Sunday, 15 July 2018

Vera territory - Whitley Bay and the Spanish City

Vera Stanhope, the portly middle-aged Northumbrian Detective Inspector, hit the ITV screens back in 2011, and there has been a fresh batch of Vera episodes annually since then, with more to come for 2019. Until last September, I'd never watched any of them, nor read the original books written by Ann Cleeves. But I saw that lady give a talk at the Appledore Book Festival, and I eventually followed it up by buying the 'Vera' books one by one.

I presently have six of them. But I gave priority to buying and reading the seven 'Shetland' books that feature another Ann Cleeves creation, Detective Inspector Jimmy Perez. There came a point when I was reading about Jimmy and Vera alternately. Both detectives improved with knowing, but it was much easier to identify with Vera Stanhope. Well, she was a woman, a bit overweight, had had (like me) an unconventional childhood, and now, in middle age, was very comfortable with her own company. Of course I warmed to her. In the books she's sloppier, and less physically attractive, than the TV version so well-played by actress Brenda Blethyn. But they have merged in my mind, and that's a good thing, because then there is little or no conflict between my mental image of her from reading the books, and the one I have from seeing the TV series.

The visual demands and limitations of TV have however changed the plots and personnel in the books somewhat, though not enough to be concerning. Speaking for myself, I quite like the TV line-up at the police station: they are interesting and as characterful as the people in the books.

One thing the books and the TV series both share is the pervading presence of the Northumbrian coast and countryside, with bits of Tyneside thrown in too. When I finally began to watch Vera on catch-up TV there was many a spot that I recognised - I have been visiting (or passing through) Northumberland since 2002, my first holiday there being in 2006.

Whitley Bay was one of those locations. I had a good look at it (for the first time) last year, as described in my post A day trip to Newcastle 2 on 8th August 2017. But this was before I saw Ann Cleeves at Appledore on 23rd September, and I did not come to Whitley Bay with any special insight, and definitely didn't see it with the eyes of the TV Vera: more than one episode shows scenes of Whitley Bay.

In 2018 I wanted to go back - I was at the Club site at Hartley, just up the coast a bit - and explore the place afresh. I especially wanted to see the Spanish City. In its heyday this had been a grandiose entertainment complex, with a ballroom and funfair rides. Inevitably it had acquired a reputation, as indeed did all of Whitley Bay: it was a magnet for the same kind of loose-living people that Brighton drew in between the wars and after. The place became run-down and tatty. The rides became just a memory.

But now the Spanish City is being completely modernised. Whitley Bay, so long just the destination of choice for sleazy hen and stag parties, is reinventing itself and going somewhat upmarket. I doubt if all the tackiness will disappear, but the face-lift I saw being given to the promenade last year seemed to promise much. Let's see how it turned out.

So. I had just arrived from Barnard Castle, and after my evening meal in the caravan, I drove the two miles into Whitley Bay and parked easily. (In that respect, Whitley Bay is vastly different from Brighton, which hates the motorist) Sunset was coming on. I had perhaps an hour. The big white dome of the Spanish City was my number one objective.


They were still refurbishing it, and a security wall hid much of the ground-level view, although there were small windows to peep through...


...and in places you could get a half-decent ground-level view.


The magnificent white dome and statue-topped towers looked fabulous in the golden light.


Information panels adorned the security wall. It was possible to get a good idea of what the Spanish City had been like in its wildly popular earlier days, before seediness and decay set in. 


Other panels gave impressions of what was planned in the modern renovation.


Lucky Whitley Bay, I say. The rest of the seafront was getting a makeover too.


It was time to leave the Spanish City and explore elsewhere. The sun was going down fast!


Some Vera beach scenes here, to be sure. In the far distance, St Mary's Island and its famous lighthouse - the subject of my next post. And sand all the way.

Some new promenade features caught my eye. Among them, giant metal sandcastles.


They were really shelters from the breeze, while you ate your fish and chips. New seating commemorated the best-known rides.


