Summer seems to be with us: today is bright and warm, and Dot has just left for Metfield for a session with Barbara. Yesterday the weather was similar, and Dot and I had a go at cutting the hedge, with reasonable results. Of course we can’t reach the other side of the top…
Despite the bad weather forecast, we had a good weekend at Blakeney with Julia, Dave, Alan and Rosemary. The promised rain did not materialise except when we were at the hotel, and on the Sunday, when we visited Felbrigg Hall for the first time, it was actually warm and dry.
Interesting place, and more to see inside than I had anticipated. I tracked down the picture of William Paston and his crocodile, though it was hard to distinguish the latter, because the light fell badly. Outside there are lovely grounds that we intend to explore another time, but we did have a long look at the magnificent walled garden, which includes allotments hireable by locals – a great idea.
The previous day, when we’d been expecting rain following downpours in Norwich and on the journey on the Friday, we got away with a dark sky and not much else. We did a walk at North Creake. Halfway round were the ruins of Creake Abbey, which I’d never visited, and nearby some shops and a cafe rather beautifully presented.
After stopping for refreshment we started on the second half of the walk, but Dot was feeling her ankle; so she returned to the shops and cafe while we completed the circle, which included some rough walking over fields that she did well to avoid. After more refreshment, we popped into the rather impressive church and bought some jam, then headed home by way of Big Blue Sky, which seems to have shifted its focus away from books. Still a nice shop, though.
The hotel at Blakeney had been hit by the floods earlier in the year but had recovered well: the food was still good (especially the breakfasts), and as usual we brought the average age of residents down a bit. As usual we started the weekend with tea in the upstairs lounge at the Blakeney Hotel, with its stunning views and first-class scones.
On the Monday both Dot and I had appointments in Blakeney: she had been asked to go to the local church school to assist them in preparation for an inspection, and I called in on Godfrey Sayers, a water colour artist who has written a book on the area, where he has lived almost all his life. He has a house and rambling garden in Wiveton, and the caravan that used to be on the carnser in Blakeney displaying his pictures is now parked there. I have no idea how he got it to the inaccessible spot that it stands in. I asked him, and he said: “Land Rover.” I decided not to pursue it.
He wants me to proof read (by which I think he means edit) his book, and I took it away with me. We talked about it, and about his job as flood warden for Wiveton, and it sounds fascinating. It sits in front of me now, demanding my attention. But so do many other things. I will get to it very soon.
After meeting at the school, Dot and I called in at Cley nature reserve for a scone and drink, plus a short walk, during which we saw a marsh harrier. The scone was a bit of a mistake, because we also called at Jessie’s, where a cake awaited. I was unable to eat much of it.
The Apple picture books I created for our Iona friends have arrived, and have been sent on their way. Quite pleased with them. In sport, a brilliant match between Belgium and the USA (well, the extra time bit, anyway), and a new star at Wimbledon: Nick Kyrgios, a 19-year-old Australian, blew Nadal away.
Had a good – though exhausting – weekend with David and Kristine. The exhaustion was largely because of an ill-advised trip to Brancaster on Sunday afternoon for lunch at the Ship Hotel. The lunch was good, but the service was slow, very much like the traffic on the way there and back. Caravans, motor homes and even cars all happy to poodle along at about 45mph.
That wouldn’t have mattered so much if we weren’t on a tight schedule, racing to get the Coomes back for their journey home. This all followed a rather nice Communion service, where the music went particularly well, despite our not having seen Phil for about a month. Obviously no practice is the key to success.
On the Saturday afternoon we took David and Kristine to Thurne for a short walk that turned out to be even shorter than anticipated when Dot had trouble with her ankle – very similar to the problem she had in Iona. Nevertheless it was a beautiful day, and Thurne was picturesque as always.
In the evening we went up for dinner at Jamie’s (prompted by our good experience in Glasgow). I drove the other three up because of Dot’s ankle problem, then took the car home and walked up. The meal was particularly good and quite reasonably priced, and the waiter was first class (as in Glasgow). The restaurant was very full: I was impressed with the way they had refurbished it to meld in with the Arcade decorations.
