Quite a few years ago I had a week up in Sunderland to stay with my sister.<\/p>\n
Love train journeys so I enjoyed the 4-hour train journey…King X to Newcastle and Metro to Sunderland where I was met at the station by my sister and her son no 2. It was lovely to catch up and discover Sunderland. As I got out of the train on Newcastle station I could feel a long-drawn sob catch in my throat and the words “I’m home” cross my mind.<\/p>\n
To be near the sea….the North Sea…..the “proper sea” as I called it was wonderful…..being able to smell the sea.<\/p>\n
One afternoon sticks in my mind was going to the village that I was born in and my sister has memories of. My brother in law dropped us off in the village\/hamlet and we planned to catch the bus back two hours later.<\/p>\n
We got out of the car in the middle of the village and me and my sister looked at each other…it felt strange as if our mum was with us…..either our mum or our grandad we felt there was someone else with us. We decided to walk up the village past where Grandad used to live… looked very different and strange as there was a sort of an accumulation of bungalows\/houses. We walked as far as the school….my sister tells me we went as far as the cemetery where grandad is buried….but I cannot remember that so I cannot comment.<\/p>\n
As we went back past the school we discover a way to get into the “back lane”… a long lane that ran the length of the buildings. As we stepped into the lane it was like stepping back in time.<\/p>\n
We decided to double back to where we knew that Grandads back garden was and the garden was still there but being used as a paddock even with horses. I remember (I think) my sister patting a head that was wall height…then the horse stood up…..that was funny.<\/p>\n
We then continued down the lane….the smells….the sounds they were the same. I used to dream I was in granddads garden and used to go to the bottom to look upon rows and rows of houses and it was wonderful to see it was the same…even down to a tractor trundling across the field(except that the tractor driver was different) of course.<\/p>\n
In my memories, I can only go as far as the old air-raid shelter but my sister remembers a little bit further where a little bridge crossed into another field where I think she remembers a bull lived…I don’t but I am older so I guess old age has made me forget that bit.<\/p>\n
Back into the main part of the village, we walked past the church I was christened in. There were 6 of us children and I was the only one christened.<\/p>\n
We then discovered that we have missed the bus and had to wait a while for another one. So a bit more exploring. The shop had been made into a home for someone….but the pub was still there. The Plough which was grandad’s local……so in we went……my sister has a better memory than me so she will know if we had a drink or not. Probably did as I cannot ever remember going into a pub and not getting a drink.<\/p>\n
There was an old chap who was sat the to corner and we said that I had been born in the village and who my grandad was and he remembered him and pointed out that on the wall around the corner was a photo of the village football team. I cannot remember the year but they’re in the photo who we recognised straight away was grandad. The barman even said if the landlord had been in he might have offered the photo tome…but I feel I would not have taken it as it was part of that pub.<\/p>\n
We had to run for the bus that took us only to a place called Trimdon where we caught another bus to Peterlee where sisters hubby picked us up.<\/p>\n
A lovely day with lovely memories.<\/p>\n
Thank you for reading.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Quite a few years ago I had a week up in Sunderland to stay with my sister. Love train journeys so I enjoyed the 4-hour train journey…King X to Newcastle and Metro to Sunderland where I was met at the station by my sister and her son no 2. It was lovely to catch up […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":68,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_exactmetrics_skip_tracking":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_active":false,"_exactmetrics_sitenote_note":"","_exactmetrics_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[3,4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-125","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-family","category-memories"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/carolwake.me.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/125","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/carolwake.me.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/carolwake.me.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/carolwake.me.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/carolwake.me.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=125"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/carolwake.me.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/125\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":381,"href":"https:\/\/carolwake.me.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/125\/revisions\/381"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/carolwake.me.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/68"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/carolwake.me.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=125"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/carolwake.me.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=125"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/carolwake.me.uk\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=125"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}