Norfolk, East Anglia, lost...what's it to be?

Saturday morning and off we set, a good 10 minutes after our designated time of departure…criminal! Four minutes down the road we stop for petrol and discover Glenn has once again forgotten his wallet; once again he is incredulous. Around we turn, back to home, get wallet, rinse and repeat. A great discussion ensued about why James was taking us in the direction he was, but unbeknown to us, one of us had a VERY skewed idea of where Norwich was. Can you guess? Well he thought it was in the covey bit directly to the right of London, so as we argued with James, we did it for completely different reasons. I just couldn’t see why he was taking us West to go east. Turned out he was avoiding the city…pity he couldn’t avoid…roads! Anyway, trusty James (Fanny has been retired due to dementia) has us at our first stop at about 10.25; and what a stop it is. Castle Rising Castle, in the village of Castle Rising, that’s a mouthful, is not terribly striking as you pull into the car park, but as you approach and see the stepth (word invented by me) of the sides of this amazing keep, and the moat below, it takes your breath away. 

It was begun in 1138 by William D’albini for his new wife, the widow of Henry l and later became the exile of Queen Isabella, widow and alleged murderess of Edward ll. The towering walls of the castle rise up within the belly of the keep unlike any others we have seen and it’s a bit like opening a kinder surprise. The wind was gusting as we walked around the top of the motte. And several of the photographs are blurry because it was impossible to keep steady. 

Glenn preached an ancient sermon in the old Norman church which was displaced when the castle was built…some people have no respect! And onward, inside the castle we were once again astounded by the massiveness not just of the structure itself, but every stone that was laid. A passage takes you along to the kitchen where we roasted some fine tofu for lunch, but it is deceiving because it was not originally here, I’m not sure how they got to the kitchen in the beginning, but this passage was added in Queen Isabella’s time by excavating the actual outer wall. Imagine having walls that thick, at least you wouldn’t hear the neighbours screaming at each other! 

A bit of tomfoolery must be had so here’s video of Glenn running, somewhat sideways down the steep hill (couldn't get that to load, maybe Glenn can sort it out),and, holding what he estimated to be about a 30kilo cannon ball from the 15^th C, and all without hurting himself…no, wait, that’s me who always manages to hurt myself isn’t it. Also he was worried about me blowing away so....

Now it was at this time that we realised we had just a little too much on our itinerary for today and something had to be culled. The overzealous man at Castle Rising had stolen 10 minutes of our day telling us about Binham Priory which had originally been on our list but then crossed off. However, his enthusiasm and the fact that it was more on the way to our prioritised destination, swung in its favour and off we went. It didn’t disappoint and again we found ourselves standing amongst the ruins of a Benedictine priory which towered above us in a way that beetles don’t. 

Whilst the monastery itself has crumbled, the church lives on and is still the parish church. Glenn set the camera for a pic of us together; digital cameras are amazing because without them, it would appear as though I was the only one doing all these things, but the wind got the better of the poor thing and, well, here’s a nice picture of the sky.

Pleased with our choice, onward we went to Baconsthorpe Castle. I particularly wanted to see this one because in our English Heritage book it shows that there is still a full moat around the perimeter and somehow that seems pretty special after 600 odd years. We started to feel a bit discouraged about what we might find though as the roads leading in were little used and full of tracks left by the local farmers whose piles of manure etc lined the road. We couldn’t have been more wrong! It was a spectacular sight and once again we were lucky enough to be here on our own...those who know us well would know we aren’t too good at sharing when it comes to holidays. 

This is a moated manor house built by the Heydon family who, it turns out, was one of the guys who kept changing sides in the war of the Roses (Battle of Bosworth) and the family eventually had to abandon it due to debts; serves them right I say. Their descendants turned it into a textile factory and it was inhabited until the 1920’s. it is sad to see how much it has disintegrated in such a short time when compared with Roman remains but it was a delight to wander amongst the walls, see the swans, ducks and geese, oh and Glenn, in the moat (lucky those boots work).

Onward Ho to Norwich, which once again was underestimated in size and madness of roads and their navigability. 2 O’clock on a Saturday afternoon is probably not the best time to go through the high street of the county’s major centre, but what did we know? Norwich Castle had not originally been on our itinerary but the website said it was a must do, so we paid 6pounds, coz English Heritage don’t own this, they just give us 2 for 1 and almost as soon as the money had left our hands we knew it was a mistake. Oh dear. Its great hall was awesome in size but the rest of the building has been refurbished as a modern museum and you get no sense of the true purpose of the building from inside its walls.

 We agreed that it sucked. In fact, the pic of glenn sitting was a request to show everyone just what he though of it; it's a toilet! We also agreed that it was fantastic for children to be introduced to history as it had lots of things set up for them and then we left. A walk around the outside proved no improvement so we opted for a speedy exit, never to speak of it again. James failed to put Glenn in the right lane for our turn to get to our accommodation so we saw the high street twice more, but then it was just an easy 2 mins, turn into Eastham rd and there we were at the lovely Governor’s residence; albeit a long way from where James was still telling us we had to go! (remember this, you’ll need it later).

There is no reception at these apartments. You are given a code and you let yourself in. We had been told room 55. The wall said 52,53,54 outside. Inside 51,50,49. Hmm where was 55? The veins in Glenn’s temple started bulging as we drove into the next lot of buildings, also managed by BJM group but we knew it wasn’t right because we had been told the Governor’s House. A quick phone call by me because Glenn said if he did it he would get aggressive (do we all remember the man at the London experience girls and boys? Who told Glenn in 2009 ‘There’s no need to get aggressive sir’). Well, apparently room 55 is inside, with 49, 50 & 51 but the wall doesn’t tell you this. Why? We can only assume it’s so they don’t confuse people with the numbering system hmmm. Anyway, it’s a delightful room with the bathroom probably being in an old entrance as there are stained glass windows alongside the old door. Not a very comfy bed and too few pillows but it’ll do for one night. What to do about dinner? We set off on   a walking exploration, took some pics of the cathedral which was directly behind the Governor’s,

got blown to smithereens and found nowhere to get food. So, back to get the car to try and find a nearby chip shop. Round and round we went until at last we found one, got our food and headed home; well, I say headed home because we had James right? Well, what we didn’t realise from earlier was that there are two Eastham roads, one where we want to go and one in the opposite direction; guess where he took us. After Glenn realised we were getting further away from the city, he cleverly suggested we programme in the cathedral and before long we were safely ensconsed in our room with nary a roundabout (with traffic lights! What the?) in sight. With soggy chips in hand we perused the photos of our day and agreed that it had been a very good one.

Think it was exhausting..too right it was...but, stay tuned for day two of Norfolk.