A wedding in Norfolk

The one thing (actually, one of many things) Norwich does well is food. Before the wedding, I made my routine hairdressers appointment which I managed to follow with a lunch and then drinks and dinner.

Lunch satisfied my week-long fish & chip craving and of course, fish & chips have to be had at Grosvenor Fish Bar. We ate in the 'bunker' below, a cosy seating area on the forecourt where food is served in tin dishes with wooden cutlery; still very rustic and cutesy!

After lunch I wandered and spent far too much money as I always do, so decided I was in need of tea distraction before I regretted anything. The Bicycle Shop is my tea safety net; it (Moroccan Mint Green) comes in a teapot, you pour it into a mis-matched china cup and saucer, the atmosphere is cosy and the music's always good. My next order was a hearty glass of red wine then it was time for food. Tapas at the Bicycle Shop is a firm favourite but as we were sat at a table reserved for half past 7 and it was already nearing quarter past at this point, we took our cue to move on.

What I love most about Norwich is that despite its size, there is always something new to discover. For dinner we ended up at the Maddermarket Kitchen, somewhere I've always wanted to try!

You have to BYOB, but that just meant that we had the whole of Tesco's red wine selection to choose from which was hardly a problem! We went for two courses and for my main I tried lamb chump thus learnt the real meaning of 'chump'; it was delicious! For dessert, I chose (and tweaked) the cheeseboard; yummy camembert, cheddar, chutney, apple and crackers. Safe to say, I felt entirely satisfied when we were done!

With a wedding ahead of me, I was keen to avoid dark circles beneath the eyes or spots caused by alcohol consumption, so we retired to home, mint tea (or hot water) and bed.

After the best night's sleep, I awoke bright eyed and bushy tailed ready to head to Hockering to see and help out at the venue. With a few hours to spare before I was required, I had a leisurely stroll into town where my tummy began to rumble. Another place I'd not visited before was Pandora's Kitchen, somewhere I've often passed and wondered about but never stepped inside. However upon seeing that they were offering breakfast, I decided it was the prime opportunity to stop and satisfy my rumbling tum! Eggs Florentine and an Earl Grey in the sunshine was perfection. I even found myself reading a little more of my book! 

When we arrived, the sun was shining and most things were already taken care of (perfect timing by us) so I simply had a tour of the area then we headed to the bride's mum and dad's to meet other wedding guests before the big day. Apparently it's a tradition to get everyone together the night before, but having been a part of very few weddings, this was news to me. It was a lovely evening either way; drinks were flowing and food was aplenty! The actual house was beautiful too - a barn conversion with an excess of land for walking. I do miss the seclusion that Norfolk has to offer.

That night, the bridesmaids stayed with the bride and our partners were kicked out to the camp-site (well, yurts) where we would be spending the following night. In bed by a reasonable hour with a hot drink, we were soon fast asleep.

The day of the wedding arrived and as an overall summary I would simply say it was the most relaxed day! We were all up in plenty of time for the arrival of hair and make-up and the photographers (who got an inordinate number of photos of us in pyjamas which I'm hoping don't look as bad as they felt) so helped ourselves to a hearty breakfast of cereal followed by a croissant and washed down with a strong cup of coffee. While each of us took our turn to be beautified, we spent our time between the comfort of the sofa where one of the family dogs was snuggled beneath a duvet for petting and outside in the courtyard/garden in the sunshine, debating whether or not the weather would stay that way for the ceremony in the afternoon. 

Finally, we were all looking like bridesmaids (the bride went last yet was still incredibly calm) from the shoulders up, so it was time to get dressed. I can't lie, I was nervous. My dress had fitted fine but for its length when I first tried it on. But then when I was getting the bottom adjusted, the zip decided to break. It was all a bit of a palaver involving an excess of hook and eyes and tacking. When trying it at home, I felt more than a little claustrophobic trying to get it on (and off again) but on the day, with the assistance of two fellow bridesmaids it seemed to slip right on, and at least I knew that once it was on, it was comfortable and I could sit and move around in it. 

Sewn into my dress, it was the bride's turn and wow she looked stunning! I don't think the novelty of seeing your own friends in wedding dresses will ever wear off. It's a pretty special moment! Finally we were all out of our pyjamas and the photographers could take some attractive photographs!

The venue was literally a 1 minute drive away from the bride's family home so we were soon in Hockering House looking out on the seating area for the ceremony and the aisle. With my dress still a little long, especially as my heels kept sinking into the grass, I think I was more nervous than the ever-composed bride about walking along the aisle for fear of tripping, or worse, ripping the bottom of my dress! 

