And so another fabulous week draws to its conclusion... But not before another marvellous (all be it, rather hot!) walk across the marshes to Cley-next-the-sea (pronounced Kly by the locals, like sky) - for morning coffee, croissants and to check out the smokehouse and the pottery. Although somehow "Pottery - Made in Cley" doesn't quite work when you discover how it is actually pronounced! But that didn't stop me parting with a few quid for a rather lovely dish, which we don't need and will doubtless struggle for cupboard space alongside all the other bits of pottery I have fallen in love with over the years! Nareesa, meanwhile raided the smokehouse for crab, mackerel and I'm not sure what else. I will presumably find out for Saturday evening dinner!
As I write the slightly mad (but loveably determined) fool I am married to is tramping on a few hundred extra kilometres, in training for her charity walk later this month. I just hope its not as hot as today when she and Eric take on the 45km they are now obliged to do to the tune of about a couple of thousand quid in sponsorship!
Given the heat, the rest of the day is likely to consist of reading, sleeping, reading, sleeping ... and if I can find the energy when the tide comes back in I might just consider a dip in the sea! Luckily by then I won't have time to update with pictures of beached whales.
Yesterday we took the half hour trip to Holkham - famous beach of endless sand and famous estate of the Earl of Larceny (it might have been Leicester - I'm not very good at listening to tales of the aristocracy). We've visited the beach many times in the past - but in the winter, when it is a wonderfully peaceful haven for long walks and contemplation. But on a hot day in August, it is a different matter entirely; it felt like most of North Norfolk had chosen to spend the day there. The narrow boardwalk from car park to the beach was reminiscent of the Oxford Street sales. We made it all the way to the sea (about 2km?) but then beat a hasty retreat and headed for the estate, just across the road. Holkham "Stories" was just about worth the admission fee (basically a posh name for a glorified small museum) and the walled garden was lovely, even if it somewhat surprisingly appeared to be in need of significant renovation.
Apparently English Heritage have donated £200k to fettle up the greenhouses - its tough being the landed gentry!
Last night we simply dined outside at the local pub, where they managed to charge 30 quid for a bean burger and sausage and chips - but with these views, perhaps they are entitled to!
And the night before?
I am sure you are all waiting to find out if our cycle ride to the Michelin pub ended in gastronomic heaven - or hospital! Well I am delighted to tell you that the Wiveton Bell is everything you would want from a a posh gastropub - service excellent, food excellent and we managed to negotiate our way back up the hill in the dark without falling off. And that's despite me having to sample the port! And that ultra rich, merchant banker (sorry I meant that generous...) Rishi Sunak gave us 20 quid off! Don't get me started on this gimmick - the government that can find £500 million for people like me, who don't need it, to have a slightly cheaper posh meal out but had to be persuaded by a premier league footballer to cough up £120 million for free school meals for the most needy in out society. If that doesn't tell you whose side they are on, nothing will!
Well I think that will do for another blog. Feels like a long time since I did this - I guess because it is. New Year in Canada was our last trip (I am of course ignoring a ski trip), and that began last year, before anyone had heard of Covid-19.
Blakeney has been a fabulous place to spend a week. Admittedly helped by superb weather but it is a village with everything you could want - a sea/river frontage, a couple of quaint shops, an art gallery, a couple of good pubs and good restaurants. And lots of places to walk and/or cycle. What's not to like. And judging by the number of kids covered in mud each evening down by the quay they seem to love it too.
Depending on the state of local lockdowns, infection rates and our confidence in travel arrangements, I am hoping to substitute a planned motorbike trip to Colorado in September with one closer to home - the wonderful and diverse island we call home - Great Britain. Including Scotland and the North Coast 500 if Nicola Sturgeon will let us in! But that is for another day, it might be a non-starter, but if we do get going I hope to bring you news of 3 idiots on the road again...
Bye for now. I'll close with yet another wonderful sunset (from the pub garden)
