How many people do you think still visit Sunderland city centre during the pandemic?

Go on, admit it – at some point in time you have pretended to be your favourite movie star or actor.
Watch more of our videos on Shots! 
and live on Freeview channel 276
Visit Shots! now

Perhaps you have stood in front of the mirror with a pair of sunglasses on and imagined yourself to be Arnold Schwarzenegger in The Terminator series.

Or maybe you have mentally waved your Harry Potter wand in the direction of someone who has got on your nerves and turned them into a fantastic beast while shouting “Expecto Patronum”.

Well finally, at the age of 51, it was my turn.

Socially-distanced queues of shoppers in Fawcett Street, Sunderland, earlier this week.Socially-distanced queues of shoppers in Fawcett Street, Sunderland, earlier this week.
Socially-distanced queues of shoppers in Fawcett Street, Sunderland, earlier this week.
Hide Ad
Hide Ad

Blessed by neither good looks or acting ability – although the odd colleague insincerely insists I do a passable impression of a journalist – I was never destined for a career on stage or screen.

Three nights as a stilted Gang Show narrator in Snow White and the Seven Dwarves at the Sunderland Empire in 1978 was about as good as it ever got.

Tuesday of this week was going to be different though.

Tuesday of this week was going to be the day I cruised through Sunderland’s empty city centre streets like Charlton Heston through a deserted Los Angeles in the opening scenes of 1971 post-apocalyptic movie The Omega Man (younger readers might want to recall Will Smith in 2007 remake I Am Legend).

A notice on a door at The Borough pub, in Vine Place, Sunderland, during the ongoing pandemic.A notice on a door at The Borough pub, in Vine Place, Sunderland, during the ongoing pandemic.
A notice on a door at The Borough pub, in Vine Place, Sunderland, during the ongoing pandemic.

Except it didn’t quite turn that way.

A little background before I continue.

The reason for my visit was not to gawp ghoulishly at a ghost town already struggling with rampant online competition.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

Neither was it initially to research this article in a city where more than 1,200 people have already contracted covid-19.

Quite simply there was a family banking issue which could not be sorted out either electonically or over the phone and which requiried a physical visit to a branch.

Parking was the easy bit with gaps aplenty in the usually car-crammed residential streets on the edge of Ashbrooke.

Nor were there too many people to dodge as I walked down Albion Place and Vine Place towards Holmeside.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

An ill-advised left then right turn into Blandford Street heralded a different picture as a host of shoppers walked towards me while others formed orderly and socially-distanced queues to enter bargain food stores.

Negotiable, yes. But, a little like when you are driving on automatic pilot on a motorway, you need to be ready to slam your brakes on to avoid the odd dawdler (usually sidetracked by their mobile phones).

By now it was midday, the sun was out and so too were dozens of people in the pedestrianed Market Square.

Usually I wouldn’t give any of them a second glance.

On Tuesday, however, I found myself subconsciously weighing up their very reasons for being in the city centre while watching carefully to see if they were going to suddenly foxtrot to my left or right.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

What would they say if approached by a police officer? Did they have a more convincing explanation for their presence than myself?

Their answers, of course, may well be in the stars.

Sunderland city centre is not only the home of hundreds of shops and businesses.

It is also the home of hundreds of residents in the Astral House, Planet House and Solar House tower blocks which dominate its skyline.

Were I living so high up during this dreadful lockdown then I too would take every permissable opportunity to descend to base camp to enjoy some additional space on a warm day.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

Then it was another right turn – probably best to veer to your left first so you can see any oncoming pedstrian traffic – towards Fawcett Street.

There I was greeted by a snaking queue of around 20 customers again waiting patiently to enter my bank.

The branch even had two “bouncers” on the door to deal with any crowd control issues.

I stared intently at the pair’s faces in an attempt to gauge their mood.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

You may have done the same yourself on a plane with cabin crew during flight turbulence to double check if there is a genuine emergency or not.

On my last visit to Sunderland, just days before the March 23 nationwide lockdown, panic was visibly etched on many people’s glum faces as they hunted down scarce essentials such as toilet rolls and hand sanitisers.

On this occasion, however, both staff and customers appeared chatty and calm.

Even the seagulls – probably because they are deprived of their daily diet of additive-addled scraps – seemed a touch more polite.

Sunderland, it seems, is adjusting to its new norm.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

Surely that is a good thing? Well, I for one certainly do not pine for a return to the frantic scenes of less than two months ago when tempers frayed in shopping aisles.

But what we do not want is for complacency to creep in just because covid-19 death rates are coming down to as low as “only” 350 a day nationwide.

The ensuing wait outside the bank also allowed me to calculate how many people I’d spotted since leaving my car.

Combine the shop and bank queues with suited or uniformed workers out on their lunch, the odd skateboarder, some surprisingly busy buses plus those in the “any other business” category and the

number easily becomes hundreds.

Hide Ad
Hide Ad

Job done, I walked back up through the city centre to see if I could pick up a posh coffee or even some unexpected bargain at a shop I did not even realise was still open. Some hope.

With the exception of banks, pharmacies, health shops and the occasional bakery or takeaway, Sunderland city centre is largely and rightly closed for business with no need for people to currently visit

without good reason.

The trick is to conjure up some retail wizardry so that those hundreds swiftly become thousands when the pandemic finally ends.

Here’s hoping that, unlike The Omega Man, that particular script has a happy ending.

A message from the Editor:

Thank you for reading this story on our website. While I have your attention, I also have an important request to make of you.

In order for us to continue to provide high quality and trusted local news on this free-to-read site, I am asking you to also please purchase a copy of our newspaper.

Our journalists are highly trained and our content is independently regulated by IPSO to some of the most rigorous standards in the world.

But being your eyes and ears comes at a price. So we need your support more than ever to buy our newspapers during this crisis.

With the coronavirus lockdown having a major impact on many of our local valued advertisers - and consequently the advertising that we receive - we are more reliant than ever on you helping us to provide you with news and information by buying a copy of our newspaper.

Thank you.

How to subscribe to the print edition:

It’s easy to subscribe to your local newspaper. We have arranged a special 20 per cent off subscription offer for people to take advantage of.

Visit www.localsubsplus.co.uk, choose the newspaper title, the type of subscription and enter your details.

Related topics: