Thursday 23 May 2013

A Wander Around Dunstanburgh Castle

Dunstanburgh Castle

Dunstanburgh Castle is one of my favourite places to visit and if you've ever been you'll understand why. It's the embodiment of the romantic ruin, a time capsule from the 14th century unspoilt by modern development, left in splendid isolation for time and weather to take their toll while it maintains a lonely vigil by the sea.

The area is prone to flooding in wet weather
In fact, 'isolation' is a key word when it comes to Dunstanburgh, as historians have long puzzled over it's location. Castles are usually built to exercise power and influence over an important location- a town or market, a strategic road, river crossing or port- yet Dunstanburgh appears to have none of these. To try to answer this question we need to look at the man who built it, Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, cousin and political opponent to King Edward II. Thomas and the King did not always see eye to eye (to put it mildly) and disagreements between powerful men always had the potential to turn nasty in those days so, to my mind anyway, Dunstanburgh Castle is Thomas's get-out-of-jail card (or keep-out-of-jail card more like), a refuge or bolt-hole built as far away from the King's reach as possible while still being on his own land. In this scenario, the castle's isolation would have worked in it's favour, allowing the Earl to remain out of sight and out of mind until things calmed down. Whatever his reasoning, it didn't do Thomas much good; when the moment of crisis came (the guidebook tells us of a conference between him and his followers- 'by common consent, they should all go to the castle of Dunstanburgh, which pertained to the earldom of Lancaster, and abide there till the king had forgiven him'), he was unable to reach his new fortress and was captured and beheaded.
The mighty gatehouse

The sense of remoteness is one of the first things that strikes you when you first catch sight of it outlined on the horizon. It's possible to approach the castle from two different directions, via the neighbouring villages of Craster (from the south) or Embleton (north), but either way you'll need your walking shoes as there's no road within a mile of the castle. I favour the approach from Craster as it has the spectacular view seen above, but if you're visiting with children you may find Embleton better as the walk has a sandy beach as a distraction (for the non-castle geek) rather than the grassy-rocky shore that the Craster path features.

Weather-worn stonework
Entrance to the Castle is afforded by it's outstanding feature, the giant gatehouse cum keep, twin-towered with an arched passageway in between. The two drum-towers are three storeys high, topped with turrets that extended another two storeys, though little now remains. In the photo above, you can just see the remains of one turret at the very top of the left hand tower. Though scarred and battle-weary, it remains a magnificent, awe-inspiring sight. Get close to the structure and you'll see strange patterns in the individual stones caused by erosion from centuries of wind and rain, the result being a visual and tactile experience to rival any modern artist's work. Despite the ruinsome condition of the gatehouse it's possible to climb right to the top of the right-hand tower, and it's well worth the exertion as the views are quite spectacular, an 'on-top-of-the-world' feeling to contrast with the gloomy, claustrophobic nature of the interior.


View from the Gatehouse
The top of the gatehouse is a good place to survey the rest of the site. It's often described as the largest castle in Northumberland but it soon becomes clear that this is a bit of a cheat. It's the largest in terms of the area enclosed by the walls but this has much to do with the castle's siting on a promontory, the interior actually being fairly sparse and deliberately kept overgrown and grassy to serve as a habitat for wildlife.



The south-facing curtain wall adjoining the gatehouse is by far the thickest and best quailty of any point in the castle perimeter and this is no coincidence, as it's the most likely direction of attack. To the north and east the castle is protected by cliffs and the sea, while the west is protected by a steep slope.
Curtain Wall and Towers

Following the wall down to the sea leads to the Constable's Tower where the castle commander would have resided. In the absence of Thomas of Lancaster or his successor-owners, this was the most important figure here, charged with looking after the castle and it's surrounding environs.

The Egyncleugh Tower
Further still, the curtain wall terminates in the Egyncleugh ('eagle's ravine') Tower, precariously perched right on the cliff edge, preventing any enemy from outflanking the strong defences. The ravine below the tower is known as Queen Margaret's Cove, after Margaret of Anjou, wife of Henry VI and Lancastrian figurehead in The Wars of The Roses, supposedly landed here in in 1462. In reality, she landed further up the coast at Bamburgh but such legends have a tendency to stick. The Egyncleugh Tower once contained it's own gateway and drawbridge, allowing the occupants to come and go without requiring access to the gatehouse. Presumably this was to speed up the day-to-day activities (tradesman's entrance?) and keep the locals away from the Lord's lodgings if he happened to be in residence.

