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Tom Dodds on transport matters »Getting wet in Wallsend on Saturday reminded me of the time Tyne Bridge danced at the Durham Folk Party a couple of years ago….
It was a sultry Saturday at the end of July and our final spot was on Palace Green, but the Cathedral was hosting some sort of campanology festival. Whenever we set up to dance the bells would start and we could hardly hear ourselves think, let alone the music, beat or calls. Besides which Palace Green is my least favourite dance spot in Durham. It looks picturesque, but the Cathedral authorities forbid dancing on their nice York stone pavements. So you have to dance in the road, which is a much poorer surface where you risk the ire of passing cars and tourist coaches. Nor will they let you collect so there’s not even the comfort of any financial reward. The audience up there is sparse too.
Eventually we decided to call it a day, took off our clogs and put on our shoes (oh the bliss of that after a hot day’s dancing!). As I got my shoes on the first big fat warm thundery raindrops started to plop down. We loaded ourselves up with our various bags and made our way back to the car-park.
As we left Palace Green there was a real cloudburst and the heavens opened. Lightening flashed, thunder clapped and every doorway held a sheltering morris man. There was nothing to do but carry on. Within minutes I was literally soaked to the skin (there is something peculiarly disgusting about peeling off wet tights).
Deputy Squire had the garland bag and I had the collecting bucket. We both had kit bags as well. The rain trickled through my hair and eyebrows, getting into my eyes and stinging. So I balanced the bucket (which did contain some coins) on my head to deflect the raindrops off my face, holding it there with my empty left hand.
As we went down the cobbles towards Elvet Bridge a male voice called out from one of the doorways “Aphrodite goes down to the water”*.
I thought to myself “You do get a better class of heckle in an old university town.”
*It was a long time before I realised this referred to the sculpture in the Tony Hancock film The Rebel
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