Tag Archives: phil

Far Cry gets street cred

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Heading off for Caddington later today, before staying the night there and then catching a flight to Nice for our holiday in  Montauroux. Before that the piano tuner will arrive and do his stuff, no doubt reflecting simultaneously on the forthcoming Norwich v Ipswich playoffs and the SNP clean sweep of Scotland in the General Election. With a few votes still to be counted, the Conservatives have managed to get an overall majority – to everyone’s surprise. Resignations of Miliband, Clegg and Farage imminent. Resignations of a few pollsters would also be appropriate.

Our constituency, Norwich South, ousted Lib Dem Simon Wright and gave a huge majority to Labour. When we voted there was, for the first time in recorded memory, a queue at the polling station.

There were other big events this week. On Monday evening our band, Far Cry, performed at the Bicycle Shop cafe as part of Julian Week, and it all went pretty well, with some people from church (Carrie, Judy, Mary…) giving us moral support. Quite a nice number listening. Great to be able to sing my own songs to an actual audience who didn’t have to be there and weren’t performing themselves.

Emily and Lawrence helped us a lot, not least with street cred and the electrical stuff. Lawrence also recorded it, but was dubious about the sound quality. Between rehearsals and the actual event we had a light tapas meal upstairs, which was very good.

Next day we both went to the Archant coffee morning – together with Brian and Tricia and Maryta and Paul. Something of an EDP subs and spouses takeover. Robin had an eye appointment, so couldn’t make it.

The same day Naomi came to stay the night. Always nice to have her around: she had to see someone at UEA the next day; so she left around 12 and so did we, to hear a Julian talk at the library. Had some trouble finding where it was because they had switched it, which meant we were slightly late (and annoyed), but it was a good talk by Sheila Upjohn about how the Julian manuscript had survived in view of its “heretical” insistence that God loves us anyway. It involved some nuns in Cambrai and a few well-placed supporters.

Eleanor was in the audience; we had a chat afterwards.

Yesterday I went to see Paul, who thought I was someone named Kim (clearly my phone voice is not what it might be). I went mainly to ask him about a woman called Irene, but he couldn’t remember anything. However, while talking to Phil on the phone afterwards, it turned out that he did know an Irene, and it may turn out to be the woman Joy’s uncle was asking about (connected to Surrey Chapel way, way back). We shall see.

I was ringing Phil because he’s introduced me to a singer called Malcolm Guite, and I was giving him my reaction. He’s pretty good, actually.

Sudden spring rehearsal

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Changing landscape in Norwich. The old brewery building land has been cleared, and temporarily you can see St Peter Parmentergate Church juxtaposed with the Castle in the background.
Changing landscape in Norwich. The old brewery building land on KIng Street has been cleared, and temporarily you can see St Peter Parmentergate Church juxtaposed with the Castle in the background.

Yesterday we arrived at church just after 10am below grey skies, light rain and the familiar  chilly wind. When we emerged at 3pm, after a rehearsal with Phil, Emily and her boyfriend Lawrence, the sun had come out and it was perceptibly warm. Spring had crept in. Later in the day Dot and I went for a walk beside the River toward Carrow Road and got quite hot (and very tired).

The rehearsing is taking its toll: my right arm is still sore from the fall and was aching a lot last night. But I have taken advice from the chemist, who says nothing is broken. I do find that I can do a bit more with it every day. This morning it’s not so bad, but Dot wants to rehearse again. Then Far Cry (all five of us) will rehearse at the venue at 6pm, and then – at last – play for real. It will be something of a relief.

Dot’s seminar at the UEA went very well (no surprise there), but the parish annual meeting was not so thrilling, although the food by Karen Wimhurst and friends was excellent. Several no-shows from both sides, but Adrian turned up and mopped up quite a lot of the spare food. St Augustine’s were hardly mentioned, but that was partly my fault. I had kind of expected Howard to be there, and so had not prepared a talk, though I would have said something if asked.

Howard did eventually put in an appearance – on Saturday night at St Peter Hungate, where Louise Øhrstrøm was speaking on Julian, as part of the Julian Week events. Very good talk, though you had to listen carefully, and it got very cold towards the end. Had a quick chat with her – she came to St Augustine’s when she was at UEA, but is now back in Denmark. Howard seems on top form after Sri Lanka – perhaps too enthusiastic, as his sermon on Sunday lasted about 45 minutes!

