I went away for the weekend to see an old friend who now lives way way way up in the north of England, pretty much on the border of Scotland but curiously enough only a few miles from the geographic centre of Great Britain.

Life in her little village of Bellingham was something like I imagine much of England must have been like at one time. Everyone knew everybody else, the village shop keepers knew the names of the locals and the sence of community was strong.

Sarah has metamorphasized from the city girl I once knew who used to go out clubbing in the fashionably ‘next to nothingness’ that is the style here, to a girl who wears wax jackets, a flat cap, boots and a whistle around her neck for calling her dog. She even has a hunting shotgun licence!

Below are a few of the pictures I took over the course of the weekend.

Northumberland is as far north as one can go without actually leaving England for Scotland. The drive there was SO much more pleasant than last weeks drive to London. It was the first time I’d actually been there and the scenery even at this time of year was quite spectacular at times.

The way of life is different in the country. I think us ‘city folk’ forget that, or sometimes don’t even realise. But the things we get so wound up about here, like ID cards and the war in Iraq etc, just don’t seem to even warrent a second thought there.

Of course people all over the UK should be concerned about such things, but I think in places like the village of Bellingham peoples outlook is far more local than national, let alone international. When I was in the pub on Friday night with Sarah, the girl behind the bar was laughing at my “funny accent.”