From this point, away from the likely direction of attack, the quality of the curtain wall deteriorates sharply, both in height and thickness.  The guidebook informs us that the wall was heightened at some point, presumably because the builders feared a naval landing (Wars of The Roses again?). This conjures up fanciful images of a medieval equivalent of the opening scenes from Saving Private Ryan but perhaps I'm getting a bit carried away here.
The Northern Perimeter and Gull Crag

At the far end of this (east) wall is another gateway, allowing access to the rocky headland beyond. The guidebook speculates that this may have been to allow the castle to be evacuated or re-supplied by sea in the event of a siege, though how practical this would have been in rough sea I'm not so sure.

As you reach the northern edge of the promontory the wall disappears completely, with no foundations visible and it's unclear if there was ever a wall or palisade here at all. If there was it clearly wasn't a significant work and it's not too suprising as the entire northern perimeter is protected by a 30 meter cliff known as Gull Crag and, below that, the sea.

The wall reappears at the western edge of the cliff, though much of the stone has been pilfered for reuse elsewhere. This side of the castle is dominated by The Lilburn Tower, named for one John de Lilburn, constable of Dunstanburgh in 1322. The view from here across Embleton bay is fantastic, and on a clear day Bamburgh Castle, some 10 miles north, can also be seen.
The Lilburn Tower

The fact that The Lilburn Tower is sited in this prime viewing location may be an indication as to it's primary function, as a watchtower over the northern approaches to the castle. It's also possible that it's there to perform exactly the opposite role, that is, not to see but to be seen. For just as Bamburgh Castle, a royal stronghold representing the power and authority of the King, can be seen from here, so the occupants of that fortress would be able to look across to the Lilburn Tower and be reminded that power and authority are not unchallengeable.


After you leave the tower, the next notable section of this stretch of wall is known as 'John of Gaunt's Gatehouse' and to explain this we need to take another trip into the castle's history.

After Thomas of Lancaster's execution in 1322, Dunstanburgh came into the hands of the king, who decided it could be a useful bulwark against potential Scottish aggression and therefore worth looking after. Had he known about the castle's remote location, away from any major road and therefore unlikely to be much of an obstacle to an invasion from north of the border, he may have reached a different judgement. That said, given Edward II's history with the Scots (he was present at Bannockburn in 1314, perhaps the worst military defeat in medieval English history), he may have felt he needed all the help he could get.
Bamburgh Castle on the horizon, seen from the Lilburn Tower

Dunstanburgh later came into the hands of Earl Thomas's younger brother Henry and eventually, in 1362, passed to one of the most famous Lancastrians, John of Gaunt, Duke (rather than Earl) of Lancaster and son of Edward III. Though not as famous as his elder brother, Edward the Black Prince, Gaunt wielded enormous wealth and power. The son of a king and the uncle of a king, he posthumously became the father of a king when his son Henry Bolingbroke usurped the throne as Henry IV, founding the dynasty of Lancastrian kings that would end in The Wars of The Roses, during which Dunstanburgh Castle would see it's only large-scale fighting.

The rear of the Gatehouse/Keep
John of Gaunt came to Northumberland in 1380 as part of his new post as lieutenant in the Scottish marches. This meant he was responsible for border security, of which castles played a huge part. He must have been unimpressed by Dunstanburgh as he ordered changes to be made, the main one of which saw Thomas of Lancaster's great gatehouse converted to a keep by walling up the entrance. He also had new inner walls built, effectively sealing off the new keep from the rest of the castle, and built a new entrypoint, protected by a barbican. It is the remains of this last mentioned work which we encountered above, bearing the name of John of Gaunt.