On Thursday a bit of cunning forward planning – I postponed my bath and was rewarded when (a) a parcel I was expecting arrived about 10am and (b) shortly after it, the Sonata alarm man arrived two or three hours earlier than scheduled. Dot was out; so I was able to answer the door and then have a late bath. Sometimes these things work out…

On Friday evening we were invited to No 11 by Des and Chris, the new owners. Sam, Chris and Ellie also showed up, which meant we found out less than we might have done about our hosts, since Sam is not slow in coming forward. Still, we enjoyed the evening. The white wine was nice.

Wanderers in the Cathedral

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I still have a bit of a cough, but am feeling considerably better most of the time. The meal a week ago at the Sugar Beat in Swainsthorpe with Julia and Allan was first class, and in a very pleasant setting. So nice, in fact, that we considered booking it for the visit of David and Kristine, but by the time I got round to it (worrying a bit about possible cancellations), there was no room at the inn.

Instead we were lucky to be able to book at the Norfolk Mead in Coltishall for Saturday night, and this turned out to be excellent. Again, the setting was superb, and the food was very good indeed, though I didn’t like their interpretation of an “Eaton” Mess. The service was also near-perfect and worth the extra expense. The place is now under new management and attracting a much bigger clientele than it used to.

Our weekend with the Coomes was beset by bad weather, but we managed to get up to the Cathedral on the Saturday afternoon, where we saw the very moving sculpture installation  currently in residence, as pictured above. They are Ana Maria Pacheco’s Shadows of the Wanderer. Sculpture is not normally my thing, but this was sensational.

We lingered in the Cathedral out of the cold wind, listening to a rehearsal of St John’s Passion and visiting the shop, when we happened upon Mick and Gill Stedman, who must be around 80 but seemed very sprightly. We arranged for them to stay with us in September.

On the Sunday David and Kristine came to church with us as usual, where by some mishandling of the rota, I was down to preach. I managed to get through without David heckling, though Adrian did interrupt to ask who Ruth was. Actually it all went pretty well, and we returned home for one of Dot’s special salads with blueberries and chicken. Some furious squalls of rain and wind during the afternoon, but by the time they left things were improving, and their journey home went pretty well.

Yesterday I remembered just in time to go to the Requiem Mass for Alan Atherton at St George’s Church on Sprowston Road. Huge turnout. I entered with Mike Pollitt and sat with the Limmers, but many others from Archant were there. Afterwards I had quite a chat with Gerald Nunn, then with others from the former copy-taking pool, the ex-librarians – Frances, a couple of Pats and a couple of others whose names I’ve forgotten. Also there were Eric from the stone; Patrick, a Mercury sub; plus Ann Crane, Bob Easter and Johnny Hustler, who surprisingly gave one of the eulogies.

Just before I left Philip arrived to park his car while he went over to the station and bought a ticket for his upcoming visit to Sam’s (actually for the journey back, because he will be travelling down with Sam). On Friday I had given Joy a lift to the dentist’s and back, shortly before Linda came round to cut our hair. What a social whirl 🙂

Dot has been quite busy. Yesterday she spent most of the day at Barbara’s preparing for upcoming events, including the university one at the end of next month. Click here. On Thursday she was at the Cathedral for a very good head teachers’ conference.

Braving our unhealthy atmosphere

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David and Chrissy outside Number 22

Our optimism was ill-founded. I was feeling so ill by Saturday evening that I couldn’t join David, Chrissy and Dot for dinner at The Dining Rooms. Dot herself had been bad but was improving a bit by then and was able to have a good time with them. I managed Sunday lunch at home with them before taking to my bed again.

All very disappointing, but it was lovely to see them both happy despite the unhealthy atmosphere (David himself wasn’t too well, having caught something off the children), and it was great that they could come.

On the Friday I had had to cancel my intended visit to the launch of Godfrey Sayers’ book in Holt, and on Sunday I didn’t make church, of course. On the Monday I missed the PCC, as did Howard, who also had some kind of virus. There’s a lot of it about. Dot heroically attended as St Augustine’s sole representative.

This was a full-blown case of the kind of upper respiratory tract infection that I used to get routinely when I was younger – debilitating in the sense that you can’t do anything involving your head for more than a minute or two: talking to people, reading, watching TV and so on. I haven’t had it like this for years, I don’t think, and hoped I’d grown out of it, as I seem to have more or less grown out of hay fever.

