Southwold

The morning chorus ended this morning with the call of the cuckoo. We'd spent a peaceful night at The White Horse, Upton, a pub visited by Prince Charles with a large photograph displayed as proof on a wall inside. We'd also slept well after yesterdays cycle, or perhaps from two drinks in the pub garden. 

Firstly, today we had to find water for our tank. A gentle drive along quiet country roads lined with blood red poppies took us to the boat moorings at Reedham where hosepipes attached to taps provided water for a small donation in the box.

As the coin hit the bottom of the box, we decided we were possibly the only doners. Our historical visit today was to be Burgh Castle, a Roman Fort built around 300 A.D. Archaeological excavations have revealed coins, pottery, tools, knives, animal bone, tiles and other building materials.

As we rounded a corner and the fort came in to view we were impressed by the ruins and how they'd withstood time. We sat on the grass on the west side and ate pasties whilst enjoying views across Breydon Water and the marshlands.

The area reminded us very much of the Marais in France. The paths around the site and nearby church, were busy with dog walkers, many of whom ignored the 'dogs on leads' signs that adorned every gate post. Why? The weather warm once again with a blue and white tablecloth of a sky we returned to Marge. Time to cross the border, Marge. Head for Suffolk. We have spent six nights in Norfolk and enjoyed our time there very much. We found the people friendly, the vibe laid back and the countryside and seaside pretty. We'll definitely return, we know there's so much more to see. 

On to Lowestoft to check out an overnight parking spot at Lowestoft Ness, the most easterly point of England. It was not what we expected, a little bit underwhelming. The stop was by a construction site alongside the sea wall behind the Birds Eye factory. It was a no. There was only one place really to head to, Southwold, which was always a planned stop on our trip.

There are a few free spaces at South Green right in the town centre and fortunately there was one waiting for Marge. We had come to Southwold on a mission. For John to drink a pint of 0.5% Ghost Ship from the tap in a pub in the town where it is produced at the Adnams brewery. After some enquiries no luck.

Then after we'd walked around the town, visiting the pier with its mad arcade full of home-made coin operated machines we found ourselves right outside the Sole Bay Inn across the road from the brewery.

Well if they didn't sell it here where would they. Result! Mission accomplished. 

Fish and Chips from The Little Fish and Chip shop in the town completed the day. Southwold is nicknamed Islington on Sea with its charming beach huts, lighthouse, independent shops and pier it attracts people from London just a two and a half hour drive away, which is why you can drink prosecco at the fish and chip shop whilst you wait for your meal to be cooked to order.

Very civilised. Its residents however are an interesting mix. A man in his sixties wearing a Ramones T-shirt and canvas converse baseball boots, a lady in pyjamas, purple slippers and a blue poncho, Yorkshire people, each trying to be the last through the door in their local pub so they didn't have to pay for the round of drinks. 

Tonight we have a lovely view of the sea. So far there is just Marge. We must respect the area, the neighbours and locals by keeping a low profile otherwise a No Overnight' sign will go up. So no nonsense Marge please.

Upton, Nr: Acle.

At nine this morning the Ranworth church bell rang out calling the parishioners to the Sunday morning service. As for us, it signalled, time to get up. Yet again, the morning was bright and warm. A blue metallic sky lit the broad. Right Marge, day off for you today, we're going cycling. 

A short drive back to Wroxham, lunch bought and we were on our way alongside the Bure Valley Railway to Aylsham, or so we thought. At the Beginning of the cycle path, work was being undertaken to improve the path, so we followed the diversion along the road and onto a footpath. On the road, Angela's front wheel slipped on some sand and she nearly fell off. This isn't fun!

Then onto the footpath. This isn't fun either! We partly cycled and walked, the long grass whipping against our legs, eventually finding ourselves at the bottom of some steps leading up onto the cycleway. The ride was hard going on the narrow path, loose gravel under the tyres of the small wheels of our Brompton bicycles.

The Bure Valley train passed us on its way back to Wroxham setting a seed in our minds that this might be the way to return to Marge. We paused a while to eat our lunch and for John to pick field mushrooms.

Butterflies sat on the path, taking flight a split second before our wheels touched them. After two hours we arrived at Aylsham, tired from struggling against one of the cyclists' pet hates, a head wind. We cycled around twelve miles, and knew it. Tesco loomed large as we arrived in the town and we rewarded our efforts with a box of mint chocolate ice creams. Yes, a box! Across the road at the station ticket office, we enquired as to the time of the next train to be told it was just about to leave and we'd missed it. Oh, and it was the last one of the day. What! It was still sat in the station. John walked around and the guard asked if we were going to board it. Quick, buy a ticket! The officious man in the ticket office did not seem happy, well sorry mate you should have been more helpful. Anyway, that's another twenty pounds in the coffers.

Angela was well excited about riding on the train. There's nothing like the smell of a steam train and smut in your eye. Forty-five minutes later we were back at Wroxham. It was now late afternoon and we couldn't believe yet another day had almost passed by. It's only when you get older that you realise you must live every day to its fullest. 

