Newcastle to Dundee
(1 – 8 August 2024)
The Road to Whitley Bay
I’m pedalling again and it’s strange without Den
But here’s where the mystery thickens
It’s not his bad knee or a spat with me
He’s just feeding his neighbour’s chickens.
So I’ll join Tim’s crew who out of the blue
Are cycling as far as Dundee
They’d an evening of quiet, missed the Hartlepool riot,
Hope to meet them at Tynemouth for tea.
The train runs to plan, but of course it’s rammed
Cause the one before got canned
At the toon I’m straight through, on seventy-two
A route that’s familiar but grand
Tynemouth is Iron Age, says its history page
And I really should stop at the Priory
But my primary wish is Longsands’ Fish
Such joy when the girls were at uni
In 1639 came Cullercoats’ mine
Saltpans and fishing the main proclivities
But 12th century Whitley grew more quickly
Profiting from Crusaders’ activities
You wouldn’t think that Whitley could be confused with nearby Whitby
But a corpse was sent there wrongly all the same
This was just the final straw, so the locals fixed the flaw
By voting to add “Bay” to the name
It is glorious all the way and when I get to Whitley Bay
I’m looking for a Spanish City up above
Not Bilbao nor Pamplona, not Madrid nor Barcelona
But the one featured in Tunnel of Love…
Per Mark Knopfler
And now I’m searching through
these carousels and carnival arcades
Searching everywhere
from Steeplechase to Palisades
And any shooting gallery
where promises are made
To Rockaway, Rockaway
Rockaway, Rockaway
From Cullercoats and Whitley Bay
Out to Rockaway.
And girl it looks so pretty to me
Like it always did
Like the Spanish City to me
When we were kids.