Hen Parties, Birthday Parties and Co-op Parties.
Haltwhistle Station was full of backpackers heading into the hills, water dripping down their Anoraks and leaving damp patches on their shorts, the healthy and fit, happy to be off striding the green wilderness of Hadrian's Wall, and apparently unconcerned by the weather.
The car park was closed for resurfacing so cars were left haphazardly around the Station Entrance whilst the less adventurous amongst us waited for the train to Newcastle or for a day of consumer indulgence in the Metro Centre.
The weather in Newcastle was better, warmer and sunnier and drier which was just as well as the whole station appeared to packed out with Hen Parties, I wondered if it might have something to do with the new film Bridesmaids, surely there cannot be this many weddings happening in June?
Maybe it was a way of saying 'the hell with the fiscal crisis, the hell with cash strappedness and belt tightening and looming unemployment let's have a good time, let's have a girls weekend, we'll just have a hen party, and 'Lustful Lyndsay' ordered the T Shirts and the Sashes and off they went.
In fact one 'Hen' Party had a couple of honorary hens and the young men wore their pink sashes proudly. Drink for England seemed to be the theme that connected all the hen parties. At each Station between Newcastle and Darlington, well OK at both Stations, more hen parties joined the train which was heading for what I still call Ringway but which has grown up and is now called Manchester Airport, so these hen parties could be heading for cheap weekend breaks in Leeds? Manchester? or even further afield Malaga, Majorca or Madrid?
Who knows?
But the Birthday Party was instant.
Eight people joined the train and settled into their reserved seats. Then produced from under their jackets and out of their handbags, an instant party complete with streamers, party poppers, lots of party drinks, snacks, dips, bunting, balloons and great good humour and suddenly we were all caught up in wishing the birthday girl a successful night out in Leeds.
Nobody actually sang Happy Birthday but on reflection we should have done, so Happy Birthday.
At Darlington my party left the train and we headed off to the Co-op Party Council Meeting.
By comparison with the Hen and Birthday Parties it was a relatively dull affair with discussion of motions and amendments and choosing delegates for this and that future meeting, the highlight was the Trades Union Buffet: Ham Sandwiches, Pork Pies, instant coffee and Builders Tea.
The word mutualization was used, it is clearly a word that needs reclaiming from Mr Cameron who, like the Queen in an Alice in Wonderland, appears to imbue words with the meaning he chooses, or maybe it is a word that, like St Francis prayer has now been so discredited that it cannot now be redeemed.
So we planned a weekend school on Mutualization and the Labour Party and I wondered just what the hill walkers and the hen partiers and the birthday celebrants might have made of us, as we sat either side of a long narrow table and earnestly discussed points of order on a Saturday afternoon in June.
We were all people choosing to use our economic strength to meet our social, and cultural aspirations through a jointly owned and democratically controlled effort, it's just that somehow I couldn't help thinking that Cyndi Lauper had it right all along and that the Hen and Birthday Partiers were just having more fun ................
Haltwhistle Station was full of backpackers heading into the hills, water dripping down their Anoraks and leaving damp patches on their shorts, the healthy and fit, happy to be off striding the green wilderness of Hadrian's Wall, and apparently unconcerned by the weather.
The car park was closed for resurfacing so cars were left haphazardly around the Station Entrance whilst the less adventurous amongst us waited for the train to Newcastle or for a day of consumer indulgence in the Metro Centre.
The weather in Newcastle was better, warmer and sunnier and drier which was just as well as the whole station appeared to packed out with Hen Parties, I wondered if it might have something to do with the new film Bridesmaids, surely there cannot be this many weddings happening in June?
Maybe it was a way of saying 'the hell with the fiscal crisis, the hell with cash strappedness and belt tightening and looming unemployment let's have a good time, let's have a girls weekend, we'll just have a hen party, and 'Lustful Lyndsay' ordered the T Shirts and the Sashes and off they went.
In fact one 'Hen' Party had a couple of honorary hens and the young men wore their pink sashes proudly. Drink for England seemed to be the theme that connected all the hen parties. At each Station between Newcastle and Darlington, well OK at both Stations, more hen parties joined the train which was heading for what I still call Ringway but which has grown up and is now called Manchester Airport, so these hen parties could be heading for cheap weekend breaks in Leeds? Manchester? or even further afield Malaga, Majorca or Madrid?
Who knows?
But the Birthday Party was instant.
Eight people joined the train and settled into their reserved seats. Then produced from under their jackets and out of their handbags, an instant party complete with streamers, party poppers, lots of party drinks, snacks, dips, bunting, balloons and great good humour and suddenly we were all caught up in wishing the birthday girl a successful night out in Leeds.
Nobody actually sang Happy Birthday but on reflection we should have done, so Happy Birthday.
At Darlington my party left the train and we headed off to the Co-op Party Council Meeting.
By comparison with the Hen and Birthday Parties it was a relatively dull affair with discussion of motions and amendments and choosing delegates for this and that future meeting, the highlight was the Trades Union Buffet: Ham Sandwiches, Pork Pies, instant coffee and Builders Tea.
The word mutualization was used, it is clearly a word that needs reclaiming from Mr Cameron who, like the Queen in an Alice in Wonderland, appears to imbue words with the meaning he chooses, or maybe it is a word that, like St Francis prayer has now been so discredited that it cannot now be redeemed.
So we planned a weekend school on Mutualization and the Labour Party and I wondered just what the hill walkers and the hen partiers and the birthday celebrants might have made of us, as we sat either side of a long narrow table and earnestly discussed points of order on a Saturday afternoon in June.
We were all people choosing to use our economic strength to meet our social, and cultural aspirations through a jointly owned and democratically controlled effort, it's just that somehow I couldn't help thinking that Cyndi Lauper had it right all along and that the Hen and Birthday Partiers were just having more fun ................
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