Tuesday, 11 January 2011

A day out Ragged Rambling...

Attending: Esotericus; Biddy Bowlwell; Dr. C.T.G. Knight; Mrs. Bull-Merde; Philip Grumpage; Tristan Tweed-Dandy;  Zachery Stumble-Shivers [Please note: if you wish to enlarge the photographs, hover your cursor over them and click]

It was a glorious winter day on Sunday last, when I travelled with some other Ragged Ramblers to visit sites in North-West Norfolk...

Walking the earth-works at the Iron Age fort at
Warham
We began the day with a visit to the delightful church at Bale. It is recorded that in the mid-Nineteenth century there was an oak tree some 36 feet in circumference in the graveyard here...


Ramblers marvelled at the fine assemblage of medieval glass therein...


I stood with Dr. C.T.G. Knight in the church porch as he expostulated and gestured extravagantly about the delights of this wonderful place...


In this vivid winter light, beneath a huge Norfolk sky, I could only concur with Dr. Knight's comment in the visitor book...


We decided to move on to visit Binham priory, via the remains of the Iron Age fort at nearby Warham (see first photo, above). Although I had recently visited this site with Aunty Gary and Maximillion, I was only too happy to return. As we approached, I grabbed the steering wheel from the alarmed Biddy Bowlwell and leapt out of the motor vehicle, camera in hand. Oh what a vista, as the priory stood framed against the bluest of skies...



Ramblers standing amongst the ruins - photo taken
by Dr. C.T.G. Knight (lite)

Having perambulated the Binham site we ate heartily, consuming, among other things, home baked sausage rolls, a variety of splendid cakes and flasks of 'Tangle & Hump Premium Blend' tea. Ratherer!

And so, with full bellies, off we went in the direction of the coast. Arriving at Cley church we disembarked and made our way around the graveyard...


It was all splendid - splendid I say!



~ Esotericus ~

2 comments:

  1. Funny thing, that picture of the oak reminds one awfully of Great Aunt Botilda-Jane, or The Great Bot, as we called her. She'd been a Memsahib most of her days, the toast of the Mess in her bloom, it seems.
    Us kiddies were terrified of her, but fascinated, too - she'd let you put your fingers in a deep hole under her hair, souvenir of once driving a young male tiger out of the kitchen with just a horsewhip.
    All her servants and the local wallahs worshipped her, thought she was some kind of white witch, especially after she "restored" a dead donkey to life; told us all she'd done was pour some absinthe down it's neck from her hip flask!
    Always got great presents from The Bot - gave me my first mix of Shag when I was eight. Remarkable, that likeness.

    Oh and by the way, can someone tell that fellow in the tweed brim that urinating on graves doesn't kill nettles after all, that's just an old wife talking.
    Nice Warham photo.

    Bumper C-S

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  2. Great atmosphere, great skies and photos. I especially like the moodiness of the good Dr's work and it would I think be fitting for a RAGGED RAMBLERS Album cover should they ever choose to release one.

    The Yarnsmith of Norwich

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