For the Queen! Part the First.

At long last, I have enough time (and enough ribbing from certain UK residents about the lack of Scottish/English content on this blog) to do a proper post about England. I totally had begun, in my notebook, an Austenesque letter about Lyme Park, the site of Pemberley in the BBC Pride and Prejudice, and so I'm just gonna keep it up, I think. If I start getting tired, some places might be reduced to Haiku, but we'll see how it goes.

Arrived in Newcastle on the fourth of April, on a morning as ponderous and cold as most of the Georgian Blocks which dominate the city itself. Indeed, I think Newcastle much diminished by the general pallor of its unfortunate Celestial Aspect, for in Edinburgh there is the same sort of venerable, prodigious stone marvels, yet one does not have the sensation one might be chundered on at any moment. However, for all that, Newcastle is not without its curiosities and charms. The Keep located within the town center, which can only properly be described as wee, affords the traveler a view of the city and the many quixotic juxtapositions of its buildings. Hoary stone constructions consume the majority of the space; but a great silver mollusk cheerfully squats beside the Tyne, and several bright bridges arched like cats rubbing on a newly pressed suit engender various degrees of affection.



There is also an Oriental Quarter, pungent and cluttered and identical to any of that ilk, and the remains of the great Roman Wall, which has been so far reduced that it must more properly be termed the Roman Walkway. The most delightful site to which I was conducted by my Guide was the Great North Museum, which contains enough fine animal specimens for an taxidermical ark, enough stonework from the Roman period to explain the fate of the fallen wall, and in general enough of other peoples' rubbish to quite satisfy my own noisiness. We continued to Tyneside, an quaint, pretty, much neglected place by the water, stopped to take note of the monastery there, and proceeded to walk along the Tyne, as ill-kept and stinking a riverside as to rival the better parts of the Mississippi.



The house in which I stayed was the home of my Guide, a Young Man, and His Parents. As such, the clean, modest, comfortable residence was the focus of very many deprecations and abuses on the part of the Younger, and much anxiousness on the part of the Elders. These, I believe, were so taken aback by my Southern form of address that, not having encountered politeness in their own Young People, were greatly diverted by its sudden appearance. A fine, home-cooked meal and a trip to a sleepy public house afterwords made very agreeable the evening I spent attempting to explain the disagreeable aspects of my own Country to my curious Hosts. Fortunately, most of the remarks solicited from me concerned the State of Florida, and thus could be written off as aberrations inapplicable to the whole.

Good food, good company, and a great deal of walking did much to foster a favorable opinion of Newcastle, although I must own I do not feel the urge to return there.