I’ve featured Old Eldon Square before, but perhaps this shot from above gives a better sense of the space as it currently stands. I wrote more about the bronze statue of St George last time round.

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!

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!

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.

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!

Wendy and I, plus 42,000 of our closest friends, went today to support Brazil and Honduras in the Olympic men’s football quarter final at St James Park. It was only the third professional football match I’ve ever been to, and Wendy’s first. It was also the first time either of us had been to St James Park for sporting reasons, though we’ve both visited for work reasons in the past!

We were both slightly surprised (perhaps because we’re a little naive) at the level of security – everyone was patted down on entering, and police were peering down from the roofs of surrounding buildings at the crowd around the ground. We also balked slightly at the cost of drinks inside, especially since we couldn’t take liquids in.

But, all-in-all, we had a great time, and it’s brilliant to feel a little bit involved in London 2012!

This year, we are – of course – celebrating the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. 125 years ago, our forebears were celebrating Queen Victoria’s Golden Jubilee.

As part of those celebrations, a Royal Jubilee Exhibition was held in Newcastle, in the specially created Exhibition Park. It proved phenomenally successful, with over two million people visiting. Other than the very existence of the park itself, this band stand is the only remaining remnant of the Royal Jubilee Exhibition – note the crest above the entrance, and the crown around the spike at the top! It was cast in iron from a Glaswegian foundry, and it’s now Grade II listed.

This is Spirit of Jarrow, a Graham Ibbeson statue commemorating the Jarrow Crusade. Surprisingly, it was commissioned by Morrisons, the supermarket chain; less surprisingly, it’s in Jarrow.

The Jarrow Crusade was, of course, a 300-mile march of 200 shipyard workers from Jarrow to Parliament in 1936, highlighting the unemployment and poverty of the North East. It certainly didn’t result in a quick win: Stanley Baldwin refused to meet the marchers, and the depression in the North East continued pretty much up until the war.

That said, it did highlight the plight of the North East, and generated a lot of popular sympathy. It’s often cited as a milestone in the formation of the modern Labour party: it’s interesting to remember that the formal position of Labour party of the day was opposition, though Labour giant Ellen Wilkinson was its biggest political proponent. It’s perhaps a sad reflection of modern politics that such differences of opinion within a party are rarely tolerated these days.

This slightly broken bin has appeared in the road not too far from my house… how it appeared here, I really don’t know! Perhaps it’s a relative of these!