Heh, just woke up from an amusing dream. I dreamt that a gypsy woman was trying to sell me domain names. Glen was there too, and when her selling tactic didn’t work on him, she tried to get me to buy some. I kept replying with “No, not listening”, things link that telling her that I wasn’t interested. She tried to hold my hand, I told her to leave me alone, and that it was assault. I even went to one of the government websites to look up the laws of assault.

Eventually, she said that she was the worst person I’d met. In the end, I challenged her to a game of I Spy, while Glen stared out of the window and began counting a jar full of loose change.

Just before I woke up, I dreamt I’d left the house just in time to see her turquoise Volvo be towed away.

That’s it, I’m officially weird.

In other news, the demolition of Steetley Magenesite is resuming. The large oil container that has remained on the site is about to be pulled down. This means that there’s very little left remaining on the site still standing. Thanks to a series of amazing coincidences, I was able to take a trip around there.

It started off yesterday, as a Flickr user posted to my Steetley group stating that work had recommenced on the site.

The following day was a lovely summers day. The sun eventually managed to break through the clouds, and I was itching to go for a walk. I haven’t done any of my stupidly long walks for a while, as I’d lost the headset for my phone, but seeing as it turned up in the washer a few days ago, I decided to go on one.

A stiff breeze was blowing, which made visibility excellent, therefore I decided to head down to the Headland and collect a few more photos.

While I was taking this photo, a car pulled alongside me. By sheer coincidence, it was Phil! You may remember him being mentioned on the trip to Rievaulx Abbey last year.

He was down the headland too, dropping someone off. We both went our separate ways, and I carried on walking. Just as I headed onto Durham Street to take a stunningly interesting photo of my doctors’ surgery, Phil pulled alongside me again…

“I’ve got my camera with me, fancy going up to Steetley?”

Wild horses wouldn’t have stopped me. Despite the amount I talk about the place, I’ve never actually been up there and had a really good look round. Most of the photos I have of the place are actually from Chris, and not me. Also, seeing as they were pulling more of it down, it was probably one of my last opportunities to get up there.

The first thing clearly visible were the large chunks missing from the oil drum…

We then explored the site in detail, taking photos of the desolation and decay left behind. I found it highly amusing to see some of the stuff left behind in there, including parts of an old Dell 316SX

The specs of this machine make interesting reading. It dates from 1991ish.

I took pleasre in photographing all of the old, smashed up concrete streetlight columns that would have once illuminated the roadway through the complex.

It was at that point we headed back to the car. Phil dropped me off at home, and I began the process of uploading all of the photos I’ve yet to see his photos, but they’ll probably be better than mine!

Technorati Tags: dream, flickr, hartlepool, headland, Photos, steetley, walk

I don’t suppose you read the site anymore, but I thought I’d just wish you happy 25th birthday here, just in case!

For the rest of you, hello! I’ve been on another one of my silly walks again. Yes, I’m quite aware that all I seem to be blogging about these days are these walks I often do, but to be quite honest, it’s the only thing that’s keeping my mind occupied. I’m pretty much obsessed with taking photograps at the minute. This was why I was out, at 4AM, taking photos.

I have always wanted to lay down in the middle of Easington Road. I had a thought when I was about 6, if it was possible to lay down in this particular dual carriageway and not get ran over.

The other morning, I proved it could be done.

No, I didn’t just run out of the house to take that photo, I decided that I wanted to see the sunrise again. There is no better place to view most of Hartlepool than on the Hart Bypass.

I walked through the new estate, through the land which is currently unoccupied by nothing except a footpath. There was something which caught my eye. Excuse me if I drip into “rather odd reminiscing” mode for a few moments.

Back when I was a small child, there was a weed that used to grow in the cracks of the tarmac. It was a spiny, horrible looking thing with dark yellow flowers. Now, I have always had a sense of smell which was much better than any other sense I had. I always remember this particular weed had a strong scent of pineapple, therefore it was particularly interesting to me. Chad Phillips, who you may recall, is currently on a world tour (assuming you read the comments) used to mock me for such an interest, expecially when it caused a neighbour (and ultimately my mother) to almost have a fit when the neighbour saw me smelling clover flowers which had recently been sprayed with weedkiller. Er, anyway, I digress…

Yes, anyway, those pineapple-scented weeds. They seemed to disappear at some point during my adolecense. I was growing up, and didn’t really pay attention to the disappearance of a simple weed. It was about 5 years ago, however, I had a dream about said plant, and suddenly realised, it had TOTALLY disappared.