Dot wasn’t feeling at all well either for some days: she gets a lot of catarrh and sneezing, but not quite the acute facial discomfort, I don’t think. Perhaps she’s just more resilient, or more determined. But I don’t think so, obviously.

She was out in the city yesterday, and has been to have lunch with Carrie today. I managed to get up to the Rosary, where there was brief bit of weak sunshine, but I still feel very tired and clogged up. The hounds of spring are on winter’s traces, but let it pass. (You have to be a big James Thurber fan to get that one. Unless you happen to click here.)

I should have mentioned that Phil popped round last Friday afternoon for a cup of tea, despite my virus warning. He declined a lift home.

Vagueness about place

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Dot near Cockshoot Broad
Dot near Cockshoot Broad

After writing the last post, we were invited round to number 18 for a cup of tea, which turned out to be much more: sandwiches, cakes and so on. An afternoon tea that Phil would have been proud of, apparently. I’m sure she would. Phyll too. Had a very pleasant time talking to a number of people – especially the wife of the RC deacon who had led the service.

We were about to lose our record of going to the cinema every week this year when we decided to go for a walk at the end of Saturday afternoon – and during the walk decided to go to the cinema to see The Grand Budapest Hotel. Discovered at the end that it was from stories by Stefan Zweig, and it certainly had a mid-European feel to it – a vagueness about place but a fascination with unusual sequences of events. Ralph Fiennes was very funny, as was the bellboy, whose name escapes me. The hotel was  funny too.

On Sunday we had Communion followed by a talk by Robert Fruewirth on Lady Julian and person-centred counselling. I spent most of it trying to work out what non-person-centred counselling would be like. I do have an antipathy to counselling generally, suspecting it’s often a kind of addiction indulged in by people who should just get a grip, but are too fascinated by themselves to step outside. He didn’t say anything very interesting, which is a pity, because Julian most definitely did.

Later Dot and I went for a walk at Woodbastwick in weather rather redolent of the previous Sunday, if marginally cooler. Cockshoot Broad is as tranquil as ever, but the dyke seems to have lost its water lilies. Or maybe it’s the wrong time of year. Is there a wrong time of year for water lilies? Bright sunshine, though, and restful.

Yesterday I went to the dentist and got more or less a clean bill of health, though he identified a little hole that he would like to have a go at with a laser. In a weak moment, I said yes. It’s happening next Wednesday. Not sure it’s totally necessary, but apparently it bled a lot. Meanwhile the rest of my body is up and down: last night I felt extremely odd in the middle of the night, but much better as soon as I got out of bed. Still have a funny head  (oh yes) and a tight abdomen.

In the afternoon I went out to Mundesley for a meeting of the PHS trustees, arriving a little early. Not a bad meeting in the sun room, but with the door open. Have just finished the minutes, but it sounds very much as if we are going to get involved with another huge project. I may flee the country.

Meanwhile I have written a song called Farewell to Philomena, based loosely on our dear departed neighbour, but with some other elements of southern Ireland. Quite pleased with it, though Dot has doubts about the tune. She has a pain in her groin too (I don’t think it’s the tune), but has been spending the afternoon at Peterhouse School with her colleague Juliet (wife of Tom Corbett, ibid).

Problems with paperwork

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A rare picture of my cousin Adrian, now sadly dead, at 67 Brian Avenue with Dot, Mum and an early version of David
A rare picture of my cousin Adrian, now sadly dead, at 67 Brian Avenue with Dot, Mum and an early version of David

After reaching the summit of the travel insurance mountain, I collapsed on the church account ridge. After attempting to complete the first form yesterday – only to find it was mainly irrelevant and unanswerable – I felt blood rushing around my brain and decided to resign as treasurer. I sent an e-mail to Nicholas and Howard. I also wrote a letter to NatWest, heavily critical of their approach to getting new customers.

Later in the day I got an e-mail from Howard, asking to come round and talk to me at teatime. He eventually arrived about an hour late, after being held up in a traffic jam, and we discussed his holiday in Burma, plus a little bit about the problems I’d had with banks. It turns out he’s had similar problems, but he offered to go to TSB, where he knew someone, and see if anything could be done more simply.

