There is a sea change in British take-away food. A new trend is sweeping this great British institution. This is in the form of Halal Meat.
When I walked past the shops, looking for something to eat in Newcastle, on every advertising board, somewhere was written Halal Something.
Kebab with Halal meat
Full English Breakfast with Halal meat
Fish 'n Chips and Halal Food
Halal Parmesan (a Middlesbrough delicasy - deep fried chicken in breadcrumbs topped with a bechamel sauce, more cheese then grilled in a pizza pan)
Even the closed up butty van parked in the coach park had written on it:
Tea Coffee Burgers Hot Dogs Cold Sandwiches and Halal Burgers.
An astounding change. Now it could be good if the meat is supplied by Newcastle's Muslim Butchers. They have good quality meat and are artists. I like visiting these shops to see how they beautifully chop up various cuts of meat.
Whether the food was Halal or not certainly would not have been a concern to the two very drunk men I observed leaning against the stone pillars of the Central Station, as I picked up my well behaved party at 3am. They were farting and belching as they struggled to figure out where the taxis were and where the hell they, themselves were.
They were similar to two fat choristers my father used to tell me about, who would make loud gurgling noises as they marched into the school chapel. They were named Rumblebelly and Thunderpants.
The Geordie version of Rumblebelly and Thunderpants suddenly leapt into some sort of life. They had spied me and my bus and maybe had thought it was their last chance of a free ride. They moved surprisingly fast and I had to take evasive action, closing the door quickly and driving off.
I watched them in my mirror as the bus gathered momentum. They overbalanced and fell into the gutter, still making rumbling and thundering noises, but gradually being replaced by staccato obscenities.
It was good to be heading back to the countryside.
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