Norfolk 25-27 May 13

On Friday it rained. It rained some more and then, for a change, it rained again. We had spent some time negotiating the ridiculous Caravan Club booking system to obtain 2 nights at the Incleboro Fields site near Sheringham and we were really in two minds whether or not to go as it was a bank holiday and the prices are horrendous, plus the roads would be jam-packed. Anyway - go we did and arrived on site after a long 2.5 hour drive in quite heavy traffic, but at least it was dry!

After the usual indecisive meander around the huge site looking for a pitch, we eventually found a nice, near level spot quite near to the exit. We laughed at the caravans pulling in and trying to arrange wooden blocks to suspend their sheds up in the air to cope with the sloping pitches, and shook our heads at the attempts to take over the world with awnings, sunshades, windbreaks and various other paraphernalia.

On Saturday I unhitched the bikes and we cycled, cross-country, into Sheringham, where we meandered around, had a nice lunch in the pub, bought a lovely fresh crab for tea and then cycled back for a bit of a sort out of the bus ready for the next jaunt. We also managed to negotiate a further nights stay and the weather looked set fair for a change.

The following day we walked into Cromer, decided we didn't really like it all that much, and walked back along the beach, again buying Cromer crab for a nice sandwich for lunch (although the Sheringham crab tasted better). In the afternoon we had a bit of a relax in the sunshine and then, after dinner pootled around the lovely smelling hills (the gorse really whiffs of coconut at this time of year) to watch the sun go down. The only downside were the families along the row a bit from our pitch. The kids were fine - it is the mothers who insist on conversing with their offspring at a decibel level that any Guards drill sergeant would be proud of! Why DO they do that?  I thought children had sensitive hearing?

On Monday we were up and gone whilst the shed-draggers were still dismantling the huge circuses they insist on attaching to their vans. The queues of traffic heading for the seaside were a sight to behold.

The site is nice, but we have done this areas to death now and it is time to go elsewhere as it is just too far for a weekend away.

Stoke Ferry Norfolk 10-13 May 13

The plan was to meet up with Martin and his narrowboat on a site that is adjacent to a navigable waterway and fairly close to friends in Downham Market to enable a visit. After much research we came across Grange Farm Touring Park, and it was there we set up for the weekend after a very turbulent and bumpy journey across the Fens on a Friday evening. I learnt to drive in London, so little on the road worries me too much, but Fen drivers....well, words fail me.

We arrived at about 1930hrs to find Martin lurking by the gate waiting for somebody to provide him with food. Accordingly, we rustled up fish and chips, only to find the gas bottle ran out half way through and we didn't notice that the oven had gone off as we were too busy drinking wine! Anyway - after a delayed meal and lots of booze Martin staggered back to his boat and we staggered off to bed.

The Priest's Hole at Oxburgh Hall

On Saturday morning, our tame boat owner once again appeared looking for food, so we fed him bacon rolls (or "bread buns" as he describes them) and we headed off to the local National Trust house, Oxburgh Hall, where we spent a delightful few hours exploring this lovely proprty. We then trundled off along the A10 to another delightful property - Beers of Europe, the largest beer shop in the UK! To appease the memsahib, we then had a pootle around a very nice furniture shop before retiring back to the site for dinner on the boat (which, somehow, I managed to end up supplying and cooking (and trying to carve a joint with a knife that is as blunt as a rolling pin is no easy matter)).

The following day we again fed the mumping water gypsy, before setting off on his boat for a cruise to the pub to meet up with the Taylors. After a very pleasant cruise along the river Wissey, we arrived at Hilgay only to be told that the local pub was pants and the Taylors would take us to a much nicer pub in Denver. Accordingly we squeezed into their car and had a superb Sunday carvery with lots of food and great company. We parted at Hilgay and set off for the 2 hour cruise back to the campsite (it is only 7 miles by road), just as the rain started to come down. We arrived back at the site, moored up and repaired to the bus for cheese and biscuits and more wine.

On Monday we were up early, told the scrounging git to get his own breakfast and we headed for home.

As for the site - it was great for what we wanted. Very friendly owners, very clean facilities and a very good location. There is a bit of road noise, but that is a minor issue.

Brighton and Emsworth 25 - 28 Apr 13

It's been a while since we've been away, mainly because the bus has been with Swift (ha!) having some modifications done to the belly bins to ensure that the whole thing stays dry and damp free. So, complete with hard to open and ultra-watertight belly bins we set off for a bit of a tour to the South.



Walton

 

The first port of call was a quick stop at Walton to enable family visiting duties to be carried out. The walk to the station doesn't get any shorter, but I did have a nice stroll along the riverbank on a sunny morning, only to find the narrow footpath to the station blocked by a very large horse, who couldn't turn around in the narrow space. I was facing the biting end, so nervously I moved towards the beast and quietly suggested that Tescos were looking for some more lasagne filling and should reverse back into the field where he may be safe. Luckily he heeded my advice and reversed. Walton is having a lot of work done to it and is a very good site. Shame about the local area though.

On Thursday is off to Brighton, arriving at the Caravan Club site on a bright sunny day. Quickly setting up, we then meandered along the seafront and into Brighton, enjoying a delightful al fresco lunch listening to a jazz band, before sampling a few pubs, the pier and then heading back to the bus. I had left the awning out to protect the fridge from the sun, and at about 4.30am the wind suddenly got up and started rattling the awning. Having visions of us setting sail for France, I got up and silently rewound the the awning before going back to bed.

Brighton from the pier

 

Friday saw a leisurely breakfast and then a run along the coast to the Camping and Caravanning Club site at Emsworth, near Chichester. This is a small site with nowhere near the sumptuous facilities of the Caravan Club, but it is nicely located and we set up and walked into Emsworth, had a very nice cream tea and trundled back for Moules Frites in the bus.   On Saturday we caught the bus from outside the site for a somewhat laborious trundle in Portsmouth and Gunwharf Keys, where the mad woman managed to buy lots of things, but treated me to lunch to make up for my suffering. We then had a walk to Spice Isalnd and Portsmouth Old Town, then on to Southsea (horrible pleasure park) and then to catch the bus back to Emsworth.

In all, a nice little run out and the two sites on the south coast are certainly worth visiting again.

Brighton Marina
 

Moules Frites