This morning he rang to say that he thought they could sort it out. Apparently he had opened the account in the first place and was able to discuss the whole thing on a different basis. I should have got him involved earlier.

To celebrate, I managed to complete the Gift Aid claim form which, in an act of  monumental stupidity, the tax people provide only in a download format that will not open on a Mac.  I mean, what’s wrong with Excel? I can only conclude that financial people go out of their way to drive you insane.

So I had to download additional software. My first attempt wouldn’t open either because it didn’t have the right certificate and I needed a later version (chance would be a fine thing). So I ended up with something called Libre, which did work. Then the form was so unclear that I had three attempts at filling it in before it accepted what I’d entered.

I haven’t decided yet whether to go through with my resignation as treasurer. I would certainly like to. The St Luke’s treasurer, who is new, is down with pneumonia, so the year-end accounts should be interesting.

Yesterday I also missed my second funeral in the space of a week when a slight hiccup occurred in Dot’s invitation to Richard to come round  for lunch. When I told her that the funeral (for John Care) was at 1pm she texted Richard to tell him to come earlier, but although he received it, he didn’t read it; and so turned up at 12. Judging that the living were more important than the dead (a tricky call) we had lunch and a long discussion with Richard, and I wrote an apologetic letter to Jonathan.

I did however manage to get to Surrey Chapel this afternoon for a thanksgiving service for John Tillett, the church organist and the man who helped us get football started at Surrey by finding us a pitch at Eaton Park. Also a lovely man – one of those people who was kind and generous to everyone. The church was packed, and I met Phil outside and sat with him. I said hello to a few people, but I knew very few really, and I left Phil chatting in the end.

Dot is now at a governors’ meeting. We missed supper, because she got heavily involved with a North Walsham history page on Facebook and started recognising people she knew. It got a bit out of control after that.

Approaching Christmas with a broken toe

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Dot with Norwich City stars Nathan Redmond and Paul McVeigh
Dot with Norwich City stars Nathan Redmond and Paul McVeigh

More storms across the country, but not too bad in Norfolk. David and the children have been here since Sunday afternoon, and we have been busy preparing for Christmas. After Dot and I had our hair cut, we stayed in most of yesterday because of rain and wind, though I slipped out to Carrow Road to upgrade one of the Boxing Day match tickets from senior to adult. David has broken/injured his toe, and much of his foot is bruised, so he finds it hard to walk far.

Nevertheless we all went up into the city today (when it was much sunnier, though still a bit windy) by bus, and got some clothes for Oliver and a few other things. To save David’s foot I walked over to the Castle Mall to renew his car tax, and then we had a hot drink in the M&S Cafe before visiting Hotel Chocolat. From there four of us returned home, leaving David in the city to get one or two other things.

He arrived home just after Roger called and left; then Dot went out to see Auntie Ethel. On her return, having cleaned the car, she remained at home with the others while I called in at Phil and Joy’s. They seemed in much better spirits. It seems Lucy is quite a lot better and at home. The baby is OK too, give or take some colic and constipation.

Later, while the salmon was cooking, I organised a quiz which Oliver won. The scoring was a little esoteric.

Bit of a panic in the rain at Waitrose on Saturday evening when we attempted to pick up the turkey we thought we’d ordered. In fact it turned out that we hadn’t; so we bought one off the shelf, and bought quite a lot of other stuff too.

On Sunday the alternative carol service featured a bit of dialogue between Dot and me, plus four of my poems, as well as the usual readings and carols followed by Communion. The Christmas meal that followed was decidedly better than the one at the Archant pensioners’ lunch in the Holiday Inn.

Tonight Dot and I will go to Midnight Communion, and I will put notices on the gates and lock them afterwards. The children have been discussing how early they will be allowed to get up tomorrow. Dot and I have been discussing how long we’ll stay in bed.

Paston excursions

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Mary Paulson-Ellis in King Street, viewing a beam that is said to have come from a Paston house in Princes Street

It’s turned very cold again, with a sharp wind, but the snow that fell briefly last night has gone. I drove Phil home while it was falling: he’d called to print something out, and we had a long conversation about various problems, especially his roof. In the end I arranged for him to meet Vicky tomorrow: coincidentally, she’s in charge, for Orbit, of work going on next door to him.

