If you thought blogging on those unsung Fenland villages was tough, welcome to West Norfolk.
Fincham (pop.496) is one of those places you drive past at
39 29 mph, take a look at the Swan with its Abbot sign and Thai deals and think “I wonder“.
Then you get distracted by the sound of an F-35 taking off from RAF Marham and before you know it you’re on the way to Crimplesham, wondering what that Stars and Stripes was.
Wiki says “As of 2013, Fincham has a shop/post office, a pub, a petrol station, a hairdressers and a tree surgeon/log supplier. As of 2015 the shop/post office has now closed, leaving the village with no convenience store.”
Nowhere to buy your BrewDog, then, unless St Martins has diversification plans.
Most of the Fincham 496 (sounds like a new Netflix series) live in spacious but traffic-worn houses along the A1122.
The Swan benefits from the outside stonework, though Proper Pub fans will balk at the banners.
No takeaway beer, or curry, so I’ll have to come back and report on the banter, which might revolves around the voodoo baby doll.
All too quiet, even with the odd van carrying potatoes to Potter Heigham.
The curtains twitched when I stopped to take this sign.
WhatPub alerted me to an unlikely second pub, which turned out to be an upmarket country lodge of the sort normally seen on the A11 to Norwich.
A decent footpath, a wood to wee in, and a found rabbit.
If no-one claims the rabbit by the weekend you can have him/her.