Fragments of Unpopular Culture 10: On The Town

The next generation of Groundhopping is in good hands. Despite being morally flawed by his devotion to Heart of Midlothian, Steven McCann is a good lad with a good blog (http://thetravellingfan.blogspot.co.uk/) that includes trips to see Percy Main. He's regularly in these parts as his partner is from Newcastle. As a result, he wanted to blog about the place; I wrote this piece for him

“I loathe my childhood and all that remains of it…” (Jean Paul Sartre, “Les Mots”).

As a teenage existentialist, I could have picked a better place to be dragged up than Felling, a scenic fishing village on the south bank of the Tyne. Actually, the eastern exurb of Gateshead wasn’t that bad a spot in the late 70s; lax licensing laws in the local off licences and easy access to Newcastle meant gigs, pubs and St. James Park were always in reach.

Until I turned 18, I’d always wanted to escape the North East forever; I craved London applying to University there and scanning the NME gig guide each week as I was convinced I’d make a home there. Sadly, a Grade E in my French A Level (never could get my head around le subjunctif) stalled my progress. Instead of Goldsmiths in Lewisham, the University of Ulster in Coleraine was my destination. Three years of Guinness, cheeseburgers and draw later, I emerged without a short term memory but with a IIi. This was 1986; it was menial jobs in London, the dole on Tyneside or teaching.

Post PGCE in Leeds that hadn’t become a Yorkshire Milan, but still espoused a David Peace “Red Riding” ambience, I found myself back in Newcastle. Property, partner and a profession meant I’d never leave. The season ticket and son cemented my stay, until 1999 when I threw it all up to embrace a mid-life crisis in the shape of a Slovak odyssey in Bratislava. Running out of options in 2002, I came back to High Heaton; I’ll leave feet first in a box.

Newcastle is a great city; small enough to navigate, large enough to hide. It’s safe and hedonistic; it’s against conformity and in favour of brotherhood. I’m nearly 50 so I use it for gigs and real ale. The Ouseburn Delta is my spiritual home; The Tyne, The Free Trade & The Cluny provide all you need for a night out. If you want the city centre, The Bodega, Tilleys, The Head of Steam, The Forth and The Newcastle Arms have it all. The Quayside is shit, but the Crown Posada should be visited once in your life.

In the 47.5 years I’ve had on this planet, 39 of them have been spent within 3 miles of St. James’ Park. I don’t regret that at all.