Pitney, Kielder & ±«Óãtv Radio Newcastle ( 5th April)
Where were you when you heard that Gene Pitney had died? For me it was on the road between Rothbury and Otterburn, heading towards the and listening to ±«Óãtv Radio Newcastle.
We've grown very fond of this station in the past few days.Personally I've enjoyed listening to radio for sheer pleasure without any nagging sense of responsibility for the output. The music of Radio Newcastle - Everly Brothers, Abba, Simon & Garfunkel - is just the sort of singalong stuff you need when you're clocking up the miles on winding country roads and it's funny how you can become familiar with a station's schedule and personalities after just a few days.
Mike Parr presents the breakfast show and sounds like the fatherly authority figure on the station. This morning he was interviewing a "teacher of the year", though not this year, as it turned out. The best moment was when a former pupil of this wonderful teacher called in to confirm that he was indeed as wonderful as evetyone said he was. She prattled on in this fashion for five minutes until the poor teacher managed to get a word in himself...
"First of all, " he said, "can I just say that it's been a good few years since you left school and you really don't have to call me 'sir' anymore."
Later we were enjoying a lively debate about tatoos and whther or not Noel Edmonds has one on his hand when the news broke about Gene Pitney's death. At the age of 65, Gene had apparently collapsed in a hotel room in Cardiff. He'd been on a U.K. tour and the Radio Newcastle presenters sounded genuinely upset.
Meanwhile our journey had taken to to Otterburn Mill where we stopped for tea and muffins and a look at the looms. Upsatirs there's a bookshop that doubles as a travel agency. You find yourself persusing paperbacks while women on computer terminals arrange foreign car-hire bookings.
Back in the car and we made our way to Kielder Water. A eye-popping journey through and ever-changing ladnscape of forests and moors and on a road that climbed and dipped and twisted and turned. Our arrival at Tower Knowe was something of an anti-climax. The place looked like a motorway service station. We didn't linger but drove to the next bay - Leaplish - which, to be honest, was equally bleak. In an almost empty restaurant we found some menus. Braised beef seemed to be a speciality and there were two versions of this. You could have the beef served in a giant Yorkshire pudding or else with a dumpling plonked on top. I had the latter, the rest of the family went for sandwiches.
A brochure had enticed us to Kielder Water with, among other things, the promise of a crazy golf course. The Zedettes are keen on this so I asked the waitress if she could direct us to the "crazy fairway". Alas, it hadn't been built yet. Apparently there had been some argument about the proposed colour scheme for the crazy golf course. Artistic differences, she said. I kid you not.
After lunch we wandered through a gift shop attached to the restaurant which, it seems, also serves as a grocery store for holiday-makers staying on the on-site chalets. A few pathetic tins of pink salmon stood alongside racks of weatherproof clothing. In a rare act of fatherly generosity I bought the remaining stock of Curly Wurlys (all four of them) and handed them out to the family in lieu of dessert. A mutiny erupted so I agreed to stop off at Rothbury on the return journey and buy ice cream.