For five years, I’d tried to locate at least a small sample of it. I remember it grew in the shittest soil known to man.

Imagine my delight when, at 4:17 that very morning, I’d located some…

At this point, I still knew nothing about it. I loaded the photo up to flickr, and within 2 days, I had an answer. Its name is… wait for it… Pineapple weed.

What’s just struck me as odd, is my lack of internet searching regarding this. I knew two things about it… it was a weed, and it smelled of pineapple. a quick google reveals everything I needed to know about it. Bah.

Er, anyway. I’ll leave the horticulture to one side, and continue my walk.

It was, as you can imagine for 4AM in the morning, very uneventful. I had my headset on, and after deleting every trace of Jive Bunny off my phone, it turned out to be a pleasant walk.

I took this photo next…

After the walk up to the Hart Bypass, I thought I’d relax for a few minutes, and a row of handily-placed hay bails made a very comfortable sofa.

The music at this point, was once again, “Angel” by The Quest Project. I’m struggling to think of a better song to watch the sun rise with.

Unfortunately, after the song finished this was pretty much the end of the sunrise. The sun drifted behind those clouds, and that was it. Of course, by this point, I was exactly half way between my current location and home, therefore I completed the journey via the rest of the Hart Bypass.

The photos kept coming, however.

This one of a nettle got me thinking… is there any purpose to this sodding plant / weed / whatever? It’s whole design is to hurt and cause discomfort. It is clearly the chav of the hedgerow.

I did film myself getting stung by said nettle. It must have been at least 10 years since I last felt the sting of a nettle. Therefore, I grabbed my camera, and filmed my hand going through said weed.

Turns out, it didn’t hurt at all, except for a mild irritation, and a very slight itch later on. Maybe years of washing up protects your hands from organic enemies. The video turned out totally uninteresting,by the way, so you’ll never get to see it.

I continued my journey home, occasionally stopping off to take photos…

I liked this image, though one of the next ones made the trip for me…

I adore pointless, meaningless, and yes, slightly mischievous graffiti, in the same way I can’t go past a statue with a traffic cone on its head without smiling. I don’t like tagging, and I don’t really like the trend of “stencil” graffiti, unless it’s really clever and well done.

Eventually, I returned home after the 5-mile walk, only to find that Sam had “marked his territory” up the bloody sofa. Not his fault, however, as Senta has been in heat..

Technorati Tags: flickr, foal, hartlepool, horse, nettle, photograph, road, signpost, sunderland, sunrise, walk

I don’t normally blog about adding individual items to my collection, but this time I find it necessary, as I now have a UK promo copy of “Downtown” in my possession. Wooo!

I’ve been collecting as many different versions of this song, and I think now I’m coming to the end of my search…

This one has the catalogue number of AMY 476, the same as the released version, but the label is different. As with most promos, instead of being printed on the company standard labels, it’s printed on a plain white logo, with black text…

The tracklisting, however is exactly the same. The A side is the Adam Moseley mix, and the B side is the instrumental version, coupled with “Welcome To My City”, the only original track released by them which isn’t on the album “Mirror”. It’s a pretty weak track if I’m honest.

The best thing about it is the misprinted label on the cover itself…

One Two Many, eh? Wrong.

Cor. It seems that all I’m talking about in here is records, plus my long walks, complete with taking hundreds of photos of said pointless journey. This post is no exception, as I shall now blabber on about the walk I took the other night.

It had been a beautiful late-spring day. It started off with a trip tyo the flea market. As usual, I spent far too much on records, but I did pick up a Billy Joel double CD for 50p. 36 tracks. That’s less than a penny a song! I’d also received a parcel of 30+ LPs from ebay earlier in the morning. That means, throughout the day I’d been collecting a lot of music. In fact, my purchases for the week looked something like this…

I’d got back from the flea market, itching for stuff to do while the weather was nice. The answer came in the form of record cleaning. Not the ones I’d just received, but some of the ones I’d been given a couple of weeks ago. I wasn’t in a blogging mood when they arrived, so I don’t think I mentioned their arrival.

Anyway, most of the day was spent in the back garden, sploding big gloops of lemon washing up liquid on them, and gasping in awe as 50 years of dust, grime and nicotine were lifted off. It also allowed me to sort the really damaged ones (they weren’t in good nick) from the ones just about playable.

I tried to stay in and watch the telly. I just couldn’t do it. It was at that point I decided that I was going to make use of this weather, and go out to Hart Village and photograph the sunset.

It was a walk that would consist of 114 photos, 5.41 miles, and another visit to Sainsbury’s.

