Then I was on the road to Reading's partner in the Leeds-Reading festival. Leeds. Obviously. I would be in Leeds a few times over the next few days. This is the city of my birth, so it's normal to end up back there... still... it's a bit excessive to be back there too much. It's ok. I'd be back there again in another 12 or so days!
Anyway, I picked up my friend from Leeds, we went to see his house, which is progressing, and then we headed to Newcastle. My ex-adopted-home-town.
The plan was straightforward: improvise a good night out on Saturday and then, on Sunday, improvise a good day out. I won't go into details of either day except to say that it was a case of job done. I think we managed to see the sea of drunkenness in Newcastle and then successfully avoid it, finding a more intimate bar in which to get so drunk that a local charver commented "Eeeeh - heee's morrrtal". Of course in Newcastle, many people are immortal.
Anyway, Sunday's fun had the interesting side effect of furnishing me with 12 pairs of cheap and lovely 100% cotton socks. The sort of socks I used to buy when I lived in Newcastle... except they closed the market that sold them. And I've found where they went. Yay. Bless their little cotton so... you get the idea.
Sunday evening was a drive back from Newcastle to Leeds and then a long-haul from Leeds to Reading. I'd be back in Leeds the following night, so I didn't need to get too misty eyed about leaving the place.
If I learned one thing about the weekend, I learned that Newcastle ROCKS and I miss it.