Ah, the northeast of England. Undeniably the most beautiful place on Earth. Full of simply gorgeous vistas. And where I happen to live. Sort of. On the south border between it and North Yorkshire. Lovely area. Lovely people. Proud history. Where the first public railway ran. Were large chunks of Hadrian’s Wall are still standing. Where the match was invented by accident and not patented. And the home of the best coastal towns on Earth. You can get lovely ice creams in them. Rather creamy. Mmm…
I’m immediately ruling out the Swing Bridge. It’s in a town I’m not very fond of. And they’re not very fond of my town, either. So screw ‘em. I’m not picking their bloody bridge. Bloody nuisances. Bloody stupid thing. It just rotates. Ooh. Magical. Pathetic. It’s not even much of a bridge. My left toe is more interesting. I can’t pick Durham Cathedral because I’ve always ruled out buildings of religious connections so it doesn’t seem like favouritism or anti-religious to other religions. It is pretty though. Worth a visit. Vindolanda. A ruin of a Roman fort. Well, it’s ruined, so what’s the point in choosing it? I have no interest in a ruined structure or indeed history. And I can hardly pick either Richmond Castle or Belsay Castle. TWO! ON ONE LIST! NOT A-BLOODY-GAIN! EVERY BLEEDIN’ TIME! TWO! I’m not having that. It’s ridiculous. Long Meg and Her Daughters. It’s a series of stones. Not particularly impressive stones. Although they are arranged in a circle, so it must be something weird. Folklore dictates that it was used by witches and is why it’s named after a local witch. How do we know it was used by witches? The land may have once been a small island before it merged with other small islands to form the UK. It might have been a very small island. A desert island. Somebody was stranded and made an SOS out of rocks but only the O survives. I’d believe that over witches any day of the week. Oh, and it’s not in the North East. It’s in the North West. Methinks they ran out of wonders for the North East…
So I’ll go for a bridge over the river… Tweed. Yes. We have a River Tweed in England. Great name for a river. The bridge in question is the Royal Border Bridge, and yes, like with Miss Meg, it’s not actually on the border. Three miles south of Scotland. It’s a wonderful bridge. Beautiful, simple and elegant. Put together with stunning precision, a solid structure of supreme grace, standing proud in one of the most beautiful locations on Earth.
The Royal Border Bridge. My favourite man-made wonder of North East England.
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The Indelible Life of Me
Hark Around The Words