Proud to be a Sand Dancer!

Expatmum and PottyMummy have had a few goes at doing Geordie accents lately and expatmum's recent post made me laugh (which I sorely needed). It got me thinking as to what it is to be a Geordie (or a "Sand Dancer"* for that matter) and I came up with this description from this website:

Who Are Geordies?
The Geordie nickname originates from and is used to describe people from the north east of England, specifically people from the areas of North And South Tyneside, Northumberland (which includes Tynedale and Hexham) and the mainly western areas of County Durham.
The terms Geordie or Geordies probably originated from the fact that the miners in the north east coalfields used George Stephenson's safety lamps to prevent underground explosions, rather than the Davy lamp which was more commonplace. If that's true then maybe Geordies have George Stephenson to thank for not having the nickname "Davies" instead.
The term also used to encompass the people living in the north east areas of Sunderland and Middlesbrough but this has been dropped by a large proportion of the people in these areas, who now prefer to be recognised as Mackems or Smoggies respectively.

These short video clips perfectly capture the essence of the Geordie accent compared to so called "Proper English". It must be pointed out however that like any other people who talk with an accent, Geordies are very capable at speaking the "Queens" English should the occasion arise. (That last bit, which I italicised, made me giggle..as it's the sound of a Geordie getting on his/her high horse!!! )

* A person from South Shields is a Geordie or more affectionately known as a Sand Dancer. Not sure that the Wikipedia version of the meaning is correct. From what I've always understood there were a lot of Arabs** (and still are) living in South Shields. That fact combined with the location of South Shields, right on the North Eastern coast, is why we are called "Sand Dancers".

** Roman Arab reference: Arbeia (name of Roman Fort) in South Shields...Arbeia is thought to be a Latinised form of a name originally from Aramaic - the native language of the last attested unit stationed at the fort - meaning 'the Place of the Arabs'.

A big thank you to Tartetartan

A couple of days ago I was awarded this wonderful award by Tartetartan and I have to admit that I am still thinking of which 7 other blogs to nominate....(a condition of accepting this rather nice award). I'm really rather rubbish at all of this so whilst I think on I would like to make this award to:
1. Test Match Special Team because it is very English and Henry Blofeld "Blowers" is so, so, very PG Wodehouse. So here you are "you dear old thing".
2. Northumberland/Cumbria because every time I look at their lushious, verdant sceneries they are show stoppingly brilliant (even in the rain).
3. The blogging world in general because I love to rake through other people's lives, experiences, off white washing and so very nearly clean jokes.
4. The English Language because I am absolutely 100% fascinated by it.
5. Britain because it ain't the full penny without the other bits.
6. The British Sense of Humour because I wouldn't be able to get through the day without it.
7. The creator of "Wallace and Gromit", Nick Park, because that man is a genius. "Cracking good, Gromit!"
8. The British "clubs" of this world...without whom I would never have met...(ahem)...the other half.
9. The "Spanish Inquisition" scene in Monty Python......"Surprise and fear...fear and surprise.... Our two weapons are fear and surprise...and ruthless efficiency.... Our three weapons are fear, and surprise, and ruthless efficiency...and an almost fanatical devotion to the Pope.... Our four...no... " (Did I say 7 points? I meant...err 8 points, or was it 9 points...no...darn it! I didn't expect a kind of Spanish Inquisition! (Ed: didn't realise that the scene was set in Jarrow. It was where Hadriana was born. Eh! Lass..."Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! Our chief weapon is surprise!.......")

All roads lead to Rome...

We did see some sunshine this year during our Grand Tour of Europe. From North Shields we got the exceedingly nice ferry overnight over to Ijmuiden near Amsterdam in Holland. Relying on good old fashioned maps we only got slightly lost as we came out of the Ijmuiden terminal. Luckily my husband had picked up a map from the Dutch lady on the Information Desk (on the ferry). He was wondering if there was anything his wife and children could do (entertainmentwise) whilst he went to a meeting at Schipol airport and asked her what we could do. "What kind of a husband leaves his family like that?!" was her barbed retort. So he left the very helpful information desk none the wiser! Luckily that map guided us onto the right road for Schipol airport.

(We then drove to North Germany, near Bremerhaven, that same day to see some good friends.) Over the next few days, whilst it got blisteringly hot, we drove through Germany. My self taught German just about passed muster. (I hadn't realised just how polite the Germans are. For the first time in my life someone said to me "bitte wiedersehen"...which I think means..."hope to see you again"...does it mean literally..."pleased to see you again!" maybe someone can put me straight on this one and what does one say in return?)

We stopped and had cake and coffee at the wonderfully medieval town of Rothenburg ob der Tauber (see photo above). We stayed in a few places in Germany. We went through a bit of Austria. We were doing well, just replying on maps, unfortunately we got onto the motorway going North instead of heading South and seemed to go round bits of lakes in Switzerland for what seemed like an eternity. We stayed a night in the Italian Swiss city of Locarno and the noise level at night was upped 1000% as there was a rock and jazz festival taking place in the square outside our hotel. I didn't mind...it just seemed a true reflection of national characters. The Dutch, Germans, Austrians had been quiet and here in the Italian bit of Switzerland all hell had broken loose! At least it wasn't just our children being noisy for a change...

We did really well with the roads (viz. maps and map reading) and we didn't have one of those husband/wife map reading arguments until we came off the motorway in Italy. I had just wrestled with the automatic speaking toll machine and was still examining the euro change when hubbie said "Which way? Which way?" It turns out that the Italian road planners like to stick every conceivable village and hamlet known to man on road traffic signs (see below). Upon examination of the signs (all 40 of them) I declared that I hadn't got a @#**@*' clue!

So unless you are 100% sure of your destination then it is 100% pot luck...which direction you take. We spent about two hours driving around the main town of Nizza Monferrato desperately trying each sign (and direction) and we must have gone around the main square about 20 times. I kept trying to phone the place where we were staying but I think they were having their siesta! We went up hills and down valleys in search of our ultimate destination in sweltering heat. Does anyone remember a scene in the 1963 Pink Panther film where an old guy is trying to cross a town square and cars keep zipping past him. (Inspector Closeau is trying to catch the Pink Panther dressed in a gorilla costume and there are several gorilla dressed guys in several sports cars zooming around.) They then reappear from another direction to cross the square again. Eventually the old guy gives up and goes back to his chair to watch the cars zip up down, down up, across, zig zag, back up down, reverse, down, up, across....believe you me...we were repeating this version singlehandedly! On our way home from La Mussia agriturismo (where we'd had a great time incidentally and the family there is fantastic)...we followed a sign for the motorway out of the opposite end of town from whence we came (we were leaving towards France this time). It took us another hour to get out of the town and when we had found the right road (which was the one incidentally where La Mussia was)...some joker had moved the motorway sign so that it pointed in a completely different direction. Luckily we realised this just in time and whilst we were turning the car around we saw several foreign cars follow the sign and head for the hills...who said the Italians do not have a sense of humour! (Maybe we will be investing in a SatNav after all...)