This week I was reminded about my time training to be a reporter at Newcastle when I found some old photos in one of my shoe boxes of memories.
And I have to say I had the time of my life working in that city.
It’s hard to believe it was a long time ago as I can remember walking into the huge newsroom of The Newcastle Evening Chronicle as if it was yesterday.
Boy was I nervous, so many reporters, so much energy in the room, I felt like running back out the door.
But I stayed and for six months learned how to be a reporter.
We split our days between training sessions and actually being out on stories for the Chronicle.
Iremember being told by the features desk editor to go and walk the streets and come back with a story.
As luck would have it I found a community centre, tucked away down a side street and there was a great youth worker who gave me some brilliant stories.
By day we worked, by night, I trawled the shops, the eating places and had some brilliant nights out.
Mind you, there wasn’t that much time for relaxation as most nights I would be sitting plugged into my shorthand tapes determined to crack it.
As usual I’m not very good at keeping up with people and I often wonder where the other reporters ended up working, some of them were so talented, I was always in awe of them.
Great days, a truly big adventure and while most of the time I was living on my nerves, I loved it.