It was all very smart. Did I have time to walk a stretch of lower promenade in the Cullercoats direction? I decided that I did.


I passed a scene of lovers, dressed as if they had just been to posh do of some kind. They were completely wrapped up in each other, and didn't notice me. The takeaway the young man held seemed incongruous, a nuisance. Put it down, and hold her properly!


Further along, I came to a clock that had looked pretty battered last year. Now it had had a repaint.


I walked back along the road, past cafés and restaurants. No, old-style Whitley Bay wasn't going to fade away. On one corner, a new fish and chip shop was going to open...


Only a little further along, Hinnies ('Geordie Comfort Food'). It was packed with a smart-looking crowd, even though it was a Wednesday night. I decided I would book a meal there (but never did go, as will be explained in a post to come).


Amusement arcades, of course. And ice-cream parlours. Both looked well-maintained though. Perhaps the local council insisted, to ensure that no tattiness spoiled the general impression of a family resort on the up again. 


Vera enthusiasts will recognise the last two scenes!


I'm a devotee of British seaside resorts large and small. I thought Whitley Bay was a great place to go. Plenty of entertainment and places to eat; a smart promenade; the Spanish City; and those sands. 

There was still some light left. The sun was very low now, but not yet gone. Fiona got me to St Mary's Island just in time - next post.

Friday, 13 July 2018

Kynren

I was driving through Bishop Auckland, and noticed that there were banners everywhere, drawing your attention to something called Kynren.  'Bishop Auckland Welcomes Kynren Visitors'. Was this the name of a sporting team? No, it wasn't the right sort of name. And the banners suggested something else.


I got hold of a leaflet and all was clear. This was a historical re-enactment spectacular, with the emphasis on thrilling visual effects in rapid succession, as an entertainment. Plus fireworks. With families as the target audience.

Not my cup of tea at all! But plenty of people might like to see this, and I wasn't inclined to pooh-pooh Kynren as a costume pastiche. It looked well-produced, a lively evening history show for a family audience. Indeed, I'm now giving the organisers free advertising by writing a post about the Kynren events scheduled for 2018. For there are a series of shows during the summer months.

Here's the leaflet.


And here's a few screenshots of the two Kynren websites - the organisers' (https://elevenarches.org/) and the website for making bookings (https://www.kynren.com/).


As I said, not my thing, but I admit it looks spectacular. So what's coming up? What's my point?

A familiar mantra on this blog, that's what. Look at the horrendous prices! I goggled at those listed on the leaflet...


The website gave a lot more information. Or persuasive hard sell, if you prefer. (Click on these shots for the detail)


As you can see, the seats with the least good view are the Bronze seats, and if you want better, you have an escalating choice of Silver, Gold, Platinum and Diamond seats at correspondingly escalating prices. The website says that Diamond ticket holders get 'VIP' treatment, with a fast entry procedure and a shuttle bus to take them to the event (which suggests that even Gold ticket holders have to leave their cars far away, and face a weary trudge to their seats). As for the actual prices, the leaflet highlights what it considers to be a 'great' deal. Just £75 for a family of four, based on 2 adults and 2 children in Bronze (children under 3 go free, sat on lap). But that's for the worst seats. If you want the best, the Diamond seats, Mum and Dad need to blow £202 for 2 adults and 2 kids. 

Good grief.

I suppose the show might be so good that £202 would seem money well spent. And of course one can spend a lot more than this to see certain popular rock bands and singing artistes. Or to go to the opera.  Or to watch England play a losing game in the World Cup. But all such prices are way too much for me. 

Am I just a flint-hearted meanie? A crabby old miser? Quite possibly! But I don't think it's a good use of limited cash resources to pay prices like this. What are you getting for the money? Nothing tangible. It's like an expensive meal. Next day, it's only a memory. And there's a big hole in your monthly budget that you might come to regret. I'm also concerned about encouraging North-East families on 'austerity' incomes to spend extravagantly, although I accept the notion that in austere times it may lift the spirit to see an amazing show, despite the expense.    

I have spoken. Now ignore me, and buy your tickets.