But let us begin with a confession. I was made a northerner, not born one.
In an act betraying serious lack of consideration, my mother gave birth to me not in south-west Durham, the part of the region where I grew up, but in a sedate resort of the kind to which most people go to die. I breathed my first air in Hove.
So that's the skeleton out of the cupboard without delay. My parents, who had lots of North Eastern family connections (mainly Ryhope, Tynemouth and parts of Newcastle), moved to Shildon only a few months into my life. It was the least they could do.
And there I stayed for my entire childhood and, indeed, into early adulthood.
When I moved away, it was first to Stanley, the north-west Durham one, and then to Darlington and finally to Newton Aycliffe. Marriage to a French lady who likes the North East but not as a place to live, soon led me back south - London, then Bristol, then London again.
In 2004, we moved to Paris. After three-and-a-half years spent there and in the south of France, we returned to London, but only for as long as it took for me to organise another departure, this time to Abu Dhabi. It is a long way from Shildon, though as you will discover in my very next posting, Shildon has a habit of catching up on you wherever you go.
What is the purpose of Salut! North? Well, despite my unfortunate origins, I regard myself as a Durham lad. Wherever marriage and work have taken me, I have still felt at home when back in the region. And I want to write about memories and events connected with it just as I write about football, folk music and France (and, now, the Middle East).
Parts of the North East are unrecognisable from my youth. My parents are long dead and only my sister (Middlesbrough) and one cousin (Whitley Bay), and parts of their families, remain. But I still get a thrill boarding a flight to Newcastle or Teesside or climbing on to the train at Kings Cross. I love being in the company of my many friends who still live in that Far Corner of the country.
Never for a second have I thought of giving up being a fervent supporter of Sunderland AFC, a lifelong passion that began when since my dad took me to see them play at Middlesbrough and Brian Clough scored the winner (for us, not them). Why, I even keep a season ticket for no better reason than it's for one of the best matchday vantage points at the Stadium of Light. And never for a second have I truly considered myself a southerner.
Come back and visit this site from time to time if you think you would enjoy reading about the workingmen's club trip, the wagon works hooter, the paper round, reminiscences of a wasted grammar school place and the rest.
I have a demanding job, helping with the launch of a new newspaper in Abu Dhabi, and a busy life. It is anyone's guess how often I will be able to add new items. But I hope that in its small way, Salut! North will add to the great fund of writing that already exists about the North East and prove of interest to anyone familiar with the region.
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