Yesterday was still very warm, though cloudier. There were even a few drops of rain as I headed up into the city to pay in some church cheques. Afterwards I walked round the Cathedral close a bit and then through the Cathedral. My ankle stood up quite well. In the cloisters they were removing evidence of filming for a forthcoming film, Tulip Frenzy.
After months of prevaricating, the TSB has now admitted that it can’t/won’t transfer all the church standing orders automatically, and I’ve had to contact all our givers to get them to change their details. It remains to be seen how many don’t bother, and how much we lose.
Today has been much duller, with one thunderstorm. I had been intending to go for a walk, but haven’t made it out, though I have cleared up some other longstanding to-do items, such as putting pictures in frames. I am now about to watch the final England World Cup game, to see if they can avoid a hat-trick of defeats.
<Pause> They did. It was a stunning, not to say boring, 0-0 draw. This was followed (on our TV-watching schedule) by England losing the Test Match – and series – against Sri Lanka with two balls to go. Still, a great century by Moeen Ali.
Just popped up to post a letter and was propositioned by a young woman. Long time since that’s happened.
The Cobbler (Ben Arthur) seen from the train between Oban and Glasgow. Dot and I climbed it on our honeymoon.
After walking over 30 miles last week, I have gone to the other extreme this week and not achieved more than about five so far – though this could increase marginally this weekend, because the Coomes are coming to visit. I have spent a great deal of time at my desk, but achieved a surprising amount.
The Chronicle script and book are both well progressed, and I’ve written a piece for Parish Pump as well as a few poems. Other than that, I’ve attended a PCC meeting, taken the MX5 in for servicing and MOT(at ten years old, it’s now too ancient to be covered by Mazda’s breakdown service) and paid the papers.
What else has happened? Oh yes, a “disgraced” England have been knocked out of the World Cup. Who could have seen that coming? Actually, they looked considerably better than they have in recent years, but still couldn’t take their scoring chances. Very similar to Norwich City, really.
It’s been pretty much a grey week, but today the sun is out; so we’re hopeful for a bit of summer. I saw the doctor yesterday: he’s still worried about my blood pressure. He’s not at all interested in the things I’m worried about, but that’s doctors for you. I felt more healthy in Iona than I do here. Perhaps I’ll go back.
Dot, with our holiday home, Erraid House, in the background and the abbey (deceptively close) behind.
I have just compiled a catch-up list which makes me want to go and lie down. Obviously I have to start here, because otherwise it would spiral out of control, and no-one wants that.
We are back from Iona. It went like this:
Friday 6 June
After an afternoon listening to Ilia Delio at St Luke’s ( I had brought our cases by car, taken the car home and walked back), we departed by taxi for the airport. All went smoothly there, and we flew to Manchester, where the airport was overcrowded, badly signed, muddled and slow. We eventually left a half an hour late and arrived in Glasgow 40 minutes late – too late to get a meal, because the Premier Inn restaurant (about half a mile away) had closed. We returned to the airport after dumping our bags and raided Tesco Express. By now I had discovered that the wheel on our case was broken, which meant I had to drag it. Not easy. Anna left her handbag containing all her money and all our tickets at the airport, discovering what she’d done as we approached the hotel. She ran back, and miraculously it was where she’d left it.
Saturday 7 June
We decided that it was simplest to pay for a taxi to Glasgow Queen Street station, where we had breakfast in Starbuck’s. Caught the 10.37 to Oban after momentary panic when I couldn’t find our tickets. Scenery spectacular – saw the Cobbler clearly. Arrived in Oban at 1.40, intending to get the 2pm ferry, but discovered this did not connect with the bus, so waited for the 4pm boat. Had magnificent mussels from stall on the pier, then Dot and I bought a new suitcase and transferred all our stuff into it, throwing the old one into a bin marked “Black bags only”. Well, it was mainly black. By this time it was starting to rain, and it got worse as we waited for the ferry in a crowded departure lounge. By the time we got off the ferry in Craigmure, Mull, 45 minutes later, it was pouring. We paddled to the bus and travelled across Mull to Fionnphort in heavy rain and a long line of cars, which did nothing for my mood. Walked to the ferry, which took just over ten minutes to get to Iona. Walked about a quarter of a mile to Erraid House, where we met Penny (Sydenham) and Ali (Bonner). Had prosecco and a vegetarian meal. House very pleasant, but no en suite. This worried me, but in fact it turned out fine. Had a short evening liturgy and were quite late in bed.
