the rest of the trip . . .
Sep. 18th, 2006 09:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chelseagirlFirst (and with any luck last) headcold of the year -- yuck! Or as I'd currently pronounce it, yuggk. Tonight I've got a class that runs from 6-9; at least we have a guest lecturer, so I can get away with my low energy level. I've promised to go for a drink with said lecturer and his wife after, and don't want to miss that, but the beverage I'm currently most interested in is hot tea with honey and lemon.
Anyway, the rest of the trip was a lot more low-key; we spent some time in Hertfordshire with some of M's friends, and discovered that M's favorite gastropub down thataways had changed chefs and owners, which meant that the life-changing beef Wellngton he'd promised was just okay, and actually inferior to M's efforts in that respect. (Pity I was still a vegetarian last time we ate there.)
Norfolk! How do I love thee? Other than the preponderance of elderly drivers creeping along single-carriageway roads, there is nothing not to love. Norwich, where we went for shopping and sightseeing, is just an adorable city. There's a shopping arcade that dates back at least a century, and lovely old houses, and a canal. We skipped the cathedral, as we'd been there just last year, but wandered up a nearby road called (I believe) Elm Hill, where there's a coffeehouse that was used in filming Stardust as an inn -- quite adorable. Norwich is also where we went to get warmer clothes, since rumors of the heat-wave returning proved to be false, and the summer clothes we wear in New York weren't quite warm enough. And it's partly where we had fun doing some Doctor Who toy-shopping. Several folks on my f-list have already pointed out, quite fairly, that you can get a lot of good stuff on the Web, but it was so much fun going into the BBC shop and several toyshops tracking things down! There was also what billed itself as a Doctor Who shop in Holt, the little Georgian village where they do most of their errands (more on that below), where I finally bought M. his motorized Dalek; the proprietor also has an exhibit room in back, with lots of props and toys, though the merchandise was somewhat limited. Still the notion of a Doctor Who shop (it's primarily a printer's but this draws in the tourists and is clearly the owner's passion) tickled us.
So, lots of quiet country lanes (some of them literal -- this whole notion that you might have to pull to one side so traffic can pass coming in the opposite direction is a bit nervewracking), with hedgerows (Stairway to Heaven makes so much more sense now that I've been to Norfolk several times) and farms, and in some places, trees that grow over the road completely so that you're driving through a sort of tree-tunnel.
The first Sunday we didn't have any expeditions planned so I went to the little village church. Alas, the original church burned down in the 19th century and this was rebuilt in about 1928, but it was still neat to attend. (The rector, who is shared by several parishes, promised a Norman church in a neighboring village the next weekend, but I said I wasn't sure if my in-laws would have an expedition planned that day, and in fact, they did.) The ruined church is quite impressive as well -- only the tower still stands and it's been completely overgrown by trees, ivy, whatever. Got some neat pictures but the light conditions weren't optimal, but next time . . . I said to M. wasn't it a perfect object lesson of the persistance of nature over outside insitutitions. (I imagine some of my pagan friends would agree in particular! M. is a sort of non-practicing pagan and he did.)
Lovely seaside villages -- especially Blakeney, which is right on some estuaries and where the public parking lot becomes hazardous at particular high tides. We had a pub lunch there on our next-to-last day and I lost my heart to a sweet little handthrown teapot, which I then had to carry back wrapped in bubble wrap in my handbag for fear of breakage. To be fair, I think I was just falling-apart sentimental that day, but it is an adorable little teapot. Turns out that although they have this display case with a local potter's wares, it's rare anyone actually purchases any and so making the purchase turned out to be quite a project, as they sent people back and forth looking for keys.
Sheringham, where Susan and Peter like to walk on the beach, was another day, where I was fascinated by the breakwaters they build on the beach. M. wondered why we don't have them in America; I suggested that Americans have a notion that they want their beaches untrammelled; as a result of which we sacrifice the erosion control and have to constantly dump imported sand onto erotding beaches. That plus a lovely old teashop selling many used books. (I succumbed to a rather elderly Dickens.)
And Holt, the Georgian town which is both tourist trap and where they do most of their errands. Parking is a severe problem there; the council wants to build a carpark outside of town with a shuttle, but nobody can quite get their act together. At one point, Peter and I went in to do errands; he couldn't park anywhere so he dropped me off and parked on the outskirts of town. (Which was fine for me, but Susan is in poor-ish health and probably couldn't have walked that far; hence they make sure to get to Holt right at 9am when the shops open.) I remember suggesting to Peter and the gentleman who ran the village fish and chips shop that if we couldn't park to pick up some bubble wrap we needed for packing (M. was at home doing the packing), maybe there was a shopping plaza outside of town? And they laughed at how very American I am and said the nearest one of those was in Norwich, 45 minutes away. (And yes, I have been to malls in England so I know they exist, but still . . . duh.)
And that's pretty much it, except for getting my seat moved on the plane back due to the extreme 6 foot 8 and proportionate bulkiness of the passenger on my other side (and the fact that they took away leg-room from some of the seats to wire the video-on-demand feature into the seatbacks).
Anyway, the rest of the trip was a lot more low-key; we spent some time in Hertfordshire with some of M's friends, and discovered that M's favorite gastropub down thataways had changed chefs and owners, which meant that the life-changing beef Wellngton he'd promised was just okay, and actually inferior to M's efforts in that respect. (Pity I was still a vegetarian last time we ate there.)