Inside the Gatehouse
Speaking of Dunstanburgh's inadequacies, the guidebook tells an interesting tale of how, during the peasant's revolt of 1381 Gaunt, a major figure in the government of the country and hence likely to meet with anger and violence from the rebels, preferred to leave his own castle as he feared it was not strong enough and sought refuge in Alnwick Castle instead. Personally, I find this hard to take at face value, since Dunstanburgh's remoteness would surely have played to it's advantage on this occasion. Did Gaunt really fear that large numbers of rebels, poorly armed, untrained and disorganised, would have travelled several miles without artillery or siege equipment and then successfully assault this castle? Perhaps my affection for Dunstanburgh is showing here, or maybe John of Gaunt was a particularly paranoid individual, but I think it more likely that Gaunt would have gone to Alnwick in order to place himself in a more influential location from which to control events, rather than hunkering down by the sea.

The Lilburn Tower in April 2011
Continuing the tour, as you pass by the 'new' gatehouse you once again encounter the hulking structure of the 'old' gatehouse and realise you have come full circle, literally and figuratively. But the wander doesn't stop there, as I always make a point of walking past the castle in the direction of Embleton. Just as Craster affords the best view of the gatehouse, Embleton offers the ground level views of the Lilburn tower, which have become a favourite of photographers and painters. The view varies depending on the weather as the ground below the tower floods easily. Indeed, the most recent archaeological surveys suggest these 'meres' were intended to be part of the castle's original defences and were far more extensive than originally thought, stretching right round and almost connecting with the sea on both sides. This would have created the illusion that the castle was in fact an island, which some commentators have suggested was part of Thomas of Lancaster's original vision of the castle, seeing it as a second Avalon with (of course) himself as King Arthur. There's certainly an ethereal quality, an other-worldliness, about seeing The Lilburn Tower reflected in the surface of the mere below so it's not hard to see why this theory hasn't been dismissed.
Avalon?

Whatever the truth about the once and future king, neither he nor Earl Thomas were able to help Dunstanburgh when war finally came to the castle, in 1461 during the Wars of The Roses as mentioned earlier. Following the Yorkist victory at the great battle of Towton, Dunstanburgh, along with it's fellow Northumbrian strongholds at Alnwick and Bamburgh, became one of the few places still held for the defeated Lancastrians. King Henry VI and Queen Margaret had fled to Scotland and there remained the possibility that, once regrouped, they could launch an invasion from north of the border, using the northumbrian castles as a rallying point and launchpad. To prevent this, the Yorkist leaders resolved to take the fortresses while launching a charm offensive on the Scots in order to diplomatically isolate the Lancastrians.

Viewed from Embleton
What followed was almost a microcosm of The Wars of The Roses as Dunstanburgh was taken, lost, taken again, and lost again before finally being captured for good in 1464. These sieges were conducted more through blockade and starvation than through direct assault and Dunstanburgh at least avoided the ignominy of becoming the first castle in England to succumb to cannon fire (that particular distinction fell to Bamburgh not long after). The main figure in the sieges was Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, better known as 'Warwick The Kingmaker' and there's a small  irony in the fact that Dunstanburgh, which owed it's creation and rise to great Lancastrians, should fall to a great Yorkist. That's if you can call Warwick a Yorkist, but that's an argument for another day.

Dunstanburgh never really recovered from it's mauling during The Wars of The Roses. It's walls were not mended and it's buildings fell into neglect and disrepair until restoration work in the 19th and 20th centuries left us with the glorious ruin we see today. I for one would not have it any other way.
Viewed from Craster harbour

Visiting the Castle

Dunstanburgh Castle lies on the Northumberland coast, roughly 40 miles north of Newcastle. Parking (not free) is available in Craster, just over a mile from the castle. Bamburgh, Alnwick and Warkworth Castles are all within a 12 mile radius of Dunstanburgh. The Castle is open at weekends only from November to March, and all week from April to October. Admission is free to members of both English Heritage and the National Trust.

