June 15, 2022
Whitley Bay to Lincoln
trip aborted
Well, my leg is no better and carrying my bags down the stairs is slow and painful- one step at a time.
Gathered around the front desk are six, roughly twenty-year-old women and I ask if they're from China and one affirms my guess and tells me they're all studying at Leeds University. I ask about their IELTS scores - a test they'd have taken back home to be able to attend a UK university - and they all did well. Their speaking is certainly fluent and when they hear me say that I teach IELTS in Taiwan, they want to now about my Chinese language skills and laugh when I say 'I want a beer' in Mandarin, followed by 'another bottle'. That's about it, except for 'hangover'..
What to do? That's the question Dave and I ask each other. It seems unlikely my leg is going to heal itself any time soon, so we decide to have a look around and see the sea and ponder it some. There's no rush and procrastination is my forte.
It's a bit dull at first, but by the time we make it up to Whitley Bay's shopping street, the sun is out. There are a handful of charity shops to browse around and the first one has a small camera - a Lumix for just a fiver. There's no memory card, so it's not possible to test it, but as it's so cheap I take an inexpensive risk and buy it. There's no obvious damage and the women says that I can bring it back if it's broken. That won't happen.
Twenty minutes later I get a nice hat from the YMCA shop and after all this shopping we decide to cruise back to the front and get a coffee. We're on holiday, don't forget.
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The hotel clerk had spoken about Spanish City last night and we walked past it when looking for somewhere to eat. In the bright sunshine it's more apparent, with its white paintwork making us squint.
I'd imagined it was just the name of cafe or restuarant, but the huge 1910 building was originally a concert hall with a rooftop garden and dining area. It's all spick and span thanks to a fairly recent and comprehensive renovation - apparentely it was delelict 20 years ago. It must have cost a fortune to fix up.
There's a popular cafe called Valerie's Tearoom that has outside tables and lots of sweet goodies on offer in a glass-fronted cabinet inside. We grab one of the tables still vacant and take stock of our situation.
As we ponder our limited options and lap up the sun, Dave recommends calling 111, which is a number that connects people who need medical assistance to a health professional. I'm unsure, but decide to give it a try.
There's a laborious process of giving personal details before honing in on my issue. As I susected, my hamstring is damaged and the man on the end of the line (maybe he's a nurse) books me an appointment in the nearest hospital - about a 10-minute ride away - to see if someone there can help.
We drag ourselves away from the cafe and start cycling in the hospital's direction, but it's very painful to bend my knee or put any pressure on it. I'm basically riding with one leg.
As we pass near the local train station I say we should just head home, as the hospital won't be able to cure this kind of injury and common sense tells me rest is what's needed. It's a sad end to a very short trip.
The weather forecast was right, which just adds to our sense of frustraion.
The local train station has regular departures to Newcastle and it's a pretty fast journey. We get tickets and wheel our bikes aboard ater waiting 10 minutes then count down the numerous stations on what is a circular loop around the whole area.
Once off at Newcastle, we check out trains back to Lincoln and book our bikes on the first one available - early in the afternoon. That gives us some time to get lunch and we just go across the road and sit at a table outside one place that looks like it'll have decent food. Dave opts to have a beer.
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We zip back south and get off at Newark and wait for the train to LIncoln. The guard on the station eventually asks where we're heading, the n informs us the Lincoln train won't accept our bikes as it's a high-speed one and the few bike spaces have already been booked. He tells us to ride across town to the Castle station and get the 6:04 commuter train from there. Drama my leg to do without.
The five kilometres back to Dave's are flat but nevertheless it's not great. We decide to get a bike to eat in the Ferry Boat and have a pint to drown our sorrows..
Today's ride: 10 km (6 miles)
Total: 1,121 km (696 miles)
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