Slime on the Tyne is All Mine, All Mine

Gloomy day today.  Gloomy enough for trousers and long sleeves. (Also gloves and raincoats, but I didn't discover that until it was too late to turn back)  I went down to the Quayside market to look at the stalls.

There were stalls of things I didn't want, like pet toys and dreamcatchers and cupcakes made of soap. 
There were stalls of things I did want, like retro metal signs and second-hand books and cupcakes made of cake and icing and edible glitter.

I didn't buy a thing, and soon I got to the end of the market and thought "Well, since I'm here I might as well go for ride along the river, since it's flat."  It put me in mind of another day, last summer, just as gloomy as today, when I went to the Quayside market with my friend Alice, and after we'd bought some cupcakes to take home to Simon and Ruth, we walked miles and miles up the river, and the landscape got gloomier and grimmer the further we walked, and I took lots of gloomy pictures of the grimness.

  This derelict building makes me giggle.  It's a lubricants factory, of all the greasy, smelly, dismal things, but it's painted bright 1950s turquoise and pink, with snazzy stripes and cheerful bubble lettering for its logo. 

Anyway, I didn't get as far as Elswick, Grimness Capital of the North East (I don't think the sun ever shines there, based on my experience) because it began to rain, and also adventuring wasn't as much fun without Alice to talk to, so I came home, chilly and slightly damp, with achy legs.  I think a nice vintage film is called for for the rest of today.  Hmm, black-and-white to match the grey tones of the river, or kitschy '50s in honour of the Ovoline factory?!