Sunday 8 June
Slept very badly, but the rain stopped. In the morning it was sunny and quite warm, but rather windy. Went to Pentecost Communion at the Abbey and had tea in the cloisters afterwards. Dot went to a talk about the community, but I wandered round the grounds and eventually went home to the loo. The two of us had lunch in the Argyll Hotel – mussels again, and very good too – then to the shop. Walked to the other side of the island and found the Machair – a kind of meadowland running into a beach of sand and rocks and amazingly saw some minke whales a few hundred yards offshore. For supper Ali cooked some excellent sausage and mash (I mashed). The girls went for a walk, and Howard and I took to our beds.
The highest point on Iona: Dun I
Monday 9 June
Another bad might: got up four times, and felt down in the morning. Fine day, though. Dot and I went to the shop to buy food to cook in the evening. Spent about £60 and contributed £60 to the kitty (plus another £40 later). After lunch at the house (everyone else was out), Dot and I walked up Dun I, the highest point on the island. (I=Iona). Then walked down to the north-east tip of the island, where there was a sparkling white beach beyond a meadow of buttercups and daisies. Bit of rain (lots over Mull), then we walked back, taking the main road behind the abbey, and bought a few more things at the shop for Dot’s recipe, plus some ice creams. Only Howard was home when we got back, and he was running a bath. Had a cup of tea. Dot cooked a lovely meal, and I read my poem, Failure to Connect. I think it failed to connect.
Tuesday 10 June
Got up too late to join the seven-hour pilgrimage round the island, but did our own thing. Walked to the Machair, and came upon Anna and Howard. Walked with them to Columba’s Bay, where we had sandwiches. Saw inuksuk/cairn. The rest of the pilgrimage group (including Penny and Ali) were already there, having come a different way. I climbed a little hill on the beach, then the four of us headed up and along the cliffs. We separated from Anna and Howard as quite heavy rain started, and we sheltered about 20 minutes, then climbed up and across quite boggy ground to the loch we had passed earlier. Met Liso, a woman we had met on the train and bumped into several times. Walked back across the Machair golf course and saw whales again; then back to house. Pretty wet, so had shower, then dozed on bed. Had healing session with Penny, and felt good afterwards – interesting sensations in my head: she said there was a lot going on there. Well, yes. Then had a meal at the restaurant on the quay… fish and chips, then pavlova. All just made it to healing service at Abbey at 9pm. Bed soon after. Walked over eight miles today.
Staffa – a magical island
Wednesday 11 June
Very wet to start with, but by the time the boat left for Staffa at 9.45 it had cleared, and the rest of the day was sunny and dry. Our wooden boat called at Fionnphort, then passed by some seals before heading for Staffa – a 45-minute journey with about 20 on board. Stunning island. Walked across basalt pillars to magnificent Fingal’s Cave, then climbed to top of island and saw puffins quite close up. We were last back to the boat (£30 each for trip, but excellent, informative crew). Had a largish lunch back at the house, then slept for almost two hours, which is unheard of. Meal at the Argyll Hotel in the evening was really good, especially my hogget pie. Talked a bit back at the house afterwards, but I went to bed when the musical talk got a bit esoteric. Played a couple of Pogues tracks as antidote, but not sure it worked, because I had another bad night.
Thursday 12 June
Dry to start with; misty rain from mid-afternoon. Bought postcards and a book on Staffa, then wrote postcards with tea and strawberry tart at quayside cafe. Bought stamps and posted cards, then walked to the Hermit Cell, which we found after one mistake (unlike Howard and Anna, who couldn’t find it at all the following day). Boggy path. When we were nearly there, Dot injured her ankle badly and could hardly walk. She hobbled to the Cell after a reconnoitre by me, and stayed there while I climbed to the top of a nearby hill. After asking for God’s help with her ankle, it improved markedly, and she was able to walk carefully back to civilisation (we saw no-one on the path to the Cell and back). We called at St Oram’s Chapel at the burial ground, the oldest building on the island. I found this very moving and lit candles for Joy and Lucy. Saw John Smith’s grave. On the way back bought ice cream, and banana jam. Back at house, had bath. Howard cooked the evening meal.
