Places I Love. No 2.

No 2. The Cumberland Arms, Byker.
In the late 80's, due to some daft housing mix up, I scored a hard to let flat in Byker Buildings, which was just along from The Cumberland Arms. 


At the time it was managed by a bloke called Billy. The tip of Billy's nose was plastic. It looked as though someone had bitten it off in a fight. 
Come to think of it, Billy looked like he could have  bitten his own nose off in a fight with himself. Despite this, regular visits brought about a warm familiarity. 




The same could not be said of the barman, whose name was quite inappropriately, Tommy Cooper. He was a sour man. I only ever once saw him outside the pub, walking down Shields Road. It was wrong seeing him out of context and in daylight. Daylight didn't suit him. He died in the end. Probably of sourness.


One of the great things about the Cumberland was the upstairs room. It was free to use. Just about anyone who had an interest in comedy and music played here. It was a bit shabby, and you could do whatever you wanted. At one show we were playing, and, this still haunts me to this day, I hit Phil Hinsley, from the stage, on the head, at full swing, with a Blue Peter annual. Really hit him hard. There were cartoon birds flying round his bonce. I'm sure I had good reason to, but it was a big surprise when it happened. 

These days, thanks to some canny management, The Cumberland is still going strong. When twatty pubs the length and breadth of the country are being closed down, this simple, friendly no frills pub goes from strength to strength. It's a testament to all who frequent the bar, a bar that still supports local talent and, on sunny days, brings round sun cream to ensure you don't get burnt whilst in your cups. If they could just sort out the staffing to calm endless bar queues on busy days it's be the best pub in the world. Oh, fuck it, it is the best pub in the world. 

Places I Love.

Just a slight swerve, from the music.
Some places in Newcastle that I love.

No 1. Scotts Gentlemen's Hairdressers, The Side, Newcastle.

I've been going here for 25 years. I was first taken here by Steve Lynch, one of the worst drummers I've ever had the pleasure of being in a band with.



It was 1985, and the height of checky-shirt-flat-top-mania. I'd already got a good flatty after getting my hair fettled by the barbers that Madness frequented on Camden High Street. In a new town, I needed a new gentleman barber, and I found one.

There were queues into the street to get your hair cut, especially on a Saturday.  They close at 12.30 on a Saturday morning, but followed the golden rule, if you're over the threshold, you get your haircut. Quite often people would be there a couple of hours later.

Nowadays it's a little quieter, but the crack is just the same. There's Dave, Shaun and Barry. Shaun's the new boy, he's been there a couple of years, his cut is top notch, he takes really good care. Barry is a grumpy young man, he left for a while, but came back in the end. Dave is the boss, he's a little mellower these days. When I first started going there, I thought him to be quite ferocious.
He knows all about me and my family, and I love the fact that he asks after them. That's him there talking. And talking. And talking.

In 25 years I've only had my haircut in three different places. They never got it right. At Scotts they do. It's a great place to spend half an hour, and you always come out looking smart, and it's still less than a tenner to get a haircut.