It's late in the day and I still haven't even started writing my blog today. There's a good reason for it. A very good reason. Winefride was listening while I was dictating the posts for the last couple of days as I met the Herma Merma Dragora and then was lucky enough to find a ferryman across the Tyne. She was looking at the pictures too and she did really well because she starting pointing at them. I asked her if she would like to go on a ship like that too one day and she got excited by that thought. It was almost more excited than I've ever seen her before.
So last night I talked to my person about it and told her how much it would mean to both Winefride and myself if we could one day we taken on the ferry together. Then this morning she completely surprised me by saying that today would be the day. She had been planning on going for a very long walk and taking us with her but the weather didn't look right for that. She still wanted to go out somewhere though and said that we could all get the Metro to South Shields, have a little explore there, and then find the ferry person and cross the river and have another little explore.
It's been a stunning day, full of adventures. Winefride has had a brilliant time and it's been wonderful and joyous to see how happy she's been. She enjoyed the ferry the most of course and we have some great pictures that I'll show you sometime. But that wasn't the only adventure. Winefride met a friendly lion, rode on the shoulders of Muffin the Mule and we met a creature living in a tree. It got a little bit dangerous at one point and it was only with the help of a giant octopus that Winefride was able to rescue me from being eaten alive by a shark. I was quite scared. It actually had me in its mouth and if it wasn't for my sister and the octopus she had made friends with I don't know what would have happened. My person tells me that the shark would probably have realised that I'm not a fish and wouldn't have eaten me. But it was still a frightening experience. I had a few adventures of my own while Winefride was having a rest and even my person had some fun. She played on a roundabout and a zip wire in the rain. Watching her have fun was brilliant. The only things that would have made it better were if it hadn't been raining so much and if my creator was there to share the fun of the play area.
Anyway. I'll tell you about all that another day and show off the pictures. They're all stuck on my person's phone at the moment and she needs to get round to moving them onto her computer. But she kindly agreed to email one picture to herself so I could put it in my blog today. Here are Winefride and myself and behind us the ferry is just arriving to carry us across the water. Isn't it swish?
But back to my other adventure. We climbed the hill from the ferry into the centre of North Shields. I don't understand it. I thought we would get more of a welcome after our heroic trek. I thought there would be banners raised in our honour, that the streets would be lined with cheering crowds and that they would possibly even be throwing rose petals in our path. But there was none of that. Nothing. It was almost as if the city of North Shields did not know that we were coming and that we had completed such an arduous ordeal in order to be there.
We walked on, through the very centre of that city. We still didn't see any shields for sale but I did spot at least one shop selling socks. Even in North Shields in this century, socks had replaced shields. Perhaps the cities should both have changed their names by now and the area be known as the Land of Socks. But maybe they are overly proud of their historical heritage and keep the name in order to remember a time of valour and shields that would otherwise be forgotten. Maybe more barbarian hordes would invade if the city were called North Socks. It's not such a powerful name. Maybe the barbarians don't know about the socks. I hope they don't ever read my blog otherwise it'll only be the Herma Merma Dragora - and the powerful, friendly lion we met today - who stand between Shields and it's total annihilation.
Further we walked. Further still. Away from the noise. Away from the crowds who hadn't known to cheer. Eventually we saw a church ahead of us. A place of God. My person said that this was our final destination and there we would receive the welcome we deserved and be able to share in the fabulous banquet we had been promised. The building rose up ahead of us, imposing, as if the people there had fought and won many battles against barbarian hordes. My person is trying to tell me that in the 300 years the church has been there, no barbarian hordes have tried to invade the Land of Shields. But I think my story is much better than hers. Her story might be believed by scholars of history but it's not very exciting. Her story is this: A church got built. People worshipped in it. And then one day the people welcomed the people from the walk for refugees and gave them a banquet. The end. My story is far better. I didn't see any socks for sale in the church either. The church website says it has a long and fascinating past. So my story must logically be closer to the truth than that of my person. I'm sticking with it anyway.
We entered the building. Journey's end. We had made it.
And we were welcomed as we deserved. The people of Christ Church, North Shields had done an amazing job preparing for our coming. We all took our seats in the banqueting hall.
There were some speeches to commemorate the occasion. The minister who led the walk said a prayer. He talked with my person and by the end of the chat they were friends on that which is called Facebook. They discovered that they had a mutual friend in Scotland, someone who had stood beside my person when she got married.
And then. And then. We ate. And we drank. And we ate and drank some more. And we celebrated everything that we had done that day and celebrated the fact that the refugees are welcome. I know my person is proud that she lives in a City of Sanctuary. Sunderland is also such a city and that is a brilliant thing.
Yes. We ate and drank. But not all of us did. Some of those walking with us, some of those brave refugees, ate and drank nothing. Those people were Muslims and they follow Islam. One of the important things in Islam - it's one of the five pillars of that religion - is fasting. It's not just the giving up of food and drink, there's a lot more meaning to it than that. During the year, my person told me, they have a month of fasting in the calendar month when they believe the Qu'ran was revealed to their prophet. For the whole of that month they fast from all food and drink from sunrise to sunset. Our epic walk had taken place in that month. While we snacked and had lunch they ate nothing. While we feasted at the banquet they ate nothing. And the month was in the middle of summer. It would be a long fast. It's true that each of them was given a banquet to take away with them. But they would still have many hours to wait before they could eat. Isn't that amazing?
I ate a lot of course. Here are the remains of just a fraction of my eating. Lots and lots of fruit because my person and I are just extremely healthy people. Honest. We are. And I don't see her butting into my blog and correcting me at this point so she obviously wants to give the impression of health too.
Here's a photo taken by the minister. These are many of the intrepid walkers. And a few of those who welcomed us into the sanctuary of Christ Church.
Walking with these people had been one of the best days of my life and I hadn't even nearly been eaten by a shark. It's always a bonus for the day to not be eaten by a shark.
It was time to go. My person had somewhere else she needed to be and I was going to go there too. We planned to go and sing at a rally for refugees. I posted something about that when it happened. We arrived back into Newcastle and there was just time for us to walk from there to the place of the rally. More walking. After an epic trek my person made me walk some more. To get to the rally we had to cross back over the River Tyne. But this time there was a bridge.
The view from The Tyne Bridge is brilliant. From here you can clearly see the Tyne swing bridge, and beyond it there are more bridges.
We arrived at the rally. We sang our hearts out and I do think perhaps my person should go and sing with those people again. The media took lots of pictures of us and filmed us but then, because the media is a very biased creature, we were hardly mentioned anyway apart from by one media outlet who said that some children had gathered to protest, and they included a picture of some of the stupendous children who were with us. That's the way the media often are. They skew reality so much that anyone who experienced it can hardly recognise that the event they lived through is the same one that's been reported.
I shared this photograph in my post about the rally. I still say it. I stand with refugees. And I stand for each of those four words on the placard. Sometimes it is hard to hope. But we must hold onto hope and, if we are able, work for a future where compassion, decency and humanity are at the centre of all we do, and where "loving one another" is at the centre of the way we live. That's what I think anyway. I may only be a small pink soft toy with an active imagination, but it's what I think and believe and it's how I try to live my life as a friend.
Tomorrow I'll be talking about a different subject. I've got a lot of adventures to choose from. I keep having more of them too. My life is amazing. And now I have a sister to share it with. I love my sister.
[1883 words]
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