The ceremony was short and sweet and immediately followed by Pimms as we all milled around on the grass waiting for the signing of the register. Once the newly married Mr & Mrs emerged from the building to lots of cheers, the bouquet was thrown (always stand at the front and hope that the bride's got a strong arm) and it was time for more official photographs.

As weddings go, many of the details were so me! At 4 o'clock we all had Afternoon Tea; perfection! There were a host of finger sandwiches, sausage rolls, cakes and scones to be had, all accompanied by tea (or coffee) and Prosecco. Our table absolutely demolished all we were given, to the point where the hostess flagged down one of the waitresses who was taking a full pot of sausage rolls from another table and requested that they be given to us instead. In addition to full tummies, we also gained two pet wasps (whoever sat us right by the entrance to the marquee, hey?) in a glass who we fondly named after the happy couple. 

Following Afternoon Tea and speeches, there were garden games laid out on the grass outside the marquee, so we went to have a go at croquet... which we gave up on after all of five minutes when we realised it was not our forte. Instead, we moved on to quoits which we were equally as poor at. So we retired to hay bales to sit in the sun and have another drink (because alcohol always improves one's sporting ability). 

Whilst sitting down, we noticed that Giant Jenga had been vacated by other guests, so we thought we'd have one more try at something. Turned out we were pretty spectacular at Giant Jenga as our game then went on until it was time for the cutting of the cake and the first dance despite there being many nail-biting moments where we were completely convinced that it was all over. Relentless. 

Rather than having a cheesy and irritating (as they always seem to be at weddings) DJ, the bride and groom had opted for their own playlist as a means of luring people onto the dance floor, and it was definitely preferable! After a short boogie and the best wedding photo (if I do say so myself) of the bride and groom held by the bridesmaids and their partners (which, by the way, I can't wait to see), it was time for more food, this time in the form of a Hog Roast (so much yum)! 

The rest of the evening passed in a bit of a blur as we drank the bar dry, ate sweets, danced 'til our shoes came off, waved sparklers around, took Polaroid pictures and generally had a very merry time! This time, we joined 'the boys' in the yurts, with a short time spent sitting around the camp-fire before retiring to our inflatable air beds in a 'tent' which we could fully stand up in; I 100% need a proper glamping trip in a yurt! 

Very sad to leave, we made ourselves feel a little better with a massive detour to Cromer on the way home. A visit to the lifeboat house, the Henry Blogg Museum, lavender ice cream, a walk along the beach and of course a paddle filled a large void for a short time. 

All in all, an incredibly beautiful, perfect wedding weekend <3

Cadiz, Spain

Following on from the ‘left guests’ debacle in Casablanca, we did wonder whether we’d be late arriving back into Spain. However, our 10am arrival was as it should have been, so breakfast on the deck was accompanied by the view of a fellow Thomson ship in port (this one enormous and German; we looked a little pathetic to say the least). As we had eight hours in port, and weather in the mornings had failed us in the first few ports, we had decided to give ourselves a well-deserved lie-in (in hindsight, it seems we had quite a few ‘lie-ins’), with a view to heading out late morning/early afternoon (Cadiz was small, we were sure we weren’t going to miss much).

It was all very civilised. At about midday, we set off on the free shuttle bus from the ship to the port terminal... which took less than two minutes. Having walked for forty out of port in Casablanca, we were more than a little dumbstruck to say the least!

From the sun deck over breakfast, we had a-spied a cathedral, so as was becoming the habit, we followed the tower and headed off for an explore. This tower was located in no time at all, and in true British fashion we then joined the queue wending its way from the doors to have a look inside. However, once we had managed a sneaky peek through the door, we decided that the exterior was as good as it got so made a hasty escape and went instead to find postcards (that point in the holiday when you suddenly realise you haven’t sent any, so have a sudden desperate need for them).

Instead, we found ourselves t the bottom of a street that looked like it would lead us to a sea front, so we were drawn by the promise of a paddle. While the lampposts (and dare I say the reek of urine?) may have been reminiscent of Cromer, the colour of the sea, the bronzed bodies and unusual shells reminded us that we were in fact in Spain. Quick to take off our shoes, we rushed along the sand to dip our toes in the clear water... fresh!