It’s been raining most of today, but I’m glad to say that on Sunday and Monday it was dry, because on those days I was showing Mary Paulson-Ellis, a writer from Edinburgh, round some Paston sites in North-East Norfolk and in Norwich. She was accompanied by a colleague, Nic, from UEA, with whom she’s working on a Paston project for the 26 writing group. It’s all Norfolk-based and connected with the fact that Norwich is England’s first Unesco Creative City of Literature.

On the Sunday I rushed to Paston from church lunch to meet Mary and Nic at Lucy’s house, Lucy being still in Benjamin Court at Cromer, recovering from her broken shoulder and bruised foot. Mary was brought by her brother, and Nic had his wife and young son with him. Jonathan was very hospitable and good with the young lad, taking him up on the roof and out into the garden while Mary, Nic and I looked at various Paston-related books (eg Fenn first and second editions and our own handmade book).

Afterwards we went on to Paston Church and then Bromholm Abbey, where Nic and his family made for home while I took Mary to meet Lucy at Cromer. On the way home from Cromer (in the pitch dark) I showed Mary Oxnead Hall and the church, but we decided not to get out of the car!

On Monday I met them at St Andrew’s Hall, and we went in and looked at the roof and the Paston coat of arms in the doors, thence taking in the usual Paston sites: Peter Hungate, Elm Hill, Cathedral and King Street, before going via the Julian Shrine to the Museum, where we viewed the Paston Treasure before having tea and cake. I walked them down past the Guildhall bef0re leaving them. Quite a stimulating time. They want me to do an MA in Creative Writing. I don’t know why.

Continuing the Paston theme, I met Sarah Power at Dragon Hall on Tuesday, drawing up a rough plan of what we would do there on May 31. I now have to get a couple of paragraphs of publicity to her before Feb 22. It’s all go. No Tuesday Group last night, though: several call-offs, which was just as well because of the snow.

Having the usual problem with getting our brown bin emptied: alleged to be “not out” again, but of course it was. I have now been promised a site visit, whatever that is. It still hasn’t been emptied. Have just seen that a new prime number has been discovered, containing 17 million digits. It is so big that even Norwich City Council bin emptiers would be able to see it.

The Lawrence experience

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Julia, Dave and Dot view the Hemlock Stone on Stapleford Hill

Just back from Eastwood, a few miles from Nottingham and the birthplace of D H Lawrence. It’s been a misty day, quite cool, and at 4.15pm the sun is only just breaking through. We visited the birthplace museum, where Janice gave us a thorough and interesting tour, and then the heritage centre, which was showing an exhibition of Lawrence’s first novel, The White Peacock. Interestingly at neither place was this novel on sale, which is not the greatest marketing achievement I have ever come across.

In passing, I should note that Eastwood is also quite close to Mansfield, early home of my paternal grandparents and birthplace of the eldest three of my uncles. Why they ended up there is a bit of a mystery.

This is the third day of our visit to Toton. Julia is seeming a lot better, although her ankle still looks rather forbidding, and she manages to get around very well. Yesterday she spent some time shopping in the Westfield Centre at Derby with Dot, while Dave and I walked across town to the Silk Mill – the first factory anywhere, apparently, and now hosting a photographic exhibition and a number of aero engines, about which Dave was able to enlighten me. We had sandwiches in a nearby pub and then met up with Dot and Julia again in M&S, to discover Dot had bought me a shirt and two trousers. That’s good, obviously. I was able to wear the shirt and one pair of trousers to a meal at Creme in Stapleford with Alan and Rosemary the same evening: amazingly we had run into them at Westfield (Thorntons cafe) earlier in the day. Just a coincidence – the (excellent) evening meal had already been arranged.

We got to Toton for lunch on Monday after a straightforward journey. In the afternoon we walked to the Hemlock Stone on Stapleford Hill, which I found quite haunting.

One or two other highlights from the past few days. On Friday Dot and I went up to Mousehold to play pitch and putt, only to find that the course was not yet open. The weather was very pleasant, so we went for a three-mile walk on the heath instead. Then I went to the doctor’s to have my blood pressure checked and found that it had improved markedly. Of course I still need to take the tablets, and will have it checked again in a couple of months.

On Saturday evening we went to the annual celebration of Norwich Youth for Christ, which was unexpectedly enjoyable. It was at Eaton Church, and Heather and Paul Cracknell were there. Mark Tuma’s final event for NYFC, and one of Dot’s final appearances as a trustee.

