Durham

My trip to Durham involved a couple of changes of train. Generally not a problem in Britain. However on Thursday 14th August a 'trespass incident' occurred on the line from King's Cross Station, which was then described over the tannoy as a 'police incident' and finally a 'fatality'. BBC reported the event here. All trains into and out of King's Cross station were cancelled or indefinitely delayed. There were, in my estimation, about 2,000 passengers stranded at King's Cross Station. What interested me was the very orderly way in which everyone behaved. Because there were now so many people milling around the area before the platforms, with everyone trying to see if any trains were going, the station staff decided to put everyone in neat lines, even though they didn't know which platform they should be queuing for. I then noticed that there were differently coloured tiles on the floor, that formed very long lines that looped around the edge of the waiting area and up the connecting corridors to the tube station. High on the walls were marked the letters 'A', 'B' and so on. Passengers for the north (like me) were told to form a queue behind the letter 'A', and so on. Evidently, they had done all this before. The surprising thing to me, having spent a week in New York and being pushed and shoved by everyone who thought they had a greater right to space than me, was how polite and orderly it all was. Everyone lined up. No-one grumbled. People let other people move through. How civilised the British are. And how flexible, I thought. A group of about half a dozen young men, with haricuts that implied that they were in the Army, came into the waiting area and, seeing the massive crowd and all the trains delayed or cancelled, asked me what was going on. I told them that someone had been killed by being hit by a train and that we didn't know if or when the trains would run from King's Cross. The lads had a quick conference, talked about when they were expected back, did some sums, and unanimously voted to go to the pub instead. If Durham wasn't so important to me, I would have joined them!

I spent just two nights in Durham, and they were brilliant. I arrived on a Thursday afternoon (later than planned) and checked into Hatfield College, one of the older colleges in Britain's third-oldest university. It had carved gargoyles and stone footpaths, as well as leadlight in the chapel, but curiously it had no wi-fi. That will probably be installed next century. I was advised to try the local pub, which advertised free wi-fi, so off I trotted. I ordered a pint of beer and a beef-and-ale pie, then spent a fruitless half hour trying to persuade the laptop that I wanted to connect to the Internet. When my pie was eventually brought over I queried the lass who had suggested that I sit in a certain spot because it had the best wi-fi reception. She replied that it hardly ever worked, but if it HAD been working, I would have been sitting in the best spot for it. Sigh. It was a great pie and a decent beer. I then headed off again, wandering the 10th-century streets of Durham looking for a 21st-century Internet connection. The college porter had suggested the pub, the pub had suggested the library, the library had suggested another pub (which I couldn't actually find) and so it went on. As I was wandering down the cobblestones, enjoying the architecture and history, if not the modernity of Durham, I saw a man standing in the middle of the steet (I kid you not) holding a laptop with one hand and typing with the other. I reasoned that he must have found a wi-fi hot spot. Since the cobble-stoned street was very steep and quite slippery, my first thought was simply to push him very hard so that he would roll down the hill and into the River Wear, and I could then stand in his spot. But then I thought he might not roll all the way down the hill and might get back up and belt me, so perhaps there was another way. Maybe the one place in all of Durham that has a working wi-fi actually broadcasts to places other than the middle of the street. So then I read all the tiny signs on all the little cafes around, and sure enough, there was one with 'free wi-fi'. I bought a coffee, logged on and found that a meeting that I had hoped for, was indeed going to happen in Durham the next day. It was worth the effort to connect!

On Friday 13th August I spent most of the morning in the breathtaking Durham Cathedral. Photos are not permitted so you will have to make do with looking at the website. I was unaware that this was the burial place of the Venerable Bede (at the western end) and St Cuthbert (at the eastern end). The cathedral is a wonderful structure and for £5 you are permitted to climb the 325 steps to the top of the tower. This was quite fun for the first 100 steps, then fairly tiring for the next 100 steps, then painful for the next 100 steps, with the final 25 steps being done one-at-a-time, in agony. My legs were like jelly after climbing up and down the tower. No other tourist did it - I thought that they didn't want to spend the £5. I now realise that they were smarter than me.

The view from the top was brilliant. I will post photos as soon as I am able. The tower has four sides and when standing on the side facing the wind, it was strong enough to push me backwards. Although I was probably fairly safe from actually falling, it was not a good feeling to be pushed around when I was 66m above the ground and probably 100m above the river!

I later visited a little museum, in which I learnt more about Durham's long history, then in the afternoon I went to the Department of Anthropology at Durham University, a visit to which I had been looking forward. I met one of the examiners of my thesis and he gave me some excellent advice about my future. I plan to apply for a teaching position at Durham University and whether or not I am successful with that, I hope to cooperate with my former examiner in publishing a journal article and in applying for research grants. So I hope to be spending some time with Durham University, in one capacity or another. One can but hope.

After such a succcessful meeting I decided to head back to the little cafe with the wi-fi, since I had noticed on leaving the night before that they actually served wine and food. I asked what sort of wine they had. The reply was 'red, white or water', the latter being an alternative I have never heard. I selected the red, which turned out to be Australian, and relaxed.

On Saturday 14th August I visited Durham Castle, which also does not allow photography inside the building. I will post photos of the outside shortly. Then in the afternoon I started the long train journey south, arriving at Gatwick Airport in time to collect my beloved youngest daughter from her adventures in Spain.