Arch 2 in Ouseburn has a great approach to dogs. They’re very welcome and even have their pictures taken to add to a dog wall. Now, this didn’t work very well in Harriet’s case, since she doesn’t show up very well in any picture taken in a dark bar (three pictures and pretty much invisible). But the idea’s great.
The Cluny seem to have adopted the same idea. This evening, the dog is not only visible-ish, she’s posing in the background.
After meeting a bunch of nice people one night at Northern Kin festival, we promised we’d try out the buskers’ night at the Gin and Ale House (previously, the Albion) in Jarrow.
We’d stopped off at the pub a couple of times in the past, but only for a quick pint in passing.
After a delay of a few weeks, we finally made time for a longer visit last night. For some reason, we decided to walk. With a walk of almost two hours, we stopped off half way for a break at the Cricketers in Bill Quay.
That meant that we arrived a little later than intended, but it was definitely worth the walk. It was more of a traditional buskers’ night, with a more natural feel than the buskers’ nights I was accustomed to in the Schooner. We’ll be back next Thursday, although we might set off earlier.
Sadly, while we did meet up with festival acquaintances, the dog’s festival friend wasn’t there last night. Apparently she’ll be there next week though.
Last night also allowed us to test the challenge of the dog’s visibility in the dark.
£20 surcharge. For a dog that doesn’t piss indoors. I understand that dogs can be messy and I’m happy to pay a bit more to be able to take the hound with us.
But I’m sure that people leave a room in a worse mess than our dog will.
She’s had pizza (and a beer) and will now sleep for ages.
She’s cute as fuck too.
A proper pub dog deserves proper bar service.
So, we went to a festival; Northern Kin. Delayed over a year and relocated, but it was good to have some sort of normality.
While it’s a small scale festival and the line-up wasn’t exactly amazing, it was a lot better than I’d expected.
I hope they keep to the same formula next year.
The dog seemed to have a good time too.
She even made a festival friend.
On arrival at our hotel in Liverpool, we found that the van would actually scrape into our usual long stay car park. While not actually a case of scraping, the height clearance was scarily slight.
Our luck changed when we were told by our pet friendly hotel that the establishment was no longer pet friendly. This was something of a surprise, since our reservation, which included the dog, had been accepted the previous week.
Fortunately, on walking into the Adelphi, we were told that dogs were welcome.
We celebrated with a drink in the Head of Steam, knowing that the chain allowed dogs.
There was, however, something of a loss of productivity in both this bar and the hotel, since staff took time out to play with the dog.
Talking of the dog, she felt the need to pose with landmarks.
We ate at Down the Hatch, a really good veggie/vegan cafe, which also – yes – welcomes dogs.
Followed by a good night’s sleep
(another micropub might have been involved too).
The following morning, we breakfasted (the dog had eggs), then set off for Keswick. we stopped off at Lancaster to stretch our legs and take refreshments.
We stayed at Castlerigg, on a site close to where I’d stayed with my youngest child 21 years ago.
We were soon joined by another T2, a year younger than ours.
We only spent a couple of days in Keswick; we regretted not staying longer.
The dog seemed to have a good time.
Enjoying cake at the Theatre by the Lake.
She also discovered a gem of a micropub, the Crafty Baa.
It was also good to see that a once really terrible little bar had become an excellent veggie/vegan bar/restaurant/hotel.
Although the decor hadn’t changed in two decades (the other room was busy).
And, this morning, we returned home. in a roundabout sort of way.
Over the last couple of weeks, the van covered over 800 miles without a single problem. That was something of a surprise.
Me and the dog had a walk around Finchale Abbey this morning in the sunshine.
I used to spend a lot of time there as a kid; it’s hardly changed.
That last picture of the entrance to a staircase has changed, though. The gate must have been added for safety reasons – I first climbed those steps with my Dad, I couldn’t have been older than five.
I last climbed it with my kids when they were very young.
I was briefly excited at the prospect of attending this year’s Glastonbury Extravaganza. It seemed the ideal way to get a tiny bit of the festival experience in a (second) year without the festival itself.
But dogs aren’t allowed.
My disappointment dissipated quickly when I read that camping will be possible on the site this summer.
And then returned when I learned that Campervans won’t be allowed. Well, not allowed for camping. My hopes were once more built up with the possibility of renting a pre-erected tent, leaving the van in the car park.
But, yes, you guessed it. Dogs aren’t allowed. Pah.
I had a random conversation with an old guy a couple of days ago. This began in a lift at Washington bus station.
The dog was looking particularly cute, so attracted his attention. This led to dog related dialogue.
Which continued after we left the lift. He told me that his father lost a much loved dog around 100 years ago. With Council permission, he mounted a plaque on a tree to commemorate the dog’s life.
The tree’s somewhere in Kent; the plaque’s still there.
I like things like that.
We took the dog to the beach today.