I tried to time it nicely so I wasn’t waiting too long for the sun to go down. Therefore, I set off at about 7:30 I decided to go the long way round, through the new estate and along the Hart Road. Basically, the reverse of the journey I took the other week.

It gave me the chance to photograph the construction of the carehome which is STILL being built. It must have been at least 18 months now…

After a power-walk (or rather, it looked like I was having a strop), I made it out of the estate, and continued along the Hart road…

At this point, somebody ran past me. It was either Coatesy, or someone who looks the exact spitting image of him.Nothing was said, it either wasn’t him, or he’s forgotten what I look like. After all, it’s been nearly six months since the last contact with him. I also noticed he’s deleted me from his MSN Messenger list.

Anyway, I arrived at Hart Village, and the sun was just reaching the point where it was starting to get low enough to make everything look orange.

After a road called “Nine Acres”, the footpath ends. After all, there are no more houses. This didn’t stop me, however, and I kept walking for another few hundred yards when I came to an opening in the hedgerow, leading to a field.

By this point, I was steaming, literally. The power-strop and the full walk uphill caused me to have the appearance of a racehorse after a particularly gruelling steeplechase. I decided to have a sit down in this field for a bit to recover, cool down, and watch the sun going down.

Er, that was the field. It;’s quite interesting the fact that I’ve managed to type all of this about going to see the sunset, yet I’ve not actually managed to post one image of it yet…

There, that’s better. Now, I was listening to music this entire journey. You’d think I’d be listening to something “sunsetty” at this point. You know, something chilled out. Something mood-setting. Mike oldfield, maybe? Enya? Both good choices, and both artists I had on my MP3 player at the time.

Ladies and gentlemen, I was listening to Jive Bunny. I found this rather amusing, and a reflection of my awful (to everyone else) taste in music.

Eventually, the sun disappeared behind the cloud in the above picture, and there was no more to see. I began to walk home. The sunset pictures kept disappearing, and although the sun was no longer visible, the sky was still dramatic enough to allow for possibly my favourite photo of the evening.

There were still photo opportunities to be had despite the fact that the sun had long gone. Something Hartlepool (or rather, Hart) is famous for, is its disused windmill, and the wind turbine near it. I noticed two runners on the path behind me. For a bit of an experiment, I wanted to see if they’d say anything to me if I obviously stopped off to take a photo. The result was this…

The female runner was passing me just as I turned around to rejoin the path. She looked at me as if I was mad. I just smiled and nodded politely. After all, I have something to show for it. And what do YOU have, missus? Aching muscles and worn out trainers. I win that one. The walk home was slightly diverted by a visit to Sainsbury’s, where I picked up a kitkat, carton of orange juice, packet of own-brand chicken curry noodles, and a jumbo sausage roll. Bugger, the amount of calories I’d burned off on this walk were about to be instantly put back on.

Saying that, I haven’t eaten the noodles yet and have only partially drank the orange juice.

Technorati Tags: flickr, hart village, hartlepool, Music, one 2 many, orange, photographs, record, sainsburys, springtime, sunset, walk

Following on from my awesomely long walk on Sunday, I thought I would add to it with another marathon walk to Crimdon, along with a bit of a detour to Northgate…

I got in from work at my usual time, pretty much ready for bed, but I thought I’d stay up as it felt a bit of a waste going straight to bed when I got in. After all, I’d just witnessed the dizzying excitement of watching two squirrels having a fight in the car park.

I thought I’d work on my music database for a bit, and also start getting my CD collection catalogued in some kind of orderly fashion. You might remember I started this here , but it’s a bit haphazard now, and also a little out of date.

During this time, Chris rang me on the house phone, but I didn’t hear it. Daddykins answered. he thought I was asleep, so didn’t inform me of this until half an hour later.

I rang him back, and he asked… “So, are we doing something today, then”?

BALLS! It had, for once, totally slipped my mind that I’d arranged to do something on this day. I guess the thoughts I’d had about work had overtaken it. Well, seeing as I wasn’t doing anything important, and the weather was stunning, I thought it was a great idea.

Chris said “Give me an hour, as I’ve got stuff to do.”

My reply… “Oh, tell you what then, I’ll make my way down yours, I’ll have a walk about and take some photos with my camera, or something. Give me a ring on my mobile when you’re ready, and I’ll make my way over”. This was at about 10:30.

At approximately 11, I set off, and made my way to Chris’s. There was no phone call, so I assumed he was still busy.

