And so to North Walsham, to finally put Norfolk to bed. Isn’t pink marker the only true colour ?

Great Massingham, no more

A rare chance to enjoy the delights of the Bittern Line, admiring the dramatic landscapes and graceful architecture of Roys of Wroxham.

North Walsham

North Walsham is one of those places you only go to if you live there, get lost on the way to Cromer or visit GBG pubs. I’d been there once before, so I was quite excited as I got off the train, and I don’t say that about Norfolk often, do I ?

Not much street art in town, so here’s a dose of nature.


And not a lot to say about the town, but that won’t stop me. St Nicholas Chuch is a market town gem, for starters;

Ruined tower symbolic of the state of cask

The real treasure here is the statue of St Duncan of the Pub Tickers in his ceremonial “GBG completion gown”. Note busts of Angel BRAPA and Angel retiredmartin at his feet.


I also liked the market square, though they don’t need to convert that shelter into a micro pub as they already have one.

Where are all the people ?

I would have stopped at the cat pottery to mould something for Mudgie, but the spelling of grammer upset me a bit.


No idea what this Fosters ad was all about; perhaps it’s just arrived here.

No idea

The Hop Inn has the courtesy to even look like a micro pub, cowering under Smith’s Jewellers.

Hop Inn

Four tables, six folk, all of whom looked round as I entered (presumably to count my Fen fingers). It’s a micro-micro pub.

Rare Hi-Vis jacket in micro

Very cheery, though, even if I had to sit at the bar as two blokes were taking up whole tables, which shows the problems with micro seating.


Quite pubby, with tradesmen, a bloke having a quiet pint (an excellent Lacons, NBSS 3.5+) and Old Boys discussing FaceTime and compooooters.

Really good. In fact I’m worried how good these titchy pubs have been lately.

Down the road the Orchard was even friendlier. The pub had cars outside, so here’s a statue of someone old.


This is just a comfortable local, opening early on Fridays for tradesmen but doing most trade when the cat pottery is shut.

The landlady was cheery and chatty, keen to promote her local beers, even if I was always going for the Lacons, which tasted a bit like Wherry (NBSS 3+).


The chat speculated on whether the Queen would be any good in goal for England (yes) and Premiership WAGS being better than the ones Norwich City were stuck with.

I think they’d got their material out of the venerable EDP.

Gotta love the EDP

Anyway, that’s Norfolk nipped.

Tomorrow, it’s the return of this lil’ fella.

Si desperate for a first pint


  1. I wonder about the Queen as a keeper sometimes.

    But consider this. What do Jewish Denmark supporters say, when Schmeichel misses a save?

    (Mrs E, of Hebraic ancestry, was little help)


  2. I’ve read somewhere that “the icy wind, straight from the Russian Steppes, rattles the panes as it howls mercilessly outside” Norfolk pubs but those black jackets look as if they will do a decent job in keeping the beer at the warm enough, i.e. at the perfect temperature.


  3. Ha ha- very good. That gown cost me a pretty penny to hire I can tell you. Was also in there recently – it was doing a good trade and served up the best beer of the day. Well done on finishing Norfolk – a tough county. I still need that one at Garboldisham that only opens at weekends.


  4. Just think if you and Simon, by chance, had ended up choosing the same type of highlighter pen for your respective copies of the GBG– we’d all have been deprived of the pleasure of reading the two of you argue about which one was best! ๐Ÿ˜‰


  5. “Isnโ€™t pink marker the only true colour ?”

    (bites tongue)

    “Note busts of Angel BRAPA and Angel retiredmartin at his feet.”

    Shouldn’t one of you be pink and the other green?
    (shades of NI!)

    “Where are all the people ?”

    Swimming, or waiting for a train to get the hell out of there!

    “but the spelling of grammer upset me a bit.”

    Hmmm. With the right Norfolk accent that could be a school to learn how to be a grandma? (rolls eyes)

    “(presumably to count my Fen fingers).”

    Now that summer is over… gloves are your friend. ๐Ÿ™‚
    (maybe mittens?)

    “and Premiership WAGS being better than the ones Norwich City were stuck with.”

    I’m ‘guessing’ that’s not Wild Ass Guess? (just kidding!)

    “Tomorrow, itโ€™s the return of this lilโ€™ fella.”

    Thank goodness I’ll have time to devote to you lot this weekend!*


    * – sigh; the wife’s been running me ragged the last few days (of course when you decide to do four posts a day!) Promise to catch up; eventually. ๐Ÿ™‚


  6. We’ve got one of those Winstanley cats in my daughters bedroom. I’m not a cat person but they’re very well done and the pottery is interesting to visit.

    Having read the papers this morning, you are obviously one of the 56% who wouldn’t ask (tell) someone sitting in your reserved seat on the train to move. When faced with table/seat joggers I always find a loud, sharp – You don’t mind if I sit here mate do you’ and a direct stare, delivered just beyond the point of no return as you sit down always works. If done correctly you will find that 56% of the ignorant twits move on pretty sharpish and you end up with a table of your own. And if they don’t you might end up having an interesting conversation. Ooops, I forgot people don’t talk to strangers in pubs (anywhere) down there do they.


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