpath through the field to White Mare Pool. Bill
had a problem with his shoes, and on Leam Lane, had to 'order a pair of sandals', ad I'd started to feel a little sandpapered - the 'John Wayne' walk had begun.








At Springwell we did the sharp turn south, past the Angel of the North, into Birtley, down the long street and beyond, into the outskirts of Chester-le-Street. By 5.30 we were there, and I bidded goodbye to the other
four in the MArket Place, where I was handed over to Val Wilson, and in her house, her husand, Bill. I received the best reception I could have possibly wished for, a 'dousing' shower, a lovely meal, a few glasses of red, wonderful conversation and a great bed