Dot paddling on the white beach
Friday 13 June
Rain and low cloud in the morning, but by lunchtime the rain had stopped, and it was still, though the cloud remained very low. Dot and I walked to a craft and jewellery outlet; in the former we discovered our next-door neighbour and had quite a long chat. In the latter we bought Dot an Iona ring – white with green tendencies. We walked on, and Dot bought coffee. At the end of the road (walking north), we turned left to the beach and then walked round the northern tip to the white sand beach, where Dot paddled. It was warm and still, and the tide was a long way out. On the way back we saw Penny and Ali ascending Dun I. Stopped at house, then went on to the quayside cafe for tea and strawberry tart. Watched Americans being ferried backwards and forward to a huge cruise ship, then back to the house. Meal by Anna.
Saturday 14 June
Fog first thing, but it soon cleared, though cloud remained low over Iona. Journey was fine, though, with clear skies for train journey from Oban. Bus trip across Mull revealed things unseen on our outward journey: beautiful countryside – sea and mountain. At Oban we had to wait an extra two hours for our train, because the one we had expected to get didn’t run on Saturdays. By this time I was getting a lot of pain from my ankle, which I had turned over while waiting for the ferry at Iona and was swollen quite badly. Fortunately I could still walk, with the aid of paracetamol. Dot and I had a drink with Howard while Anna walked up to a coliseum-like building overlooking Oban. Train left just after 4pm and got into Glasgow just after 7pm. The Millennium Hotel was just outside the station, shrouded in scaffolding and hosting a raucous wedding party. So that was all right. We all went out for a meal at Jamie’s in George Square, which was first class: started at a table outside, with great views, then finishing inside. Waiter extremely helpful, and food excellent. Anna had a Jamie’s gold card, which meant we got some free stuff too.
Sunday 15 June
Cloudy but dry. We had a day to spare in Glasgow. Anna and Howard had a breakfast meeting (unbelievably) with someone from the International Nepal Fellowship; so Dot and I breakfasted separately and took a 100 bus to the Riverside Museum after a long wait. Very good museum, including a mock-up of a Glasgow street and a Tall Ship moored in the Clyde behind, which we were able to explore. And all for free. Had lunch there before returning to pick up our luggage from the hotel and meet Howard and Anna (after a cup of tea). Bus to airport, and from there everything went smoothly until we reached Norwich airport, where we had a long wait for a taxi, eventually sharing one with two other guys, one headed for the Holiday Inn and the other for Rackheath. We dropped Howard and Anna off, then the Italian guy, and eventually reached Aspland Road, leaving Rackheath to sort itself out.
Monday 16 June
Quiet day, trying to catch up with unpacking, mail and holiday pictures. Also went to supermarket to buy food. Dot did lots of washing. In the evening David, Bridget and Judy came round for cake and compline. Vicky couldn’t come because she had killed a dog.
Chess problem: White to play and mate in two moves
Quite a nice meal at Prezzos on Monday with Angela and Rodney, but a bad night afterwards. As a result (possibly) I’ve been feeling fairly unenergetic all week, or maybe that’s normal. I’m saving all my energy up for Iona. We leave tomorrow.
I had a long list of things that had to be done, and amazingly I’ve done them. Too many to mention here, but one of them was preparing the Chronicle Oxnead book for David to have a look at, and another was putting the final touches to the performance script. There was also picking up pills from the chemist, paying in cheques in the city, buying a small rucksack, finding a couple of poems for the church world war one service in August and writing one myself, going to the supermarket, checking the bank statement and finding my glasses (in the washing machine). To be fair, Dot actually found them, but I took delivery. Amazingly, they seem to have survived intact.
The sun has come out this evening, but the weather over the last couple of days has been pretty miserable, with much greyness and rain. Dot had a hard time at a church school this afternoon trying to persuade staff that being a church school was a good idea, and this evening she is at another school, where she’s governor. Last night she was at orchestra, and today my Broadband went down. There is no connection between these things. As far as I know. It’s back now.
The luggage allowance for the flight tomorrow is rather challenging, but we’ll give it a shot. I shall take practically nothing – not absolutely nothing, because the forecast for Saturday is for heavy rain. In fact there’s rain in the forecast for every day we’re there, but at least it’s going to be warm. Assuming they’re right. Just what we want. Warm rain.