Sand batted from our feet with scarves (they’re just so multi-functional), we went back the way we had come to have another go at a postcard search, and to perhaps make a stop for lunch while we were at it. Of course when in Spain, real Tapas is the order of the day (and Sangria, which was amazing, by the way!), so we sat ourselves outside a little café, where orange trees grew and nobody understood anybody (or maybe it was just us, but it all seemed a little... relaxed?). Sangria we managed to order no problem at all, then we made our tapas order and were later confronted with our order which can only be described as being for an excessive amount of food.

Having made an excellent attempt at a crazy amount of food, we were finally able to heave ourselves up in order to walk off the tapas babies we had gained. We found that Cadiz seems to be in some sort of horse-shoe, as we stumbled upon the ‘other side’ of the sea which was very beautiful; lots of garden, pretty benches and fish just below the surface of exceptionally clear water! From the sea, we wound our way back towards the main square as we were reminded of our postcard mission. Here we encountered my parents (even somewhere so small, bumping into familiar faces when on holiday is a very surreal experience) so stopped to exchange pleasantries and to take postcard shop recommendations before going on our merry way.

Having finally discovered a little shop with pretty postcards, we travelled back on the shuttle bus (a little embarrassed to admit that actually, but when one has been wandering all day... all afternoon?) for tasty dinner delights and the Baked Alaska Parade:

Starter – tuna & caviar

Soup – asparagus

Main – lamb shank

Dessert – chocolate walnut coffee cake & mystery sweet sugary things

After dinner was the usual cards accompanied by the Boros Duo and another glorious sunset for which we again risked our lives out on the slippery, blustery decks! Moonlight across the black water followed the sunset – which we witnessed from behind a curtain in our window seat whilst waiting for the Crew Talent Show (I’m not entirely sure whether other guests were impressed by our seating arrangement, but I was pretty content). You know you’re a seasoned cruiser when you’ve seen the same talents from the same crew members before. The belly-dancing barman was a new and welcome addition though... 

Today I climbed a hill

Today I climbed a hill. It’s a hill I’ve been wanting to climb(/drive to) since I moved to the city in 2009, and as my time in Norwich comes to an end, I’ve been attempting to tick off a few spots!

Throughout the year, I’m constantly in a slight predicament. I believe that the reason us Brits talk so much about the weather is because in our country, it’s actually really interesting! I love the seasons; and although I may moan about each one a little when it’s around, there’s certain things about Spring, Summer, Autumn, and actually probably mostly Winter, that I just can’t get enough of. As I began to write in Winter, I’m pretty sure I’ve already hinted at some of my cold weather loves (did somebody say CHRISTMAS and snuggly jumpers?). But finally the season of sunshine is upon us, and I don’t think I’m ever happier than when the sun is beating down on me and I’m lying outside without a care in the world.

Having been spoilt with ridiculously long summers for the past six years, I am very aware that this is my last one of such excessive length for the foreseeable future, so every bit of it is being made the most of! The main aim for the summer, as I’m sure I suggested when writing about the Gorillas, is to embrace my inner Norwich tourist and to explore some of the lesser known (to me) parts of the city. I have, of course, also been making frequent visits to my favourite parts and absolutely intend to continue to do so until someone finally drags me away...

The tourism began with a closer look inside the The Cathedral of St John The Baptist on Earlham Road. A massively impressive building which I have walked past at least every week if not every day on occasion, I had not ever taken a proper opportunity to look inside. I can safely say that the pews are highly uncomfortable, and that lots of ceiling gazing once occurred at a concert, but wandering around was much more pleasant. As Catholic Cathedrals go, it is not too expensive and covered in gold, but instead boasts bold and relatively modern architecture in the grand scheme of things (its building completed in 1910), and is just really very big! No matter where in the world, I like to step into churches and cathedrals – just another 30 to go in Norwich!

In the same day, we also stumbled upon Cow Tower whilst on the Gorilla Trail. Although not nearly as impressive, it made for a pretty picture or two, and I’m glad to have seen it having had it allude me for four years.

The beach of a Monday evening should happen every Monday evening was the decision made after a trip last week! I’m a little bit of a North-Norfolk-coast-snob, but I may have been persuaded that it’s not all bad in this direction after a trip to Winterton (where I had never ventured before) for an evening wander and some fish and chips. I say that I am never happier than when the sun is beating down on me and I’m lying outside without a care in the world, but actually, put me on a beach and it doesn’t matter what the weather! On this occasion we were actually very lucky, as even the sea was a highly acceptable temperature for a paddle – oh I do LOVE to be beside the seaside.

