IT was the young people, hundreds and hundreds of them, that first struck those of us escaping the pouring afternoon rain and entering this Victorian public hall packed out not for a rock star but, instead, a recently obscure, bearded, left-wing politician.

It's not as if Jeremy Corbyn, a man, who is, plainly, no evangelist and, at 66, is not exactly a boy band-type candidate for sex symbol of the year.

He didn't bound on stage, didn't and shout, scream or exhort revolution. Instead, the pensioner ambled on and began by mildly expressing an interest that classical composer Sir Edward Elgar had once had his music performed at this Middlesbrough Town Hall venue.

It was an almost comically low key way to start after all the cheering and chants of "Jez we can".

But, slowly, the passion began to emerge, and the populist statements began to be made. The crowd, which included many other pensioners - one or two even reading The Socialist Worker under the left-wing banners - and middle-aged folk alongside the youthful, couldn't wait to cheer his more traditonal pronouncements.

"We need to end end policies being made up around the dining tables of the elite in our society," he says to major applause.

"It wasn't nurse, teachers, refuse workers or anybody working hard who crashed our economy in 2008 - it was the banks." More cheering.

He moves on from the obviously popular issues and risks speaking in support of the refugees trying to get into the country at Calais, strongly condemning the Prime Minister for comparing them to "a swarm." The cheers are even louder.

His speech over and the inevitable standing ovation out of the way, Mr Corbyn takes questions from the audience. Some declare themselves trade unionists, another makes clear her disapproval of Tony Blair.

He goes on to talk about more obscure, dull subjects that may not normally be expected to excite a typical 20-year-old: trade union reform, "secretive" trade negotiations called the Trans Atlantic and Investment Partnership, the arms trade. The atmosphere quietens, becomes respectful rather than raucous for a period.

Some issues, not often talked about by more typically mainstream politicians like better support for people with mental health, break through do get serious applause.

It's all a long way from the stage managed events of the political parties from before the General Election. In that election image conscious politicians like Labour's Ed Balls was seen hiding behind a leaflet in Redcar so he could lick a lemon top ice-cream in peace without worrying an unflattering photograph. Journalists on the North-East beat complained that every political word was carefully chosen, there was little to report, the public bored.

Visits from relatives mavericks like Nigel Farage and Boris Johnson, who gave the impression of speaking their minds, were seized on. Visits from the big guns like the Prime Minister and Ed Miliband were boring, dutiful affairs by comparison.

Corbyn's speech over, a couple of people try the "Jez we can" chant again.

"This isn't America," someone shouts. The chanting stops and everyone, young and old, file out in orderly fashion. No-one is too carried away.