Careening around East Anglia
Trip Start
Sep 15, 2008
1
7
14
Trip End
Oct 06, 2008
Norwich,
England,
United Kingdom
Friday, September 26, 2008
Anyway.
We picked up a snappy little rental Renault in Norwich (pronounced Norridge) and honest to God were so flummoxed by the car and navigation system that I had to flag down a young man returning his car to the rental agency parking lot and beg him to program the English version of the Bossy Tart so we could drive to Watton, which is near the village Jerry wanted to visit. This the young man did, so quickly that of course I didn't get what he'd done and then fought with the damn thing for the next 4 hours as we tooled around the countryside, narrow roads, Jerry sweating bullets, marital snarling, me punching the tiny screen of the TomTom (that's what it's called, don't know why, it's like the dish liquid "Fairy") and shouting at it.
But we did it! We found Watton and a used bookstore where the tall, balding owner in an old cardigan knew about the sixth Lord Walsingham, the eccentric who came to California in the 1870's and discovered a ton of moths and described them, an icon to Jerry. Apparently, his descendant, the 9th baron, lives in the tiny village of Merton. I accosted a contractor on the street who told us how to get there (I accosted many, many people today; if we've come this far, we're by God going to see what we want to see). In Merton--really more of a settlement of elegant old houses than a village--we saw not a living soul to ask about the estate's location, so we turned, at my urging, down a private, gravelled lane, and pulled into a driveway. Lo, and behold, a pleasant man in his fifties came to see what we wanted. He was so helpful that he got on his bike and LED us to a spot where we could see the chimneys of the old house where the current baron lives. Then he told us how to get to the original estate, Merton Hall, a vast stately home greatly reduced by fire in 1956.
Jerry and I hiked down a mowed "public path" and got a good look at the estate from across a field. We walked far enough that we saw the village church and the gatekeeper's cottage. Got a picture of J. with the estate way in the background and a Shetland pony trying to con some food out of him, very persistent (Jerry referred to this as a "junior horse.")
What a piece of detective work. And we're not done yet--tomorrow we resume searching for old books and people who know the current baron.
As for Norwich--we're in a budget motel, Premier Inn, that requires your room key/card to operate the lights in the room. Scant towels, teeny, no fridge. We've been spoiled for a week...
Comments
Oh Lizzie!!
Memories to last a lifetime. What adventurers you two are. Positively inspiring. I'm loving this blow-by-blow replay of all your exploits. Please don't stop.
Love Love,
L & L (& furry L)
Hilarious!
Laughed and laughed at the stroy about driving about the back roads of England. For some peculiar reason (perhaps because I am left-handed and uncoordinated to begin with?), I have never had a problem negotiating the right-hand drive--the traffic all looks normal to me that way, but my mother-and-law can tell you an unbelievable story about the day we tried to find the estate on which the Pemberley scenes were filmed for the A&E production of Pride & Prejudice. HOURS of wandering about followed by getting directions from a little old lady who was sitting in a tourist information stop knitting (I kid you not!). I dropped MIN off to do the asking of the knitting woman, and promptly got into all kinds of trouble, because there was nowhere to park and NO way to get back to that spot. It took me something like 30 minutes to do a massively circuitious route through one-way streets. Fortunately, Mother-in-Law had the good sense to simply stand there on the pavement (proper term) and wait. I think she knew the whole lifs story of the knitting woman by the time I got back to her. I have not been to the part of England you are currently touring, but had a similar adventure one day trying to find Gilbert White's house at Selbourne. First you take a bus to nowhere, and then you get another to even more nowhere. Then you walk. No one led me, but I bet they would have! I love the English. Keep the posts coming--you are brightening up my dull hours of reading student work that is redeemed by being slightly more literature than Sarah Palin on the subject of Putin entering Alaskan air-space.
PS
Literate....literate! Clearly, I have been reading too many papers and listening to too much Sarah.