Yesterday's short walk started where Daisy, the Chinese car, stopped, in the car park at Heaton Park, perfect for a decent wander up the Ouseburn talking to humans and their canine carers. This soon paid dividends as two Geordies and two small dogs were asked questions and offered a copy of The Light for information. After this a conversation developed with two more Geordies, one sporting a light blue top indicating his Italian heritage on his mother's side, which left this charming couple divided for the final today, but not leading to divorce since they found football a diversion rather than a cause for War to break out ...
At the top of the Burn, a left turn led towards the Town Moor and down towards the rallying point for the Resistance (Newcastle branch). This was open to all, including soft Southerners from Stanhope, not to mention Mackems from Sunderland. The only two I recognised from the small but growing crowd were Malcolm from Gateshead, who I met on Friday, and Will, from Hong Kong via some blood from Mongolia, actually reared, educated and expert in science of small diseases. He spoke at the last demo in Newcastle. New friends were quickly made, using the code words: I'm looking for trouble makers, are you one? If they scratched their heads and looked confused I tried the next one, until they said yes. Obviously, when talking to the two police officers watching the crowd, the question was different: What's going on here then, and what's your role? The two young men in uniform smiled and explained their job was to find where we were going, so they could help us to stay safe whilst crossing the roads. Which was kind.
Resistance leaders stepped forward with megaphone to excite the crowd and spread information about the vaccines, including how dangerous they were and designed to murder those daring to put their arms out for a needle. Which was worrying, especially for friends and relations having succumbed to the constant publicity from our NHS. The speaker then warned my police pals, who by now were wearing masks, that their job was to investigate the alleged criminal conspiracy of local authorities, like Gateshead, not stand about filming us. As we proceeded along to Exhibition Park, the line swept around the lake, making a great segment for a film. Of course, I suggested to my police pal with the movie camera that he might upload it to YouTube later, which amused both of them and was amusing to me too. On we went, mostly off road, chatting to various resisters and why they decided enough was enough, and when. Organisers urged the rabble to keep together so the police crossing patrol couldn't observe the little red man on the lights, and could help all of us across the busy road in one go, buses or no buses waiting for the rabble to cross. Nice work!
Along the pedestrianised precinct leading to Monument, shoppers were entertained in the Sun as the rabble shouted slogans and handed round propaganda to subvert more Geordies and other sorts of people. At the Monument more speeches were spoken to energise the resisters and then the leaders led some off to find their cars, while this resister found a number 62 bus and sat upstairs brazenly unmasked to enjoy the ride to Chillingham Road and a walk along Simonside Terrace, where he lived 30 years ago. Daisy was waiting patiently in the car park, and we left the city quickly, passing the route of Hadrian's Wall, rather more quickly than a few days ago, due to Daisy's absence in Stanhope, while I was walking further West for a few days.
What an exciting life, full of adventure, for an old blogger, long retired from the problem of working.
Today it's Shakespeare outdoors, with showers forecast.
Next week? Who knows? Let's see!
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