A lazy day. Rain. Eggs on toast for lunch.  Eventually we drove to Gateshead to see the Angel of the North, which spreads its wings in welcome.  Not everyone loves it but I reckon as far as public art goes, I’ve seen much worse.  The dull grey sky made photographing it difficult; however If you look closely at the second photo, you’ll see a teeny tiny replica angel. It might be someone you know.

W H Auden wrote the following verse, called Roman Wall Blues:

“Over the heather the wet wind blows,

I’ve lice in my tunic and cold in my nose.

The rain comes pattering out of the sky.

I’m a wall soldier; I don’t know why.”

It’s time to shake the Northumberland mud off our shoes and head south.