Norfolk! How do I love thee? Other than the preponderance of elderly drivers creeping along single-carriageway roads, there is nothing not to love. Norwich, where we went for shopping and sightseeing, is just an adorable city. There's a shopping arcade that dates back at least a century, and lovely old houses, and a canal. We skipped the cathedral, as we'd been there just last year, but wandered up a nearby road called (I believe) Elm Hill, where there's a coffeehouse that was used in filming Stardust as an inn -- quite adorable. Norwich is also where we went to get warmer clothes, since rumors of the heat-wave returning proved to be false, and the summer clothes we wear in New York weren't quite warm enough. And it's partly where we had fun doing some Doctor Who toy-shopping. Several folks on my f-list have already pointed out, quite fairly, that you can get a lot of good stuff on the Web, but it was so much fun going into the BBC shop and several toyshops tracking things down! There was also what billed itself as a Doctor Who shop in Holt, the little Georgian village where they do most of their errands (more on that below), where I finally bought M. his motorized Dalek; the proprietor also has an exhibit room in back, with lots of props and toys, though the merchandise was somewhat limited. Still the notion of a Doctor Who shop (it's primarily a printer's but this draws in the tourists and is clearly the owner's passion) tickled us.
So, lots of quiet country lanes (some of them literal -- this whole notion that you might have to pull to one side so traffic can pass coming in the opposite direction is a bit nervewracking), with hedgerows (Stairway to Heaven makes so much more sense now that I've been to Norfolk several times) and farms, and in some places, trees that grow over the road completely so that you're driving through a sort of tree-tunnel.
The first Sunday we didn't have any expeditions planned so I went to the little village church. Alas, the original church burned down in the 19th century and this was rebuilt in about 1928, but it was still neat to attend. (The rector, who is shared by several parishes, promised a Norman church in a neighboring village the next weekend, but I said I wasn't sure if my in-laws would have an expedition planned that day, and in fact, they did.) The ruined church is quite impressive as well -- only the tower still stands and it's been completely overgrown by trees, ivy, whatever. Got some neat pictures but the light conditions weren't optimal, but next time . . . I said to M. wasn't it a perfect object lesson of the persistance of nature over outside insitutitions. (I imagine some of my pagan friends would agree in particular! M. is a sort of non-practicing pagan and he did.)
Lovely seaside villages -- especially Blakeney, which is right on some estuaries and where the public parking lot becomes hazardous at particular high tides. We had a pub lunch there on our next-to-last day and I lost my heart to a sweet little handthrown teapot, which I then had to carry back wrapped in bubble wrap in my handbag for fear of breakage. To be fair, I think I was just falling-apart sentimental that day, but it is an adorable little teapot. Turns out that although they have this display case with a local potter's wares, it's rare anyone actually purchases any and so making the purchase turned out to be quite a project, as they sent people back and forth looking for keys.
Sheringham, where Susan and Peter like to walk on the beach, was another day, where I was fascinated by the breakwaters they build on the beach. M. wondered why we don't have them in America; I suggested that Americans have a notion that they want their beaches untrammelled; as a result of which we sacrifice the erosion control and have to constantly dump imported sand onto erotding beaches. That plus a lovely old teashop selling many used books. (I succumbed to a rather elderly Dickens.)
And Holt, the Georgian town which is both tourist trap and where they do most of their errands. Parking is a severe problem there; the council wants to build a carpark outside of town with a shuttle, but nobody can quite get their act together. At one point, Peter and I went in to do errands; he couldn't park anywhere so he dropped me off and parked on the outskirts of town. (Which was fine for me, but Susan is in poor-ish health and probably couldn't have walked that far; hence they make sure to get to Holt right at 9am when the shops open.) I remember suggesting to Peter and the gentleman who ran the village fish and chips shop that if we couldn't park to pick up some bubble wrap we needed for packing (M. was at home doing the packing), maybe there was a shopping plaza outside of town? And they laughed at how very American I am and said the nearest one of those was in Norwich, 45 minutes away. (And yes, I have been to malls in England so I know they exist, but still . . . duh.)
And that's pretty much it, except for getting my seat moved on the plane back due to the extreme 6 foot 8 and proportionate bulkiness of the passenger on my other side (and the fact that they took away leg-room from some of the seats to wire the video-on-demand feature into the seatbacks).
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-09-18 02:32 pm (UTC)I wanna go back to the UK!
no subject
Date: 2006-09-18 02:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-18 05:58 pm (UTC)It sounds as if Norfolk was just lovely -- and relaxing as well!
I must return to Norwich next summer; I've not been there since '99, and I do remember Elm Street!
no subject
Date: 2006-09-19 11:40 am (UTC)Norfolk was just so pleasant. I found myself wanting to get a job in Norwich and stay. Oh well.
It's Elm Hill (although it *is* a street; and I'm not sure if there are any elms on it ;-) ); so pretty! Even M. who is not as enchanted by cityscapes as I am, kept taking pictures.
no subject
Date: 2006-09-19 04:42 pm (UTC)Yes, Elm Hill. Duh. I knew that. I don't have a brain. This place.
http://www.edp24.co.uk/Content/Features/SpookyNorfolk/asp/Norwich/ElmHill.asp