We’re back from Blakeney, and I’ve had my ears syringed. So I should be able to fly to Canada next week with no problems. I haven’t been able to hear properly for about a month, and it was a real struggle getting someone to even look at my ears, let alone agree to syringe them. I’ve been putting oil in for the last couple of weeks, which hasn’t been much fun, but hopefully it is now sorted. I may even be able to get a good night’s sleep tonight. They’re still popping, but apparently they have to dry out.
We were first to arrive at Blakeney on Friday, which rarely happens. As usual we all rolled down to the Blakeney Hotel for afternoon tea, but the upstairs lounge was full, so we took advantage of a little room downstairs, just off the lounge. Very pleasant. Then began the series of breakfasts and evening meals which are a feature of life at the Manor Hotel. Nice enough food – and staff – but not exceptional. We had the same room as last year.
Dave and Julia were in good form, but Rosemary had just had some bad news medically: she has a muscle-wasting disease. One thing after another… Very sorry for her: she and Alan are such a nice couple, and Alan has been through the mill too.
It was very warm again on Saturday, and we took care to put on sun cream. We started at the Cley wildlife centre, where we had coffee and looked at the new exhibition building. We then moved on to Salthouse, where we parked at the church and then walked down to the beach and along the shingle for a while before completing a circle by crossing the road and climbing a small hill before taking a path through barley field. While still on the shingle we were accosted by a man who warned us about tics, showing us what appeared to be a bite on his wrist in evidence. Don’t know where the tic, if such it was, had come from (he blamed nearby cattle), but we were a bit nervous the rest of the day while quietly confident that tics were not a normal feature of Norfolk beaches.
Back in Salthouse we had a baguette purchased from the Old Post Office, positioned between Cookie’s and the Dun Cow and therefore frequently overlooked. Good baguette, though, and some rather nice ginger beer with chilli. We sat on a seat outside, with Dave and Julia in a disused bus shelter, then walked back up through a tunnel path to the church, where we popped in to look at an art exhibition by Maria Pavledis, who was about to give a talk. She persuaded us to stay, which almost doubled her audience. She was interesting, although I didn’t like her work much (rats figured strongly), but towards the end I felt tired out, and so after a brief stop in Cley where Dave and Julia bought some pottery, we headed back to the hotel. In the evening there was a very high tide, spilling on to the carnser. There was an even higher one the next morning, and the following night.
On Sunday it was a bit cooler. We drove to Holkham, lamented the demise of the restaurant (converted into extra rooms for the hotel), bought some presents in the Adnams shop and then headed to the Victoria for coffee, whereupon it started raining pretty hard. We hung on to the table as many soggy people and a multiplicity of dogs poured in for Sunday lunch, and eventually we decided it would be easier to eat there than to try to find somewhere else; so we had a light lunch (prawns for some, cheese board for others), and when it stopped raining drove on to Brancaster, where we parked in the village and walked down the road to the beach, then round and back by a muddy path to Titchwell. There was a bit more rain, but nothing like as much as at lunchtime. We ended up by the road just outside Titchwell, scarping extremely persistent mud off our shoes. Peter we stopped in Wells for a scone and a cup of tea; sadly the gallery containing Godfrey’s pictures was shut.
Took some nice sunset pictures in the evening.
On Monday we returned to Cley Wildlife Centre and had a coffee, then a chat with a helpful expert called Diane, who got Rachel to turn on the sea surge video for us. After this excitement we drove up to the church, where there was an excellent exhibition, called Marvellous in Ordinary. Some exceptional stuff in there. Afterwards we drove to Wiveton, because the Three Swallows was shut, and had a lunch that was not quite light enough in the magnificent Bell. Back to Blakeney, from where we walked along the newly restored coast path to Cley, misidentifying birds on the way. At Cley we got a Coasthopper back to Blakeney.
Tuesday, and it was all over. Well, almost. The Towns departed for Derby, but Julian and Dave joined us in a stroll in Blakeney, where we visited an excellent art and crafts fair and then, unbelievably, squeezed in a cup of coffee in The Moorings (water for Dot and me) before our noon lunch at Cookies (booked two days earlier). There was a huge traffic jam in Cley; so Dot and I took the back roads and arrived at Cookies about ten minutes before the Evetts, but still late. However, it was raining, and the place was not crowded. We had booked for the absent Towns, but those two seats went to a couple of American cyclists from New England, with whom we had an interesting chat. Afterwards we parted, but it was not all over for Dot and me.
We drove to Neatishead, where Dot had purchased a reduced-price ticket for the radar museum. This was unprepossessing but contained far more than we expected, and the guided tour lasted nearly 90 minutes, by which time Dot and I were practically out on our feet. Very interesting, though, and plenty more to see on a return visit.
To round the day off, we had a compline and cake fixed for the Archers’ at 8pm. Happily Jude took us: it was a pleasant evening as usual, and somewhere before and after we managed to watch the highlights of the British Grand Prix, won by Hamilton.