An exciting week, with two highlights: first, Oliver and Amy (that’s one), and second, the Suffolk Poetry Festival.
On Wednesday we headed for Caddington to collect the children for a short half-term stay with us: quite a while since they’ve been here on their own. The weather over the three days wasn’t ideal, but we had a great time around the house; so it didn’t matter. Table tennis came into its own, as did several other games, most of them invented by Amy. Dot even managed to fit in a blood test (before we went on the Wednesday) and an ECG (on the Wednesday afternoon).
We returned them on the Friday, managing to get them home by 1pm: they had a playdate with Chloe and Thomas in the afternoon. It’s all go for them too. Road works outside Luton are getting difficult, and as a result we found two new ways home: the first, on Wednesday, up the M1, along the A421, A1 and A428, joining the A14 at Cambridge – further but still quite quick; the second was a little detour round Stockwood Park, approaching the bedevilled roundabout from the less congested side. Much less congested, actually.
We had a slight alarm on the Tuesday, when after a huge downpour that lasted most of the morning we ended the day by finding water under the record player unit – not much, but it would have filled a bowl or two. Bit of a mystery: the walls were dry, the ceiling was dry, it was nowhere near the window, and we could only conclude that water had come down the chimney and through a gap where the floor joins the wall.
Unless it happens again, I shall treat it as a freak event and do nothing. I should imagine finding the gap and fixing it (if that is the problem) might be quite costly.
Earlier that day I had been to a PHS Trustees’ meeting at Mundesley. It was still raining hard, but not as bad as in the morning. I picked up Rob and gave him a lift. Lucy was not so good and told us that her cancer had returned. She will be having new treatment in a couple of months, but is soldiering on for now.
On Saturday we went to the Suffolk Poetry Festival in Stowmarket – chosen, I guess, for its easy access. Ho, ho. I was part of a small group from the Seagull poetry event, and I got to read three poems, plus a pentaptych tanka with Dot. This cost us £50, which represented £25 each entry to afternoon and evening of the festival.
I wasn’t over the moon about the money, but in fact I really enjoyed the day, partly because Caroline Gilfillan was one of the featured readers in the evening, and we were able to chat quite a lot. Other featured readers were Kate Foley (superb) and Luke Wright (totally off the wall and a great entertainer), but some of the other readers were good too. The weather was reasonable, and the journey no problem, though it took about an hour (roughly 40 miles). Dot was complimented on her reading and her jacket.
Yesterday afternoon Dot and and I went to Open Studios in Muspole Street, calling in briefly at St Peter Hungate first, as it was open. Saw Sophie Cabot, one of the trustees and a reader at the Julian Week. At Muspole Street we saw Martin Laurance, Lucy Edwards, Martin Mitchell and a couple of others artists – one printer and one jeweller. A warm day and a pleasant walk.
Today I’ve been to the supermarket, done a bit of catching up (but more to be done), then attended a Chronicle meeting at Fakenham, which left me with much more work toward the new Oxnead book and upcoming performance. I am about to have my hair cut, and then we will have a meal with Angela and Rodney at Prezzos to discuss A Ethel. Well, someone has to do it.
Dot, David and Chrissy on the boundary at Beechwood while Oliver played cricket
With rain promised for the rest of the week, Dot and I felt we had to take advantage of today’s sunshine and warmth; so after lunch we headed for North-East Norfolk. Once clear of the tourist hub of Wroxham we headed for the hamlet of Briggate, where we parked adjacent to Weavers’ Way. From there we walked across fields to Worstead and back – a round trip of about four miles. Quite pleasant.
We are now home and preparing to have two friends from church round for a meal as part of our “have two friends from church for a meal” project. Well, not exactly, but the church as a whole is trying to get to know each other better, though I suspect our congregation already knows each other better than most church congregations.
Yesterday we had the Bishop of Norwich for lunch. I suppose that could have been better phrased, but I sort of like it. It was basically a joint service at St Luke’s, at which Dot and I assisted with the music (Phil was a late withdrawal). Six hymns (three completely new to us) with Steve on lead guitar and Angela on keyboards. Also Dot and I (with help from Steve) did a couple of my songs during communion.
