November 2025. Norwich.
We daren’t travel too far at the moment, with declining parents and unsold properties, so it’s lucky I can get so much joy from an afternoon in a big city walking suburban streets,
gazing at street art and churches, and only having to choose which pub to nip in and eavesdrop on Narrrrfolk conversation about the Canaries and their new 3-5-2 with midfield overload.
Leaving the sole new Beer Guide entry on Unthank Road (yep, a real street, Russ), I weave through dull suburbia towards the Roman wall for 15 minutes, scanning What Pub the CAMRA app for a good revisit to end the trip.
Well, the Trafford Arms look nice.
A GBG perennial, and I haven’t blogged about it so it’s years since my visit. “Homely” is the word, a mix of unfussy if not heritage status seating.
More cheery neighbourhood local than beer shrine, but as prescribed by local CAMRA law you still get a scary looking hand pump count.
As I approach middle age I enjoy being proved wrong, and I’m delighted to say that not only are some Norwich pubs not irredeemably middle class (“suffocatingly Norwich” as Simon memorably wrote), but beer quality often defies my usual “one pump good, ten bad” rule.
More Fat Cat, a chewy Milk Stout just lacking that last bit of crispness to push it into the top tier (NBSS 3.5), but rich and chocolatey.
A perfect fireside beer.
Some brisk cask trade centres on the Nene Valley Simple Pleasures, which looks stunning sitting on the bar.
The Trafford is run by the famous De’Aths, who to avoid unintended offence should surely rebrand to Def and just play Public Enemy deep cuts in their lovely pubs.
Instead, you get “You’re the Inspiration“, “Take on Me” and Enya. If there’s a more Orinoco Flow city than Norwich I’ve yet to discover it.
On one table a group of friends have ordered the cheese platter. It’s SO enormous that even I say “WOW“.
A chuckling young lady drinking Strawberry cider is updating her white wine and Ghost Ship parents (or cousins, which is the same thing in Norfolk) on her exciting life. “He never got me tested” the tell-tale punch line.
In the Gents I head for the middle of three urinals, leaving a bit of a squash for the chap who follows me in. “You should NEVER pick the middle urinal” we agree.
Right, waddle back to the station, via the Red Light district,
and end the night with a shish kebab from Waterbeach Best Kebab, who are so posh they now have those vibrators that pings when your food is ready.
Golly it’s gorgeous.
retiredmartin 
A good stout by the fireside is now my mission for the day!! Great read, thank you 😀
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We enjoyed the Trafford so much in 2012 we each had 2-3 pints. After which we walked to Kett’s Tavern only to have the female publican try to sell us a calendar of nude ladies of Norwich. Back side only, of course. She proudly pointed herself out. We then walked to the Wellington in the pouring rain with assistance from a young lady in an office. It was dark and pouring so we could not read our map. It was worth the Oakham Bishop’s Farewell.
Dick
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This is what’s missing from informative pub sites.
Thanks Dick.
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“She proudly pointed herself out” might be the nearest you’d get to “a good time” in Norfolk !
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The lighting on the Trafford Arms picture is very atmospheric, including that of the burglar alarm. I remember Enya being interviewed on Simon Mayo back in the day, him cracking jokes and she not getting them at all. The radio team took the p out of her after she had hung up the phone.
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“Ethereal” is the word for Enya, but then Clannad that she was part of weren’t exactly jokers.
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“SIMPLE PLEASURES. THE TRAFFORD ARMS, NORWICH”
(looks at pic above)
(slow golf clap for the title)
“We daren’t travel too far at the moment, with declining parents and unsold properties, so it’s lucky I can get so much joy from an afternoon in a big city walking suburban streets,”
I heartily approve of you being able to take in the simple pleasures of life at present. Trust me, it keeps you from bloody well going off of the deep end. 👍
“and only having to choose which pub to nip in”
Ok, I heartily envy you being able to… choose which bloody pub to pop in.🍻
“and eavesdrop on Narrrrfolk conversation”
Ooh, ooh! I know a poem about Narrrfolk. Girls of Narrrfolk actually. 😇
“about the Canaries and their new 3-5-2 with midfield overload.”
Ok, you’ve milked that enough. One more overmilking and it will be butter!
“Leaving the sole new Beer Guide entry on Unthank Road (yep, a real street, Russ)”
Yes, yes. That intersects a teeny, tiny, Golden Triangle apparently. 😉
““Homely” is the word, a mix of unfussy if not heritage status seating.”
See, there you go acting like Si. Over here, ‘homely’ means a rather plain, or unattractive, person.
“but as prescribed by local CAMRA law you still get a scary looking hand pump count.”
Blimey.
“As I approach middle age”
Your ‘approach to middle age’ is like that philosophical snail that travels half the distance to the finish line each day. It will never actually reach it. 😉
“and I’m delighted to say that not only are some Norwich pubs not irredeemably middle class (“suffocatingly Norwich” as Simon memorably wrote), but beer quality often defies my usual “one pump good, ten bad” rule.”
I like what Dave said in your linked post about Si:
‘For someone who posts long novels each time he blogs he can be incredibly concise at times.’
“A perfect fireside beer.”
I may try to get Beachfire Brewing over here to switch from their Dry Irish Stout to a Milk Stout, for the winter. Then I’d grab a growler every week to have a glass by our (gas) fire.
“The Trafford is run by the famous De’Aths,”
(checks the link)
Blimey; for a second I thought they were in the, what we call over here, MAID trade (assisted dying, courtesy of our ‘revered’ government, who are always looking at ways to not pay pensions.
Also, the “Deaths” website is really too frou-frou. No Spice bags there I’ll bet!
“If there’s a more Orinoco Flow city than Norwich I’ve yet to discover it.”
(looks down, clicks)
So that’s what that song is called!
“On one table a group of friends have ordered the cheese platter. It’s SO enormous that even I say “WOW“.
What, no pic?
“is updating her white wine and Ghost Ship parents (or cousins, which is the same thing in Norfolk)”
Burn! 🔥
““You should NEVER pick the middle urinal” we agree.”:
Agreed! (and, focus!)
“Right, waddle back to the station, via the Red Light district,”
(no comment)
“who are so posh they now have those vibrators that pings when your food is ready.”
Everyone’s going frou-frou.
Cheers
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“Really too frou-frou”
Or too much 3-5-2 ?
I love Simon’s writing, and I’d never tell him how to blog, but I’d actually read more if they were less, if you see what I mean.
Duncan the Pubmeister and Life After Football are perfect length for me.
Thanks for reading !
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(slow golf clap) on the 3-5-2 5 thingy. 😎
I agree with you on Si’s writing, as well as Duncan and LAF.
No offense to others but you, and those three, fit my commenting style. 😉
Cheers! 🍻
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You’ve explained that very well.
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Oh, the cheese platter, I tried to take a pic on the way back from the loos but the group obstructed the cheese.
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How rude! (of them) 😁
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