City 'til I die!

Ah, Spring in England. Is there anywhere finer? Why stop there? Why not narrow it down to a fine city in the East, perhaps Norwich? And for a month let us choose May.

The fifth month, as we all know is a time of decisions. Who stays up? Who goes down? Who lifts silver to the sky gods and who completes two promotions in as many years? These happy cyclists are on their way to worship at the alter of Mr Lambert of Carrow Road, off they go, bells ringing and smiles a wide as the road they travel!
These fellows were lost. Lost and foreign but delightful in their bemused enjoyment of thousands of Norfolk folk in their revelry.
The message was clear, come footballing success, come large plastic banners with the club's motto.
I spent a large part of the festivities in an ancient churchyard, the view was awful but the noise and atmosphere was real enough. I was also amused by rowdy teenagers letting loose in the sacred space. Then again, if Jesus were around in Norwich he would be enjoying this (or kicking us all out of 'the temple' for being sacriligeous, your call).
Flags and crowds abound.
The other side of St Peter Mancroft's yard.
Soon I was joined by a friend working in the city. Following the disappearance of aforementioned 'yoofs' we moved a few feet away from my initial perch and found our view much enhanced. City Hall, a 1930s masterpiece. OK, a massive block admired by Hitler (he ordered the Luftwaffe to avoid bombing it during WWII so that he could take the salute from it's balcony following a German victory).
The flag flies over City Hall.
More flags, more people taking pictures.
The Lord Mayor was greeted with the traditional football call to recognition "WHOAREYAH????" My companion was concerned about such disrespect "I voted in the referendum" he pointed out.
The banter, shouting and jollity continued for an hour or so.
Then, following mildy slurred words and an expletive from Delia we all trooped over the Forum to wait for the bus.
Theatre Street. Waiting. Architecture geek moment. Look at the 14th century church on the right. Everything else is postwar. This area of Norwich was flattened in 1942.
Looking the other way, still waiting. The kids in the bottom right of this picture (with the flag) were mucking about and must have stood on my foot about three times. I didn't mind.
Then, slowly, down the street, a bus full of drunk footballers!
YESSSSSSSSSSS!!
The real deal, this is why we are here! A bunch of great looking, young, tremendously rich blokes with incredibly hot wives and girlfriends who play football for a living get to ride a Double decker bus through the city!
And then they pass.
And so it's off to the pub.

I must have taken about 100 pictures last night. I sat on the train home, folk around me singing the songs and messing about. Me? I was a bit wobbly after a few pints and some bangers and mash with some friends. I sat there deleting the very many blurred shots and pictures of the back of strangers heads. I hope they tell something of a fun night to celebrate a brilliant season.

Merry Christmas

This one is aimed directly at Weasel.

Frau Random Doubt, the wee Hen and I went 'up the city' on Thursday to do a spot of lastish minute Christmas shopping. I was dreading it.

The first day of the school holidays? The city? parking? driving? crowds? working class people?

The mere prospect of a day (or a significant part of a day) spent hauling around Norwich filled me with anguish. Can't we just do all this online?

"No", said FRD. "We need to get some specific things right now".

So off we went.

Parking was much easier than I had anticipated. Ummm.

There seemed to be fewer people about. Great.

One of the specific things we needed to get was a small football for Balfour. For some reason this had proved problematic (in a country clinically obsessed with footy it was difficult to get just the right type of ball). I had pondered this and decided upon hitting the city and finding a cheesy sports store. My words "I'll get the lad the ball he wants or I'm no uncle and we shall never celebrate Christmas again!!"

We take the lift in the slightly swanky department store to the wrong floor. Bugger. But there, as the lift doors part, there it was. A fantastic, reasonably priced mini football of exactly the type Balfour's parents had suggested.

We knew it was going to be a better than average day.

While FRD went into the worst mall in the world I took the wee Hen to the local museum to buy a museum pass (free entry to about half the museums in the county for a year!) The museum was a blissfull oasis of calm and tea. we spent an hour, looking at watercolours and stuffed polar bears. It was a truly rarefied moment, and the baby changing room was very good.

This day is actually becoming enjoyable.

With great ease we found and purchased gifts for my impossible to buy for mother.

Unheard of. Other family members still do not believe this bit.

Then, with our shopping done, the weather gorgeous and not many crowds we spent a couple of hours strolling. yes, strolling the streets looking in windows and having a delightful time.

I even introduced FRD to the great childhood game of 'Go into the old fashioned hardware store via it's entrance on this street and navigate your way through old fashioned hardware store's three floors of brushes and plumbing supplies until you re emerge from it's other entrance on the other street'. She loved it!

Weasel, the picture is for you, a Norwich institution and still feeding the masses as it did when we were lads!