By 12PM (or, if you want to be anal about it, 11:57AM), I was on the beach, taking photos. I’d never seen the tide out so far, and the beach was completely deserted.

It made for some awesome photos.

It started getting on, and I was getting peckish. I walked along to Northgate shops, and got a bag of chips. The woman behind the counter seemed vaguely familiar, as if she’d served me before somewhere. No sooner had I collected my pommes frites, my phone rang. It was Chris, but he was calling from my dad’s mobile. WHAT?

Yes, he had totally misunderstood what I’d said. I was now in Northgate, he was in my house. This was the oddest of situations. We both set off from our destinations, and arranged to meet in the middle.

Somehow, this worked. Neither of us got lost. Neither of us fell down a manhole cover. Neither of us got abducted by aliens. The next step was deciding to do for the day. Neither of us had a great deal of money, and I didn’t really fancy a long journey.

Hart was the first suggestion. It’s a nice long walk, and there’s ample opportunities for photography there, despite it only being a small village. We began walking that way along West View Road, and eventually got sidetracked by the gaping mouth of The Brus Tunnel, which measures in at approximately 75m 45cm in length. It leads into the Steetley site, and also to the large beach, leading all the way to Crimdon.

As we were making our way through the Steetley complex, some old guy asked us questions about it. Awesome! I think this was the first time in my entire life I’ve been approached by a stranger, been able to give an accurate description of the location AND give him directions of where he wanted to be. He described it as an eyesore.

This is the view he was referring to…

I didn’t really agree. I’ve always been able to admire the gritty industrial charm of the place, and will be sorry to see it all go, if that ever happens.

The walk along the beach consisted of general nonsense, mainly me throwing stones into the sea, and trying to pick the best “skimmy stone”, or whatever they’re called, in order to get the most amount of hops across the water. It also granted some photo opportunities.

Can’t really see me? Good.

Eventually, we reached Crimdon, after avoiding the little tern nest site which has been setup on the beach. Apparently, each year they return here from West Africa to nest on the sandy Crimdon beach… idiots. From West Africa To Hartlepool… now that must be one hell of a disappointing journey! Saying that, there were a lot of them about, which I can only guess it’s a good thing. And no, I didn’t get close enough to get a photo.

So, onto Crimdon, then. My original trip in February made it look an awful place. Desolate, cold, full of molehills. Thankfully, this has all changed with the onslaught of the beautiful spring weather, and I was able to appreciate the views…

OK, I promise there will be no more terrible photos of me.

In the early afternoon spring sunshine, the Crimdon Viaduct just looks absolutely amazing, and I can’t resist posting a photo…

After that, I had to walk up the worst bank in the world, the one leading from Crimdon Dene to the road. It’s a nightmare. OK, for anyone who is in the least bit fit, there’d be nothing to it at all, but for me, it felt like I was climbing Everest. Not good.

There was then the short and trifling matter of walking home. Well, I say short and trifling, it’s not exactly far, but after spending three hours walking, these extra few thousand yards seemed like an eternity. I did make a new friend, however…

I think I’ll name him Gilbert.

On the way home, we popped into King Oswy shops, in order to pick up much needed fluids. Thanks to the sun and the length of the walk, we were both parched. We also went to the bakers. I picked up two sausage rolls and Chris got a steak bake, or at least the “Three Cooks” equivalent.

We both returned to Mercuryvapour Towers, munching on our respective snacks. Chris left shortly after, as he had “things” to attend to, and after 22 hours awake, I went to bed for a much needed sleep.

Unfortunately, I have awoken completely and utterly sunburned. My arms are red, my face makes me look like Dr Zoidberg from Futurama, and my neck feels like it’s been whipped with a flaming rope.

The full set of 93 photos is er… located at that underlined section.

Technorati Tags: beach, crimdon, donkey, hartlepool, ouch, sand, sea, spring, sunburned, walk, water

Author: Andy The Iridium Fan
Comment: Sadly today (Tuesday 20th May 2008) I have been told this is the end of Jacksons Landing. When it has been bourght it is going to be demolished, and flats built on the site- SHIT because I go there every day and will be very sad to see it go!!!!!!!!!!!. 18.4.08

So, there you have it. Looks as if Jackson’s Landing’s going the journey. More news on this story later

EDIT: In another spate of crazy demolition, The Shakespeare pub on Catcote Road, has also been demolished… I don’t have any updated photos as of yet, thpugh I might try and get some tomorrow, as long as I don’t fall asleep.

Technorati Tags: catcote road, demolition, hartlepool, jacksons landing, shakespeare