Tonight's stop is The White Horse community pub at Upton, near Acle. A couple of drinks in the pub garden with the sound of birdsong ringing in our ears ended the day nicely. We have no idea where we will visit tomorrow or where we will stay tomorrow night, but we don't mind. We know one thing, we will make the most of the day whatever we do. 

Ranworth (Day 2)

A beautiful start to the day. The sun bright, waking us early. Outside, the willow trees swayed in the breeze that blew off the broad. The other van here with us last night, couple from Sheffield, left early, so it was just Marge for a while until another van appeared just after nine. The couple in it drinking Stella Artois lager for breakfast. As you do!

Today we had planned to take a boat trip, as the guide book recommended this was the best way to see the river Bure and some of the broads. So we drove to nearby Wroxham. Should we be driving down single-track roads with grass growing in the centre of the road? Probably not Marge. Hopefully we won't meet another vehicle. At Wroxham we parked Marge in Roys' long stay car park. Roys' it appeared seemed to dominate the town. From humble beginnings in 1895 when their first village store opened the family now own numerous businesses in the area. 

We booked ourselves on the Vintage Broadsman for a two-hour trip along the river Bure visiting some of the broads along the way.

As we left Wroxham, we viewed the riverside properties, with little privacy as the river was busy with a constant flow of traffic. We passed a pretty little blue and white cottage 1920's thatched cottage with Airbnb written all over it and the former home of George Formby.

Our skipper provided interesting commentary about the wildlife, riverside homes and general history of the area whilst we observed some interesting boat skills of those driving the hire boats. Alcohol and boats, never a great mix!

A rainbow of kayaks crowded around the ice cream boat which was doing a roaring trade on this warm day. On the top deck of one holiday boat four women sunbathed, each in a different stage of buttock exposure, oblivious of a constant flow of spectators, or perhaps not.

We really enjoyed the trip, especially seeing the Norfolk Wherry, one of only eight in existence. We don't generally pay for fun, but today we were glad we did. 

Tonight we have decided to return to The Maltsters at Ranworth. Drinks in the pub garden after a walk along the lane finished the day off nicely. Where tomorrow Marge? We might just hang around the broads another day. 

Thatching reeds, bundled and stacked in a barn near to the place we are staying

Just a few of the Wroxam Swans

Ranworth

The couple we met last night from Leicester, said that Norfolk was like stepping back in time, something we had to agree, especially to the west of Cromer. Out of politeness we made a point of speaking to the couple in the smaller transporter van between us and the German van. They said, they felt like the filling in a VW sandwich, but didn't seem overly bothered about it, well certainly not enough to move into one of the other spaces. As the sun set, obscured by the headland and cloud we decided to find out why some of Marge's electrics were not working. A 15 amp fuse was the problem, an easy fix, thank goodness. 

This morning we awoke to calm seas, sunshine and vehicle noise. We were glad yesterday evening we'd moved from the road along the seafront to a small parking area set back from it. For such a small place, an awful lot of rush hour traffic seemed to pass through. This area of Norfolk felt different to the north coast and we hoped as we moved into the broads we wouldn't be disappointed. Firstly we needed to top up Marge's water tank. John found out via the park4night app that water could be obtained at the boat area adjacent to Horsey Mill, so we headed there.

Horsey turned out to be a hidden gem. A pretty little place with a windpump restored by the national trust.

Here at Horsey the broads meet the sea a short walk away, but we decided to take the four-mile loop walk to Bromgrove Mill and back, stopping at All Saints church, a beautiful Saxon thatched building.

We took a look inside, then sat in the churchyard to eat our lunch. Along the way we had to step over caterpillars, jump out of the way of swallow tail butterflies and stop to watch a crane as it glided over Horsey Mere. The weather was beautiful, and dare we say, a little too hot. Back at Marge her internal temperature was 32 c. Are you having a hot flush Marge? What's that woman wearing? Oh no, not again Marge, leave people alone. Oh, a one-piece disaster we think. You can see every curve, and more. Honestly, the National Trust will let anyone in these days, it's gone right downhill. 

Late afternoon we decided to move on to a pub at Ranworth. The Maltsters offered overnight parking in exchange for money spent with them. Fair enough. It's Friday night and we like to ensure we're somewhere fairly safe at weekends.

The pub is right beside Ranworth broad and the sunshine had brought out the visitors. We settled Marge then walked along a boardwalk through the nature reserve to the visitor centre. Eclectic flora and a variety of woodland birds all around. Dragonflies patrolled and rafts of ducks drifted by. The panoramic vista from the visitor centre was beautiful.

Hungry from our days walking we ordered two pizzas from the Pizza Den in the pub garden then settled down with cold drinks to enjoy a rare warm summer evening. This evening we have a view of the water from Marge and are enjoying the songs of the blackbirds, thrushes and robins around us. Here's to more of the same tomorrow, Marge.