Sunday 19 May 2013

The Late Shows

Newcastle at night
Saturday night in a rain-drenched Newcastle. Less than a mile away, local hero Mark Knopfler is playing, erm, Local Hero to a crowd of thousands at the Metro Arena. Meanwhile, as per usual, hordes of inappropriately dressed drinkers are flocking to the bars in the Haymarket, the Bigg Market or on the Quayside. At the same time, those who don't fancy pulling on their waterproofs to venture outside can stay in and watch Denmark bring home the bacon in the Eurovision Song Contest. But not me. I'm stood in the Cathedral Church of St Nicholas watching a contemporary dance performance while handing out stickers and luminous yellow rods to complete strangers. As you do. Now you might argue this is strange behaviour for an uncultured factory monkey like myself, and you'd probably be right. After all, I'm the sort of person who thinks the best thing about The Baltic art gallery is the view out of the window. But I make an exception for this, because this is The Late Shows.

My Location for The Late Shows, 2013

The Late Shows, a 'culture crawl' around Newcastle and Gateshead, has been around since 2007 though it's only come to my attention in the last couple of years. It's part of a greater, UK wide initiative called Museums At Night, itself linked to a European campaign called La Nuit de Musees. The essence of the scheme is getting cultural venues that are usually closed in the evening to open at night to provide a different experience and hopefully attract new visitors. In Newcastle in the first year, 14 events took part and the number has grown over the years to it's present total of around 60.

My involvement began in 2012 when I received an email asking for volunteer stewards at the various venues. The idea intrigued me but, not being an arty type, I was a bit wary so opted for venues I would be already interested in, namely the cathedrals and castle (as part of the recruitment, you're asked to select three venues you'd like to steward, and they try to match you to one of your choices).

The uniform- glowstick, t-shirt, and id
Your main task as a steward is to describe what event or attraction will be happening at your venue to the vistors. You also hand out literature, keep a track on visitor numbers, and hand out the aforementioned luminous rods. Luminous rods? Yes, luminous rods, also known as glowsticks. These have become a very popular part of the programme, and are a good way of fostering camaraderie, as people trekking between different venues can easily spot fellow LateShowers by the bright yellow wands dangling round their necks.

So popular has The Late Shows become that it's spawned an offshoot, The Late-Late Shows. These are venues such as The Sage and The Tyneside Cinema that already open in the evening, so couldn't be part of the standard event. Instead, they put on attractions even later, hence the name.

High-art in a beautiful setting (note the glowsticks!)
Anyway, I enjoyed myself so much in 2012 that I volunteered again this year at the same location, the Cathedral Church of St Nicholas, where a dance performance took place, proving very popular. The location of the Cathedral, just off the bottom of Newcastle's notorious drinking spot, The Bigg Market, guarantees no shortage of interesting passers-by, some of whom will drop in on the way to their next bar. This year for instance, we had the scantily dressed young lady who tried to shelter in the doorway but inadvertently lent on the door itself and came tumbling inside, legs akimbo. She righted herself with all the dignity she could muster and, with a quick 'bless me father for I have sinned', was off again, into the night. We also had a slightly-the-worse-for-wear man who came in, faced the wall, and crossed himself. He then turned through ninety degrees and repeated the action, then again, then once more until he had saluted all four corners of the building, all at breakneck speed. This wasn't quite as amusing as last year's (hen party?) incident where a giant inflatable penis bobbed slowly back and forth outside the stained glass windows but it came pretty close.
Late-night classical performance at The Sage

After my spot of volunteering finished, I crossed the river to the Gateshead side, where The Sage was staging a free classical music concert on the concourse while visitors were given access to the viewing galleries of the main halls. All in all, a  thoroughly enjoyable experience which I would recommend to anyone,


If you'd like to find out more about The Late Shows, visit their website at 
http://www.thelateshows.org.uk/home.html

Friday 17 May 2013

A Wander Around Prudhoe Castle

Prudhoe Castle viewed from the approach road


I tend to take Prudhoe Castle for granted as it's so close to where I live (10 minutes drive or an hours walk) but I shouldn't because it's a real gem. The gatehouse and unusual barbican are particularly impressive.

Viewed from Ovingham
The initial approach, coming from the direction of Prudhoe town, is a little suprising. Castles are usually placed on high ground so they can dominate the local area (psychologically as well as physically) but in this case you have to travel downhill to reach it. It's only once you've had a good walk around it that you realise the strategic sense. Prudhoe Castle is all about controlling the River Tyne and the position, on a plateau midway down the bank gives it the best of both worlds - steep banks on 3 sides give it excellent defence while being close enough to the river to leave no doubt as to who's in charge.

You get a good impression if you continue down the hill and cross the bridge to the Ovingham side. Back in the day, all those trees you can see wouldn't be there (not to mention the industrial estate) and the (non-ruined) castle would have stood out all the more, looming on the horizon.

The Barbican and Gatehouse
You approach the castle, as any potential attacker would have done, through the barbican. This is a fortified building outside the gatehouse, a sort of gatehouse-gatehouse if you will, intended to make an assault on the castle that much more difficult. The modern paving stones make the route through the barbican to the gatehouse look deceptively easy, in reality the two buildings were physically separated and linked only by a drawbridge in the gatehouse.

The gatehouse itself is much older than the barbican and is probably the oldest surviving part of the castle. It was built in about 1150, though it was heightened two centuries later during improvement work. The wooden gates have been dated to about 1460, according to the guidebook.

Rear view of the Gatehouse
The room above the gatehouse contains a small chapel and has an unusual projecting window on the east side with two 13th century lancet windows (a lancet window is one of the features of medieval gothic architecture, a narrow window with a pointed arch, so named because of it's resemblance to a lance).

The gatehouse opens into a large outer bailey or courtyard, which once contained a great hall and domestic buildings (kitchens, pantries etc). The keep would have been cramped and uncomfortable so most of the day to day business of the castle would have been carried out here. Nowadays, the bailey is used as a picnic area.

Castle Model On Display
At the centre of the castle there is a modern(-ish) house, built in the early nineteenth century. This is used as the administration and information centre by the castle owners (English Heritage) and also contains an exhibition detailing the castle's history and showcases various artefacts found during archaeological digs. The highlight for me was a model of the castle in its prime, on show in the upstairs room.

Castle Keep
Leaving the house through the rear exit leads to the keep, the military heart of the castle.  Most of it is in ruins, but one of the corner turrets still survives, topped with a flag fluttering defiantly to give an idea of how impressive it must have been in it's prime. Such skeletal remains are of course a disappointment, but also instructive, as it affords a useful cross-sectional view. You can see the original entrance situated, like many Norman keeps, not on the ground floor but on the first floor, accessed by an external wooden staircase. In an emergency, the staircase would be burnt or smashed, making it extremely difficult for an attacker to break in. There is also an entrance below it but this only gives access to the ground floor itself, used generally for storage, with no access to the floors above it. On the west wall a scar is visible from where the gable end of the pitched roof was, and you can also see the internal staircase leading up to the corner turret.
Staircase inside the walls

On leaving the keep, you can then explore the inner bailey. There's a staircase leading up to the curtain walls but, sadly, climbing them is forbidden as the walls are in such a dilapidated state. In fact, the walls have been the subject of much repair over the centuries, due to subsidence caused by unstable foundations.

Arrow Loop
The South curtain wall contains a fine example of a medieval arrow loop, cross-shaped to allow the use of either crossbow or longbow, and situated to defend the pele yard outside. This was the most vulnerable portion of the castle as it's the only side not protected by a steep drop, a fact that becomes clear when you leave the castle and explore the outer perimeter.

Viewed from the Pele Yard
The pele yard is the area directly south of the castle and would have housed buildings used in the daily activities such as stables and barns. It also contained a stone chapel until Henry VIII outlawed them, and it fell into disuse (don't get me started on Henry VIII). This is also the best place to appreciate the castle as a whole, as there are no trees or steep slopes to interfere with the view. The curtain wall once contained two drum towers but only one now remains, the other being reduced to it's base when security became less of a concern. Visible in the wall are numerous arrow loops and small holes, the latter probably to support wooden hoardings. These were screens which projected out of the wall to give the defenders improved fields of fire.
Slope below the East Tower

There's a trail which leads right round the castle, from which you can appreciate how difficult it would be to assault up the steep slopes. There's also a ruined mill just outside the barbican, 18th-century in this case, although there had been older mills here for centuries previously. They could be quite a money spinner for the local Lord as the locals often had no choice but to use it.




