Off to Norfolk

Off on holiday to North Norfolk with J this week.  He was brought up in Little Walsingham, and I also have passed many happy holidays there.

After agonizing about whether to take the car or not – in the end I decided not to.  Even down the motorway it is over eight hours drive – I do not like the look of the tangle of roads in the midlands, and if you take an alternative route trying to avoid the worst snarly bits, it ends up taking over ten hours.  So we went in the train – straight from Leuchars to London, and from London to King’s Lynn.  This is a slightly long way round but is one change of train instead of Cupar -> Edinburgh -> Peterborough -> Ely -> King’s Lynn.

We experienced the first class LNER in Leuchars which was full of golfers but otherwise ok, and then got on our long, long Azuma.  As it was first class we were plied with food and drink the whole way.  Here is R considering the menu.

We went over the bridge in style.

Then we were heading to London at speed, and arrived bang on time.  It was a little disappointing that the train was very full so we couldn’t stretch out properly.

The weather in Norfolk was lovely as we arrived and we walked the 10 minutes from the train station to our rented town house in brilliant sunlight.  This is me with King John who granted the town its first charter when it was still called “Bishop’s Lynn”, but is in fact not the “King” in the name of the town – that honour belongs to Henry VIII.  There is a long story about this which you can read on wikipedia if interested.  Here I am with the much maligned King John.

I had only be to Lynn to go through it on the train before, so I never realized what a beautiful and interesting town it is.  Our house was a restored merchant’s house over three levels – 38 steps up to my bedroom, and two minutes from the famous Custom House (which of course was covered in scaffolding while we were there).  This is our view over the Vancouver statue.

We had had our dinner in a restored warehouse

And walked back along the sea front – or perhaps river front?  The Great Ouse is one of those tidal rivers like the Clyde and the Tay where you never know where the sea starts.  Regardless of which, there was a very pretty sunset over it.