Today was another day of exploration as we wandered in circles in the medieval street plan of Newcastle, dodged cowpats in the town moor (where every freeman or his widow may pasture two milk cows - even to this day!), and observed the local street life, mostly composed of hordes of teenaged punks drinking from bottles in the town square. It felt like a weird combination of the Grove in Boise and a play I worked on at Cornish, set in a depressed coal mining town in the both of England. The accent here is certianly what we were aiming for then, and I'm sure I've recognized a few of the characters. We found the old town wall and two old churches, the university, and a 13th century abbey, now a fancy restaurant. We had dinner and a pint at our host Simon's three-story pub-cum-dance club. Now we wait for the late bus to Ponteland. We miss the convenience of the Tube, even as we love the beauty of the country. We still hold out hope of spotting a hedgehog.
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