Bob has been on his travels again - This time to Norwich and Great Yarmouth.
I was off for another reunion with a friend from the quiz show. Anthony this time, who had also been at the Brighton meeting a few weeks before. I didn't really need much of an excuse though, going to Norfolk is never a chore for me, it's still my favourite part of the British Isles.
The trip over was long - 5 trains long to be exact, but everything ran smoothly with Ant waiting to meet me at Norwich station. We met up with a couple of his American Football friends that night and had a few drinks. Well, 'few' is a bit of an understatement, particularly as Ant finished drinking a yard of lager to round off his evening.
Side note here. If you ever met Ant, the last sport you'd think he played would be American Football. He's not exactly built like a Gridiron player, but by all accounts he's very good at it. The bruises all over his arms confirm the rumours too :)
The next day, with Ant nursing a slightly sore head, we made our way to Great Yarmouth. Two reunions, two different seaside towns. It was lovely weather thankfully and there was a round of crazy golf thrown in. For the record I won by three strokes.
Another side note here. Hole 2. A fairly straightforward affair, straight line to the pin, but with an uneven playing surface inbetween. The fairway also narrows halfway down, flanked by two imitation stone pillars. My opening shot was a gentle putt down the centre, finishing a foot or so from the target, and a simple tap in for a score of 2. Ant's opening shot? It was as though he'd taken a 3-wood out of his bag. He drove the ball like he was Tiger Woods at St Andrews. If it hadn't been for one of the pillars getting in the way the ball would be halfway across the promenade by now. It ricocheted off the first column, onto the second column, back to the first column, then fell straight onto the fairway. The slight slope and camber of the surface made the ball trickle slowly towards the hole, and down it went. The most dramatic hole in one I have ever witnessed.
Next day we walked into Norwich city centre for a few drinks and a bit of shopping. We met up with one of his current flat mates and his future one. A nice bunch of people all round. Talking of walking though, I think I've racked up over 7 miles in just three days. (ok, that's not a lot ofr some people, but it is for me) My blisters are back and ready to burst, not forgetting the sharp stabbing pains in my shins. All good excerise I suppose :)
Walking back to the flat on the penultimate night, we came around a big sweeping corner just as a car came flying towards us. A typical boy racer, probably showing off to his girlfriend. As just a side comment I turned to Ant and said:
'I bet he hits something, driving like that'.
As the car passed by us, around the bend there was a screech of brakes, the sound of a car crossing onto the pavement, and the heavy crunch of a collision. We ran back to see what had happened, and it was no surprise to see the car at a slight angle, just ahead of a desimated fence. He drove off, not to escape, just to move the car off the road and the ear-piercing scream of a wheel rim scratching the tarmac echoed out. It was closely followed by a tyre bouncing across the road. Never a dull moment in Norwich!
On the Sunday morning Ant left me to go to a Football game, so I walked myself to the train station. I gave myself nearly an hour to get there, but it was only just enough. It was 3 long miles away!
A great trip, a great friend, but now there are no more before Malta...
...oh, and of course, Bob came too.
p.s. I've since looked up the distance to the station. 2.2 miles. I feel bad now for thinking it was over 3 :(
I was off for another reunion with a friend from the quiz show. Anthony this time, who had also been at the Brighton meeting a few weeks before. I didn't really need much of an excuse though, going to Norfolk is never a chore for me, it's still my favourite part of the British Isles.
The trip over was long - 5 trains long to be exact, but everything ran smoothly with Ant waiting to meet me at Norwich station. We met up with a couple of his American Football friends that night and had a few drinks. Well, 'few' is a bit of an understatement, particularly as Ant finished drinking a yard of lager to round off his evening.
Side note here. If you ever met Ant, the last sport you'd think he played would be American Football. He's not exactly built like a Gridiron player, but by all accounts he's very good at it. The bruises all over his arms confirm the rumours too :)
The next day, with Ant nursing a slightly sore head, we made our way to Great Yarmouth. Two reunions, two different seaside towns. It was lovely weather thankfully and there was a round of crazy golf thrown in. For the record I won by three strokes.
Another side note here. Hole 2. A fairly straightforward affair, straight line to the pin, but with an uneven playing surface inbetween. The fairway also narrows halfway down, flanked by two imitation stone pillars. My opening shot was a gentle putt down the centre, finishing a foot or so from the target, and a simple tap in for a score of 2. Ant's opening shot? It was as though he'd taken a 3-wood out of his bag. He drove the ball like he was Tiger Woods at St Andrews. If it hadn't been for one of the pillars getting in the way the ball would be halfway across the promenade by now. It ricocheted off the first column, onto the second column, back to the first column, then fell straight onto the fairway. The slight slope and camber of the surface made the ball trickle slowly towards the hole, and down it went. The most dramatic hole in one I have ever witnessed.
Next day we walked into Norwich city centre for a few drinks and a bit of shopping. We met up with one of his current flat mates and his future one. A nice bunch of people all round. Talking of walking though, I think I've racked up over 7 miles in just three days. (ok, that's not a lot ofr some people, but it is for me) My blisters are back and ready to burst, not forgetting the sharp stabbing pains in my shins. All good excerise I suppose :)
Walking back to the flat on the penultimate night, we came around a big sweeping corner just as a car came flying towards us. A typical boy racer, probably showing off to his girlfriend. As just a side comment I turned to Ant and said:
'I bet he hits something, driving like that'.
As the car passed by us, around the bend there was a screech of brakes, the sound of a car crossing onto the pavement, and the heavy crunch of a collision. We ran back to see what had happened, and it was no surprise to see the car at a slight angle, just ahead of a desimated fence. He drove off, not to escape, just to move the car off the road and the ear-piercing scream of a wheel rim scratching the tarmac echoed out. It was closely followed by a tyre bouncing across the road. Never a dull moment in Norwich!
On the Sunday morning Ant left me to go to a Football game, so I walked myself to the train station. I gave myself nearly an hour to get there, but it was only just enough. It was 3 long miles away!
A great trip, a great friend, but now there are no more before Malta...
...oh, and of course, Bob came too.
p.s. I've since looked up the distance to the station. 2.2 miles. I feel bad now for thinking it was over 3 :(
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