This is Little Waitrose in Jesmond. I’ve chosen it only because I really like the name! I know it’s far from unique – there’s 30 or so around the country – but I think it’s great!

The Metrocentre has an intriguing strategy for dealing with empty shop units: they’re spun as evidence of the centre’s constant refreshing, revising, and revitalising of its brand portfolio. To my mind, it’s an approach that beats the near ubiquitous Shopjacket and its clones, which seem a little tacky. I suppose, though, this approach can only work in places where units tend not to stay empty for long – and where the empty shops are relatively few and far between.

This is the Hownsgill Viaduct. It’s 55m high, and a little over 200m long. It used to carry the Stanhope & Tyne Railway, but these days carries only the C2C cycle route. Construction was completed in 1858 to Sir Thomas Bouch’s design.

Bouch would later go on to design the Tay Bridge, which collapsed in use. Seventy-five people were killed, and Bouch’s reputation and career were left in tatters. Whilst the Hownsgill Viaduct is still standing, its fate has become almost as grim: it’s one of the UK’s suicide hotspots. In 2011, there was a death every two weeks. In response, Durham County Council is arranging the construction of a 3m high steel tube and cable fence.

Suicide barriers are a knotty public health issue: whilst they seem logically sound, it’s difficult to come up with strong evidence of their effectiveness. The most famous study in this area (and one which came up in my Part A MFPH, as it happens) is of the Bloor Street Viaduct in Toronto – where, actually, fewer suicides occurred each year than at Hownsgill. The study suggests that whilst the Luminous Veil barrier prevented suicides from the viaduct itself, it had no impact on the suicide rate as a whole. Of course, study design is a huge problem in this field, but it remains the case that no published study has shown a reduction in the overall suicide rate as a result of the erection of a barrier.

I guess the only thing we know for certain is that suicide is better tackled through comprehensive and wide-ranging suicide prevention programmes rather than through barriers alone. Psychiatry services often suffer when healthcare resources are tight; yet the biggest cause of death in British men under the age of 35 is suicide. Let’s hope that the vital work of mental health teams isn’t dismissed by anyone as “easy pickings” in the ongoing recession.

Over the course of this photographic year, I’ve featured lots of bits of the Ouseburn, a local river that runs from its source, near Newcastle airport, to the Tyne, near the famous Quayside. It also passes fairly near my house.

I’ve featured it so many times now that I know it’s become a groan-worthy subject for some: Wendy included! But today, I wanted to show you the Ouseburn at Ouseburn: the point at which the river flows through its namesake part of Newcastle, in the Ouseburn Valley. This is it flowing under the huge Byker Bridge:

The Byker Bridge was opened in 1878, and, in something resembling current Government policy, its construction was funded by a toll charged for use until 1895. It was designed by Robert Hodgson, who was better known for his rail bridges. It is built entirely of brick, and is almost 100ft tall and over 1000 feet long. This picture gives a better sense of scale:

Perhaps the more interesting construction which lies almost alongside Byker Bridge is the Ouseburn Viaduct, which carries the East Coast Mainline. It was – remarkably – originally a timber construction built in 1839. Thirty years later, the timber was switched to iron. Unfortunately, the viaduct is currently undergoing a £10m restoration, and so all that can be seen today is a web of scaffolding:

I’ll have to visit again when the work is complete… Ouseburn will be back!

This is a temple in Benwell. It isn’t very big, and there’s not much left of it, but then it is about 1,900 years old. It’s rather incongruously located on a residential street, a tiny patch of an English Heritage site sandwiched between two suburban semis.

It was (is?) a temple to the Roman or Brythonic god Antenociticus. This is the world’s only temple to Antenociticus (also called Anociticus for short), which must mean he’s a local Geordie god, I suppose, alongside the likes of Kevin Keegan and Alan Shearer. He did also get a mention in the Roman fort at Walwick Chesters.

Antenociticus’s head – or, at least, the head of his statue – was found here in 1862, and is now in the Great North Museum. Apparently, his hair style suggests either a connection to the Greek gods or a Celtic deer god. If the phrase “deer god” didn’t at least raise a wry smile, you’re a more serious, studious historian than me. It, along with a bit of approximate etymology around his name, also gives rise to his cool English epithet: “God of the antler-fringed forehead”.

If you are one of these stunningly clever people who studied A-Levels in either Classical Civilisation with OCR or Archeology with AQA, you’re more than likely laughing at my childlike fascination and misunderstanding of basic historical facts right now, as this tiny site features on the syllabi of both. It seems totally extraordinary that such a poorly understood small site in such odd modern-day surroundings could be chosen – but then, I know nothing about the subjects!

I forgot to take a photo again yesterday, but will catch up with two today!

This first one shows a big industrial apparatus that I pass every day in South Shields. I mean the big thing right in the middle of the shot. This was about as close as I was able to stop to get a photo.

It looks quite fascinating, but I’ve not a clue what it’s for. If you’re cleverer than me and know what it does, please let me know in the comments!

This wind turbine is close to my office: it’s a sad, solitary wind turbine. I don’t know if it actually powers my office, but I think it powers the Eco Centre next to it.

Today’s photo is another from the Tyne Riverside Country Park, which I’ve previously featured here and here. I guess featuring the same place thrice starts to push the boundaries of acceptable repetition, but it is a very pretty place…! If you’re ever in the area and fancy visiting, all the details you need are here – though if you’re able to go a bit further afield, Kielder Water and the surrounding forest are even nicer: that area’s nothing short of stunning.

Despite having lived together for seven years now, Wendy and I still don’t agree on tooth care! Wendy (on the right) prefers relatively cheap toothbrushes, and more upmarket paste; I (on the left) prefer more costly “hardware”, but cheaper “software”…!

I’m sure there’s some kind of detailed psychological evaluation that could be done on the basis of that information…!

As I’ve failed to take a photo for today, here’s one from yesterday of someone taking a picture of St James’ Park. Note the white sheet below the football symbol on the right of the picture, which is covering one of the many “Sports Direct Arena” signs.

If you’re confused by the spelling of St James’ Park, you aren’t the only one – as I’ve discussed before!