“I spy, with my little eye, something beginning with N.”
We had circumnavigated the M25, the London orbital motorway, in a dreadful stop-start fashion and then followed the satnav into the wilderness up the M11.
Felix loves to play ‘I spy’ on these occasions. I had spied many things, during this lengthy journey. Water towers, bridges, windmills, you name it.
But as one delves deeper into Norfolk – England’s curvy behind, at the base of its spine- was it my imagination, or was the street furniture getting less?
Felix umm-ed and aah-ed over N. Was it inside or outside the car? He asked.
Both, I said. Neither.
I confessed eventually. N was for ‘ nothing’. The skies got bigger and broader, dwarfing any detail; and just when it seemed we could not travel a minute longer, We spotted a sign for our village. Three quarters of a mile away.
We found our accommodation: an ancient little terraced cottage with hollyhocks at its base. Its address includes ‘Off The Road’ as a formal line.
Small but perfectly formed, it is known as a cottage where dogs are welcome. Rose the golden lab stayed here last week, and a cairn terrier the week before. Thus Macaulay has been posturing and positioning, though their musk is all that is left, and if he met them in the street everyone would be huge friends.
The canny cottage owners have furnished the sitting room with a long low upholstered stool. It can accommodate a small dog, and the small dog is quietly delighted. He parked there soon after his arrival, and does not move from it for anything less than a walk or dinner.
The whole village is very, very old, but because I have no signal here I cannot, this morning, tell you how old. I’m guessing Saxon and older.The place is full of cobbledash houses, some thatched, of long barns with doors and windows bricked up which must have been open five hundred years ago. In the south I would have hazarded that this was once a monkish settlement; but Norfolk is famous for its wealthy farmers.
Long and low against the vast sky, the whole place looks out on a Constable cow field where cream-white cows chew the cud and appraise the new family and their cartoon dog as they amble by.
No wireless, and no signal. it’s going to be a quiet week, so apologies to my blogging friends.I shall write, but who knows when I shall post, or when I shall be able to visit my cyber friends?
I am in the back of beyond.
And about to sample the beach.