
November 2023. Norwich.
I’ve been on the move this week, alternating between Waterbeach, Sheffield, Manchester, Waterbeach, Pembury (Kent) and Rye in rapid succession, so the reports from Norwich are a bit “disjointed”.
Bit like me as I headed back towards the station last Sunday with an hour to go.

Time for one revisit, I reckoned; let’s make it a classic, eh ?

But which one ? I wondered heading back into town through Norwich’s charming (really) western suburbs.


I know you’re dying to see what bargains you can pick off just off the A11.

And it’s always rewarding to see a place and think “I’ve never been here before“,

Philippa Flowerday was the first industrial nurse, appointed by Colman’s in 1878 at 26/ a week to tackle cases of mustard overdosing.
Ah, I’m here.

The Champion faces the Roman walls and frankly is interchangeable with a dozen similar pubs that could represent Norwich in a pub face-off,

but I fancied a Bateman’s.
And I reckon this was a return visit after 20 years or more.

Norwich has thirty-two (32) entries in the Beer Guide, which still seems to be a bit excessive to me when Milton Keynes gets zero some years, but if they’re all as good as the Champion we shouldn’t complain.

Yes, I needed that glass of water, perhaps an hour too late.

The XXXB was good, cool and rich (3), though in honesty it’s the atmosphere you come from. The busiest pub I saw by a mile on Sunday afternoon, and seemingly locals there for no other reason than to drink and chat.
One young woman asks for a taster of Moretti, seemingly the house beer. More folk should ask for tasters of lager. And Guinness.
A bloke kisses his wife while another random chap on the same table eats crisps. It’s not Brunning & Price.

Perhaps they were all there for the karaoke.

Nope. Actually, I don’t recall any karaoke, just a great soundtrack including this one.
And then, just as I finish my dregs and prepare to leave a bloke does get up and head for the karaoke floor.

It is the worst rendition of “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me” I have ever heard. And it’s STILL better than the George Michael version.
All of us are capable of being A Random Chap to someone – even if never to ourselves.
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