On Sunday I preached (not terribly well, I suspect) on the Ten Commandments and then we took Joy and Phil for the latter’s birthday lunch at Joe’s. We supplied pavlova and wine, plus transport, and the fun lingered on until dark. Phil is 60, and we had a good look at his new bike as well as a tour of Joe and Birgit’s new house.

17 May 2008

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This is an arty picture of my cousin Ann, taken through a Celtic cross in Cringleford graveyard, where I had taken her to see Frank’s grave. All being well, she is now back in Liverpool after a fairly busy week here – most of it in beautiful warm weather.

I am radioactive at the moment, having just had an injection at hospital in preparation for a body skeleton x-ray in about an hour’s time. This is the second of two tests to see if my prostate cancer has spread. Unfortunately it means we have had to delay our trip to Caddington. We had meant to go straight there from the hospital, but I discovered that I shouldn’t be close to children today. I can imagine what Oliver might think of being asked to stay two metres away from me, so we’ve decided to travel down after they’re in bed, which is a pity, but the best solution, I think.

I was thinking of travelling over to Coventry “on the way” to pick up my jacket and glasses, which I foolishly left there yesterday, when Phil and I went to a case conference for Andrew and shifted a bit of his stuff from Gareth’s. (I was feeling a bit off because of a swelling in my groin which is a bit mysterious, so didn’t have my mind on what I was doing.) I didn’t realise I’d left them until I got home. But Halina is going to post the glasses to me on Monday, and in the meantime I’ve bought a pair of reading glasses from Boots, which I haven’t quite got used to yet…

Yesterday’s journey wasn’t too bad, though the good weather had ended with a vengeance and there was quite a bit of rain, as there is today. Traffic was heavy on the way back, and we went across the Fens, which worked out well. We got back about 7pm.

Bit of a break there. I have now had my bone skeleton x-ray, which consisted of lying under a camera for about 20 minutes, then having to have a re-x-ray of my pelvis area because it hadn’t come out quite right. All totally silent, and not an unpleasant experience. They aren’t allowed to tell me the results, but I got a positive feel from the nurse (if you see what I mean). I could be completely wrong about that, needless to say. They may be trained to give positive feels.

While Ann and Jim were here, and while the weather was still summery, we did a bit of driving around. On Wednesday we all went to Reepham, where Ann and Jim went for a walk while Dot and I had our hair cut. Afterwards we all had lunch in Kerri’s, then, while Dot drove to North Walsham to see her aunt, the rest of us went home (those paying close attention will have spotted we must have taken two cars to Reepham). At home Paul came round to see his niece, then I went to the hospital with Dot for my MRI scan. Again, not an unpleasant experience, but very noisy. I was given an injection to relax my muscles, and then laid on a table that went into a huge tube. The scan is by magnets and is very loud – almost as if someone is outside trying to get in. I had to wear earphones, and there was supposed to be music, but it was practically inaudible. It lasted about 35 minutes and, strangely, I actually felt very peaceful in there.

On the Thursday it was still sunny but the wind turned very chilly. In the morning I took Ann and Jim on a tour of some spots which might have been familiar or interesting or both. We took in our grandmother’s house in Hall Road, and the ones on Caistor Lane and in Poringland. It turned out that Ann didn’t know the Poringland one. Her family had left for Africa in 1948, bef0re my grandparents moved there. We also looked at Tuckswood, and the two houses in Brian Avenue where I had grown up. We called at Venta Icenorum and had a short stroll, then had coffee at Dunston Hall Hotel before going to Cringleford and visiting Frank’s grave (and taking a quick look at his bungalow there).

Home for lunch, then we all – with Dot – went to Yelverton to look at our old house and on to Woodbastwick, where we parked by the river and walked to Cockshoot Broad: the boardwalk has been extended rather nicely. Also called at Ranworth and bought some ice cream before heading home in time to pick up Ann’s pictures from the chemist. In the evening Dave Hall came round to beat me at chess: I made a mess of the late opening. Had quite a long conversation with him.

While Phil and I were travelling to Coventry yesterday, Ann and Jim visited a cousin at North Walsham – whose parents coincidentally lived next door to Dot’s parents in Northfield Road – then another relative (I think) at Eckling Grange, Dereham. We had given them the option of staying an extra night, but they called to say they were on their way home and had reached Sleaford.