I am on a train returning from Newcastle. The light bouncing
off the fields is remarkable. It’s chrome-like; pure and clean, and highly unusual
for this time of year. September fields are often shrouded in a dusty, misty
light. Maybe that’s what a rubbish summer does to light! I wonder if autumn will
come late this year? I get the feeling that the trees are rather enjoying the
first sunshine they’ve seen and are in no hurry to start shedding leaves.
We’ve been looking at early entries for the BBC 100 Faces
project today. People have been asked to write in and say – in no more than 12
words – what made 2012 significant for them, and we’ve had some wonderful
stories, ranging from the 7-year old who learned to ride her bike without stabilizers
this year, to the man in his 30s whose family was destroyed by the closure of a
mine. Each person selected will represent the year of their birth from 1912 all
the way up to 2012, so the oldest person featured will be 100, which is very cool...
if we can find someone that age who wants to take part! The oldest entry we’ve
had so far comes from an 86 year-old... so we might have to visit a few
retirement homes in the coming weeks!
It was, as ever, wonderful to be back in Newcastle; a city
which holds so many special memories for me. I lived there for a number of
weeks whilst making the Metro films and I think it’s one of Britain’s greatest
and most beautiful cities. I still get a genuine sense of excitement as the
train pulls into the station just after crossing the Tyne. The view of those extraordinary
bridges never gets old.
It was great to see the gang up there again. The set-up at BBC
Newcastle is second to none. The talent base they have there in terms of
film makers is extraordinary. Curiously, this has a lot to do with children’s
television. They made Byker Grove and Tracy Beaker in the region for many years,
so there are gaffers, best boys and dolly ops scattered all over the city and
its surrounds. It was particularly great to see cameraman Keith again. He
arrived brandishing a special Moleskine notebook especially for storyboarding, which
he presented to me as a gift. He’s gone
the colour of David Dickenson following a holiday somewhere fancy. His tan made
me look like an orthodox jew! I’m really excited about getting cracking on this
project. It’ll be nice to have something to move onto when I finally close the
doors on the Requiem after two obsessive years!
On my way up to Newcastle, I was forced to change trains at
Doncaster Station. I stood for a while in the queue at the Costa Coffee shop, and
as it got to my turn, I took out my wallet and was horrified to see a cascade
of coins dropping out onto the floor. The woman behind me in the queue; a
sprightly Yorkshire lady, made a joke: “oh dear, someone’s chucking his money
away,” she said, smiling endearingly, “must have plenty.” There was no attempt
to help me – and when I’d finally picked up the last 2 pence, I realised, she’d
used the moment to push in front of me! That’s Yorkshire grit for you!
350 years ago, Pepys spent the morning in various Navy
stores in Woolwich, Deptford and Rotherhithe (or Redriffe as it was then known),
stopping at one point to watch a rather grand boat race which tested the speed
of various vessels. He walked for miles and got himself in a sweat so treated
himself to a river taxi. The boat journey scared him, however. It was a very cold and
windy morning and the Thames was, no doubt, choppy. Pepys returned to his
lodgings to “rub himself clean.” This was in the era of the great unwashed.
Believe it or not, Pepys was actually frightened of getting himself wet;
fearing water brought illness. As a result, he never washed wit water. Totally gipping.
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