The Bishop did an excellent sermon and was even better on answering questions afterwards. We had a bring-and-share lunch that was more than adequate, and then those who were left (the Bishop having departed with Nicholas) had a shot at an exercise designed to reveal who was interested in doing what after Nicholas left for America. I suspect that “reveal”is not quite the word.
Working backwards, on Saturday we celebrated Anne’s birthday belatedly with an excellent meal at the King’s Head in Brooke. I had fishcake with egg, duck breast and a lovely dessert consisting of Malibu brûlée and mango sorbet. Very moreish.
Julia and Allan came for an evening meal with us on Friday. Dot did her latest lamb dish, which is delicious, and we had a made-up starter involving those little salmon thingies, grapes and toast, with strawberries dipped in chocolate to finish. Then we imposed our holiday pictures on them, but they didn’t seem to mind too much. Earlier in the day I had been rushing up to the bank in Magdalen Street to find out why a church cheque had bounced (they had neglected to amalgamate our two accounts as promised) before heading to the market to buy the strawberries.
Which brings us logically to last Thursday. In the morning I went by bus to the Norfolk and Norwich Hospital for a chest x-ray, which must have taken all of 15 minutes maximum (including waiting time), and in the evening we attended the Assembly House for a piano concert by Evelyne Berezovsky as part of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival. She was hot, and so was the Music Room. I had to rip off my jumper during a break between pieces, and other customers were also wilting.
Still, it is always worth visiting the Assembly House, because the toilets are first-class. When I say Evelyne Berezovsky was hot, I mean of course that she was a stunningly good pianist. I hope that’s clear.
Last Friday Dot and I spent much of the day in the city, including looking for presents for David (who was 42 on Sunday). In the end I ordered a couple from Amazon, because of the dearth of shopping satisfaction in Norwich. I also paid some cheques in for the church and didn’t have time to go to Diss for Annette’s first-year birthday celebration (her shop, not her).
Had a great time on a warm and sunny Saturday. Left quite early for Caddington and – alerted by text – called at David’s house to pick up some cooler clothes for him, Chrissy and Amy – who had travelled direct to Beechwood from their swimming, because Oliver was playing cricket. We arrived at the school to find Oliver at the wicket. He had scored nine runs, but unfortunately was out shortly after we got there. However we later saw him bowl someone out and do well in the field.
Meanwhile we were all having a go at Dot’s delicious picnic, which included prosecco. She had bought a cool bag the previous day, which was just as well, because it was pretty hot out there on the boundary, despite David’s tent. Later we had Indian back at Caddington and got home around 11.30pm. Chrissy learnt a lot about cricket and did a great Pavlova.
After church on Sunday we decided to forgo the pleasures of a ramble around Whitlingham Broad with the Archers and friends, and instead Dot and I walked to Phil and Joy’s to deliver a cheque to pay for Phil’s car use earlier in the week. It was hot, and we were tired, but we did go to the Archers’ house later for scone and cake. Unfortunately I had changed into cooler clothes, only to find that we were sitting in a cool breeze in the shade! Still, we had a good time (I had a conversation with chess player Paul Heppell), and we were back there the following evening with Judy (gave her a lift) and Vicky for more cake, tea and compline.
Over the last couple of days I spent some time tidying up my part of the study, and today we were at the charity shop getting rid of the some more stuff, and calling at the nearby butcher’s and Adnam’s. Got asparagus and strawberries at the butcher’s, but this seemed wrong, so we got lamb as well, and had it for supper.
Got around a bit today: after delivering some cheques to Heather this morning and pinning a notice on the church hall door we did the charity shop and took some other stuff to the church hall for Carrie. Later, with Dot at a DSSO meeting, I walked into city to pay in cheques, got a bus to Heartsease, walked a bit, picked up some pills, got another bus, walked a bit more, then drove to Morrisons to get rid of a pile of waste paper and some old shoes. Feeling a bit tired now.
I didn’t mention last night’s DCC. It wasn’t all that exciting: more like a conversation between Nicholas and Howard with the rest of us listening. Nicholas has carefully laid plans for what happens when he leaves, which you could regard as thoughtful or interfering, depending on your point of view. His heart is in the right place, I’m sure.