A Brief History 

Prudhoe Castle started life as an earth and timber fortress built around 1100 to control a crossing of the River Tyne (I believe this was a ford rather than a bridge but I could be wrong). By about 1200 it had been converted to stone and was progressively improved over the following centuries with towers, a barbican and improved accomodation, reaching it's peak by about 1500, before falling into neglect and decay.

Castle Gatehouse
Prudhoe Castle was besieged twice, in 1173 and 1174, both times by the Scottish King William the Lion. The present display inside the castle provides details of the sieges, including an eyewitness account written by Jordan Fantosme, who has William saying to his barons: 'My lords, what shall we do? As long as Prudhoe stands we shall never have peace'. It's difficult to find details of exactly what state of development the castle was at this point, but by my reckoning, it would be after the stone gatehouse and curtain wall were constructed, but before the stone keep was built.

Both sieges were unsuccessful and, following the second attempt, William was captured in a battle near Alnwick and forced to pay homage to the English King Henry II.

Inside the chapel
I was hoping to find some information on Prudhoe Castle's involvement in the later wars with Scotland as the Tyne Valley area was a frequent target for raids led by the likes of William Wallace and Robert Bruce. So far I've been unsuccessful and perhaps that's not suprising, as the Scots tended to travel light and move quickly, avoiding heavily fortified places such as castles. I suspect they would have given Prudhoe a wide berth and searched for easier pickings elsewhere.

The guidebook describes the castle as being 'captured' by the Yorkist Edward IV during the Wars of the Roses in 1464 but gives no mention of a siege so I interpret it to mean it was a negotiated takeover. Bamburgh, Dunstanburgh and Alnwick castles were all taken by force in the same period so I suspect if Prudhoe had been under a similar siege we'd have heard more about it.

Visiting the Castle

The Outer Bailey
Prudhoe lies roughly 10 miles West of Newcastle, just South of the River Tyne. There's a good bus service from both Newcastle and Hexham and a train station 1/2 mile away (steep uphill walk though). The Castle is only open between Thursdays and Mondays, and closed altogether in the Winter months (November - March) so check before you visit.

Outside the castle, a walk uphill will take you to Prudhoe town, which offers the usual shops and cafes as well as great views looking North over the Tyne Valley. Walking down the hill will lead to a park with a picnic/walking area by the river. All in all a very nice day out.

Saturday 11 May 2013

How Many Tweets Make A Twat?

"Too many tweets make a twat" was David Cameron's response to an interview question about why he wasn't on Twitter. He's since joined of course, or someone in his office has and tweets on his behalf.  I follow him but so far he hasn't followed me back, though I'm sure he will once he sees my #saturdaysausage photos.

What Twitter's all about - pictures of sausage sandwiches
Social media (Facebook and Twitter in my case) doesn't have a great reputation. Depending on your own personal prejudices it's populated by tattooed, lager-swilling chavs typing "LOL" into their permanently attached phones, or else by latte-loving, yoghurt-knitting, mung bean eating Guardian readers.

Me? I think it's great. I like the sheer mundane nature of the pics/tweets (see left) and I particularly enjoy the challenge of writing my own, mainly because it's so alien to me. Prior to Twitter and Facebook, my only experience of creative writing was writing essays at school and I'd never realised how hard it is. Everything I wrote sounded like it was written by an eight year old - "Today I went to the zoo. I had ice cream. It was nice." As a result, as well as having a new found respect for authors, I've determined to improve my writing skills, hence this blog thingy.

The greatest moment in human history
It's also a great way of meeting new people and broadening your experiences. Through Twitter I've chatted to people all over the world, from wrestling fans in Iraq (yes, really)  to Chelsea supporters in South Africa. It's introduced me to Choral music, book festivals and art galleries. I've been tweeted out of the blue by Sheridan Smith, chatted to Chris Addison and had a retweet from Gary Lineker.

Some say it's a waste of time spending time in a virtual world at the expense of the real one and maybe they have a point. Compared to composing a symphony, painting a picture or learning a new language, messing about on Twitter is pretty pointless, but most people aren't doing these things. Most of my tweeting comes when I'm plonked on the sofa in front of the tv or riding on a bus so I consider it an enhancement to my current activity rather than an alternative to something worthwhile.

