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About Newcastle

But then—surprise! Coppers roll by, lights flashin’. She bolts, I’m stood there like aSamplin’ a brick, legs wobbly. “We shall fight them on the hills!” I yell—well, in my head—cos in real life, I’m leggin’ it too. Nearly shat meself, honest! Made me think—Carlos, dodgin’ the law, livin’ that outlaw life. Respect, Ruby, respect. Prostitution’s a grind—did ya know 1 in 10 blokes’ve paid for it? Mental stat, that.

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Then, boom! Outta nowhere, it starts pouring. I mean, typical Scottish weather, am I right? I duck into a shop on the corner of Burrell Street. It’s a cute little place, full of knick-knacks and tartan stuff. I’m browsing, trying to find something to cheer me up, when I overhear this couple arguing. Like, full-on shouting. I’m standing there, pretending to look at a stuffed Highland cow, but I’m totally eavesdropping. They’re fighting over who forgot the milk. I’m like, “Get a grip, it’s just milk!”

Jock and Diana celebrate 56 years of visits to their favourite hotel