Summer seems to be approaching, at least for a while. Sunny and warm today, and we sat in the garden and drunk tea after Dot got back from one of her schools this afternoon. Earlier she came with me to the doctor’s, and I think he was intimidated into giving me a pretty thorough going over, though I think he believes nothing is wrong. So do I really. Nevertheless my blood pressure is still a bit high, and I have to return for a check in about a month. Meanwhile I am having a chest x-ray at the hospital, which apparently you can do on a drop-in basis, as long as they know your doctor is sending you.
While there Dot mentioned her heart did a funny sort of beat-skipping thing, with the result that she had to go to a clinic this afternoon and is booked in for something else. I don’t know the details, because she is now at a governors’ meeting at Little Plumstead, but she sounded pretty upbeat on the phone. So is Phil, who was at the hospital yesterday and has been promised some treatment to reduce muscle pain from his Parkinson’s.
The previous three days were taken up by Andrew. Phil drove me over to Coventry to fetch him on Monday, when it rained quite a lot, but not at the critical times. Because of road works we got on to the M11 going the wrong way, but were able to reverse that quite quickly. However, we mirrored the adventure coming back, when there was a huge hold-up approaching Cambridge on the A14, and I decided (as navigator) to continue down the M11 to Duxford and then go back up the A11. It seems a big diversion, but I think it was the right thing to do.
Before that we’d had a meal at Thrapston Little Chef, where Andrew was disconcerted to find no steak on the menu, but settled for barbecued chicken followed by (you guessed it) a sundae.
On Tuesday the weather was much better. Andrew and I walked into the city, heading for M&S, but discovered Peacock’s in the Mall and bought him a new jacket, new trousers, shirts, pants and socks, as all these seemed to be in short supply at Coventry (except the jacket, which was just in very bad shape). He declined my suggestion that we get him a haircut, and instead we had a coffee in the Arcade. Nasty moment there as he left for the toilet in the middle and (a) couldn’t find it and (b) took a long time to come back. I had visions of him wandering around Norwich (because the toilets were oddly outside the restaurant).
Anyway we found ourselves in the Castle Museum instead. Then after lunch Dot visited a school at Corton and I took Andrew to Barton Broad, which promised more than it delivered, then on to Walcott, where we got an ice cream, and Happisburgh, where we surveyed the recent surge damage and walked along the cliffs to see where the path had fallen into the sea.
Andrew was quite keen to go on a train, for some reason, so yesterday he and I took the train to North Walsham and walked through the town to the cemetery, where we met Dot, put flowers on the graves and drove home together. (Dot had meanwhile dropped in to see her aunt.)
After lunch we set off for Coventry and made quite good time, arriving at Minster Lodge at almost exactly 5pm, which was not the brightest thing to do. All well there – staff very pleased to see him back, or at least gave that impression – but then I tried to drive through the rush-hour traffic while avoiding the numerous road works. In the end I arrived by chance at Cheylesmore and sat in Dawlish Drive eating my chicken sandwich in the sun.
Afterwards I eventually found Binley and got some petrol at Morrisons before heading back to the A45 and home by the longer but easier route (M45, M1, A421), doing it in well under three hours. At Newport Pagnell services I was approached by a woman who was driving the wrong way down the M1 (bit of a theme, this) and wanted to know if there was any way she could turn round. I told her she would have to go on to the next junction, which was not far away. She was heading for Oxford, using “heading” in a completely different sense.
I arrived home about half an hour before Dot got back from orchestra rehearsal.
Happisburgh lighthouse from the now accessible pill box near the cliff edge.
Going back a bit, on Friday last week Dot and I went to another Julian Week lunchtime talk – this time by Dr Sarah Law on Julian and the Poetic Process. This was another really good one, despite the rather pathetic introducer, who seemed never to have seen a microphone before, let alone know how it worked. She propped it limply against the podium, where it was no use to man or beast. Fortunately the speaker overcame her ineptitude. That’s the trouble with these mystics: they don’t know how the world works.
Not true of Julian, of course, as former Archbishop Rowan Williams made clear in a much longer talk at the Cathedral the following morning, starting at 10.30am. Not much would get us out of bed that early on a Saturday, but he was well worth hearing, talking about Julian’s anti-theology and much else that I wish I could remember. Happily, I believe the talk is being printed, so I can go back and check. Many friends in the packed audience.
