Largest Un, a Little Un and me went for a whistle stop tour of Cromer When Saturday Came, mostly because he's not one to dawdle. Not even for a sit down coffee. So me being sulky bought him one to walk briskly with but not for me. The sossidge roll he bought us was nice though.
Cromer styles itself as the Gem of the Norfolk Coast. It might be but on a drizzly grey day you have to squint though a few dusty windows to find anything barely resembling a glimmer. Window cleaners seem to be in short supply. Guess in these covid ravaged times businesses must be on their knees and have no spare cash or credit to hand.
Being a gem on a coast as you'd imagine the sea is never far away, often just round the next corner. A very unfriendly, even cruel sea at times and yesterday it had spat a lot of dummies over the prom wall. Sand and quite large pebbles were being tidied by the municipal cleaner so as not to offend the thronging hordes.
What hordes? Not much thronging in evidence.
Clear throng inducement going down here. Still not quite getting the hang of indoor beer drinking yet, especially the apps and QR code malarkey.
I did find a couple of gems in this lovely tucked away bookshop guarded buy a Little Un.
Doubt you can go wrong with a Gierach, The Eric Taverner and W.E Barrington-Browne peon to an Immortal Trout has the most delicious old book smell, I can picture it in an old book cabinet with leaded windows, bought out to read with a briar pipe on the go. I don't have a briar pipe but I'm sure I've got an old baccy tin somewhere though the tobacco smell might be infused with the smell of crayons. Dalrymple promises practical tips, plain talk and angling inspiration for the open-minded sportsman. It had better, coming out the most expensive at £4.
Love looking at/into courtyard gardens, this one just yards from an amusement arcade. I know where I'd rather be.
This honeysuckle must smell gorgeous in the evening. I didn't pan round to the less fragrant bus station.
Cromer means crabs right?
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