Sure there's a downside - foul and abusive behaviour and spamming to name two, but most of this can be avoided by careful management of your timeline. Based on my four years on Twitter, here are some #TopTips.

1. Don't tell people how to use Twitter
I appreciate this is contradicting everything else I'm going to put in this list but ultimately people will use Twitter the way that is best for them, and so they should. Don't like people re-tweeting their own Follow-Fridays? Don't follow 'em, simple as that. Anyway, this is my blog so I'm allowed to be hypocritical. Don't like it? Stop reading. (Wait!! Come back.....)

Nice, eh?
2. Be Nice (even to Piers Morgan)
Search for mentions of certain celebrities (footballers and politicians particularly) and you'll find a tirade of abuse. I understand feelings run high but I don't agree with it. For me, if you wouldn't say it to someone's face then you shouldn't say it at all (a cliche of course, but sayings only become cliches because they're true in my experience). Much as I dislike Joey Barton I wouldn't abuse him to his face, especially if he's holding a lit cigar. Ask yourself what your mother would say, unless your mother is the sort of person who would call someone a cockwomble or speculate about commiting sodomy with a hammer, in which case don't. Ask what my mother would say. Believe me, she wouldn't be impressed.

3.Who to Follow
Most people start off their Twitter life by following celebrities they like or people they know. Great, but  the experience is limited if that's all you do.You won't get much engagement with celebs and you already know the people you know so there's nought new there. No, what you want is to make the acquaintance of new people, witty erudite people, possibly with similar interests to you. But how to find them? Some people ask their existing followers to recommend them to others ('pimping out') which is fine except you have no idea if the people who follow you as a result are people you'll want to engage with, assuming anyone follows you in the first place. A better way, in my humble opinion, is to ask your followers to recommend other people for you to follow, as people will naturally suggest their best/favourite follows so it comes with a built-in quality control.

There's also the DIY approach - Type a subject you're interested in into the search box (music, sport, tv, balloon animals etc), see who's tweeting funny or interesting stuff about it, and follow them. Simple as that. With luck they'll follow back (you can always nudge them along by tweeting them to say hi) and even if they don't, you're still following someone who you find engaging. Repeat x10, x100 or x1000 according to your taste and you'll soon find you've got a timeline to die for.


4. It's Not Just About The Tweets
So you've just tweeted something Oscar Wilde would've been proud of and you sit back and wait for the plaudits. And wait. And wait. Believe me you're not the only one (there's me as well so that's at least two of us) but don't despair. Replying to or re-tweeting a comment is actually quite a compliment because someone's taken the trouble to single you out for attention which they didn't have to do, and this fact is key to getting the best out of Twitter. When I think about who my favourite follow(er)s are, in most cases it's not just about their general tweets, it's about their replies, the fact they take the time to have one to one engagement. So if no one is tweeting you, why not tweet them first?


5. To Follow Back or not to Follow Back
Some people, especially when they're new to Twitter and trying to build their follower base, automatically follow back whenever they get a new follower. Fair enough but don't feel obliged to do it. Ask yourself how and why this person came to be following you, have you been pimped out or re-tweeted lately? See how many followers you have in common as this is also a good clue. The reason for this caution is nothing sinister (not usually anyway), it's just to make sure your timeline remains as interesting as it should be, and not contaminated by spam (or 'shite' as I prefer to call it). Many organisations, businesses and individuals create a Twitter account to promote a particular service or message, which is great if it's of interest to you but boring and irrelevant if it's not. Be aware.

Tuesday 7 May 2013

I have no idea what I'm doing

It occurs that 'My First Blog' should have been the title of the post, not the title of the blog, and now I can't find how to change it. I've only been on 5 minutes and already I've broke it. Anyway, never mind.

This isn't really a blog, it's more of an online diary. I'm saying that obviously because I'm not expecting anyone to read it and it'll make me feel better about getting no views. Also, I'm hoping to develop my creative writing skills and this seemed a nice easy way to do it.

I expect to be writing mainly about my current interests- mainly history (medieval esp) and my constant battle to stay sane. Also jogging as it helps keep me fit, mentally and phyisically.

To finish I'm going to try and add a picture. Here goes:


It's the bridge at Corbridge for no reason whatsoever.