But I am leaping ahead. Friday contained more – starting with my picking up the St Augustine’s accounts file from Sarah, continuing with delivering some old videos etc to Stuart to sell in a sale at The Stage and ending with a concert at St Andrew’s Hall by the London Philharmonic. We had a front-row seat; however, it was strategically placed so that we couldn’t see the soloist and could only catch a glimpse of the conductor. Yes, dear reader, we were behind a pillar. I knew the pillar was there when I booked, but figured we could see behind it. Unhappily, the plan I consulted was inaccurate. On the plus side, we were perfectly placed for Dot to study the second violins in action. And the music was really good.
It was the first event of the Norfolk and Norwich Festival. The second, on Saturday morning, was erecting a cardboard copy of St Peter Mancroft outside the Forum. Unfortunately, it was very windy. The result was described by a friend as “underwhelming”. Harsh but fair.
Dot at the BBC, with Mary Thrower and Julia Ann Houseago
I should probably not have contested the date of completion of the Guildhall during the lunchtime quiz at the CNS Class of 61 reunion event on Sunday. I have now been earmarked as a troublemaker and almost a sore loser, despite the fact that getting the question right would not have given our team anything like the total of the actual winners.
In case you’re surprised that I should have the faintest idea when Norwich Guildhall was finished, or care, the information happens to be part of the Paston Walk round Norwich that I devised some time ago. And it’s 1453, since you ask. However, the quizmaster had 1412, because that’s when the basic structure was completed. However, the windows weren’t put in till 1453, and if you think a house without windows is finished, I invite you to live in one. I tried to remain dignified about it, but my case comes up next week.
Just kidding. It was an excellent day, starting with a tour of the BBC and ending with a tour of said Guildhall (which should have settled the matter, but didn’t). In between we had an excellent lunch at Loch Fyne. We were accompanied by Fred and Sue, who had been intending to stay the devious night but in the end arrived early on the Sunday morning, following a mini-crisis with Sue’s aged mother. And about 34 others, of course.
On Monday, which was a bank holiday, Dot decided to spring-clean the garage. It was a pleasant, sunny day, but everything has gone downhill since then. On the plus side, the garage is much clearer, and I have sorted all my tools out. I have 27 screwdrivers. Dot is well on her way to sorting out her sewing basket (once you get started on this sort of thing … ). On the minus side, there is a massive amount of stuff heading for the tip or the charity shop, it’s raining, and one of my car tyres is looking very flat. I’ve tested it, and it’s about 14 psi. The question is, does it have a puncture, or is it just losing interest?
It’s Julian Week, and I’ve been to three talks at the library – one by Karen Smyth on the literary aspects, one by Sophie Cabot on the world Julian lived in (I thought it was going to be about Norwich, but no) and one today on the link between Julian and T S Eliot – Little Gidding in particular. The guy who gave today’s talk read Little Gidding, which was worth the walk through the rain on its own, but he had some interesting things to say too. Dot managed to get to two of the three, and we’re going to one tomorrow. Eleanor was there today, and Lucy Edwards yesterday.
The talks are in the library – an environment that turned out to be surprisingly loud. Today a man turned up 25 minutes late for a 20-minute talk, which meant he plonked himself down after the talk was supposed to have finished and about three minutes before it actually did. I’m sure he had a good reason for this, as I’m sure the mother did yesterday who thought a talk about a mystic writer was just the thing for her toddler. People are weird.
Returning from yesterday’s evening talk, Dot and I had an impromptu evening meal at Prezzos, which was unexpectedly nice.
We had our hair cut at the second attempt yesterday, and we’ve paid for our holiday in Iona, thankfully organised by Anna. I was astonished to discover that to get from Norwich to Glasgow by air, you have to change at Manchester. That’s like going by train to Brundall and having to change at Trowse.
Dot did the first of a series of P4C sessions at Little Plumstead school on Tuesday, and she had neglected to pick up her blood pressure pills on Saturday. So I was outside the chemist when it opened and took the pills to Little Plumstead. Also a large piece of card that wouldn’t fit in her car.
Heard today that Oliver took two wickets at cricket against another school and ran someone out with a direct hit. Excellent! Meanwhile Amy has been taking part in an athletics meet at Chesham. Good little mover.