A day spent on Cromer beach yesterday, and I admit the hill (part of Mousehold Heath by the prison on Britannia Road) was a little exhausting as we were battered by winds whilst waiting for the sun to appear for the perfect picture. 

But I could happily sit and gaze at the view of the Norwich ‘skyline’ for a really, really long time.

P.S I know that most seem to go to Mousehold Heath with visions of the ‘romantic’ powers of a view leading to a spot of canoodling, but I’d recommend going with romantic intentions or otherwise! (The ‘awkward-situation-making’ powers, as loud conversation and your camera shutter snapping the view result in teenagers resembling meerkats in their startled state, are also quite the highlight)!

Grabbing horns, bobbing along, childhood nostalgia, and a little history

I can’t believe how long it’s been since I last wrote! I’ve been a crazy kind of busy, and by the time I ever have a moment to sit down and write, I feel like whatever has happened is suddenly rather irrelevant (it’s not just a case of nothing interesting happening, honestly)! I can’t deny I am a lover of being busy and I certainly feel as though I have an awful lot of purpose at the moment, which is never a bad thing! So I write to you with some of the ‘best bits’ of the last month I suppose; just to prove that I haven’t just disappeared into a deep, dark cave somewhere (although there’s still time).

Something that this year has taught me is that I need to grab opportunities and take risks. In a nutshell, there’s been a lot of bull-grabbing – or at least the horns of bulls. One pretty big ‘event’ over the past month has been my weekly swimming lessons! I’m still pretty ashamed to admit that I’m an adult taking swimming lessons, and apparently it’s quite unbelievable that someone who loves water as much as I do can’t actually swim in it? The decision was spurred on by my visit with a year 4 class to the public swimming pool where I had my own school swimming lessons. Memories of watching all of my classmates move up into the ‘big pool’ until I was the only one left in the ‘baby pool’ surrounded by many floats and with no clue how to actually move came flooding back, and the fear of slipping, falling in and just sinking slowly to the bottom made me think it was perhaps time to face my fear. I’m almost at the end of my 6 weeks of lessons now, and my confidence has certainly improved no end; so much so that I will definitely be booking in more lessons, and not just because I still can’t actually swim on my front but because I really enjoy bobbing about, and the exercise can’t be doing me any harm?

View of the Church from Cromer Pier

Talking of swimming, took a very lovely trip to Cromer a few weekends ago (not that I even paddled actually, it was FREEZING and very, very windy so I was a little too wrapped up). The last time I was there I’d been singing in the Church with the Festival Chorus and getting very chilly! It seems I’ve been experiencing a lot of nostalgia this month, because this time I was reminded of trips there with my family as a child when we would stay in West Runton and go off to Cromer for the day just for a change of scenery. I think it may have brought out my inner child slightly as I got all excited along the pier, and was a little over-enthusiastic about the Henry Blogg Museum where I made my very own medal with a fancy press. I have a bit of an affinity with the RNLI as my very own Grandad was on the lifeboats, and apparently in a picture or two at the Museum – which I thought I’d made up so sadly didn’t spot him this time – I’ll just have to go back.

My 'medal' from the Henry Blogg Museum

I’m not usually one for an interest in history, but personal history is always a little more appealing. My violin and bow have now been in my possession for (I think) about 10 years (how awful is it that I can’t actually remember how old I was when I got them even though I remember the whole experience so very vividly??) but I’d never actually looked into the history of my violin until very recently. There is an old concert programme that has sat in the case since the day I took it home, and I’d had a quick flick through it and kept it because it was quite cool having a programme from a concert that the previous owner had performed in.

Concert programme from June 1960, newspaper cutting of a
 photograph from the performance, and my beautiful violin

Little did I know that the owner was actually a pretty big deal in the violin and orchestral world, as concertmaster of the Hague Philharmonic for many years of his musical career! Theo Olof actually only died last year, and has left a huge legacy behind him – I can’t help but wonder if I’m even meant to have his violin or whether perhaps it was stolen many years ago and is still in the process of being recovered? For anyone who has got a bit lost/bored by this last tit-bit, MY VIOLIN IS ON GOOGLE IMAGES, it’s cool. He's also on Spotify performing a bit of Britten (quite apt for this post I'd say):

Theo Olof – Violin Concerto Op. 15 (original version): II. Vivace - Cadenza -

I’m deluding myself if I think that all of this would ever fit on a postcard. Hoping to have a little more time for ramblings so I won’t have to let a load out at once again in the near future!