A brief visit to Norfolk

After a rather hectic January, it was nice to get away to get away for a long weekend and travel up to Norfolk, for the chance to visit my ageing father. I felt bad not having seen him since the autumn, but with his Alzheimer’s becoming gradually worse it’s unlikely that he remembered yesterdays’ visit. As I’ve said before, my sisters and I are just relieved that he seems content in himself,  is being well cared for and doesn’t want for anything.

The other reason for us going away is we are having a complete bathroom re-fit, and our absence allowed the builder some additional time to crack on, without having to work around us. It was also good from our point of view to have unfettered access to proper washing facilities; something which hasn’t been easy these past few days.

I took Friday afternoon off  from work, and after collecting Mrs PBT’s from her workplace, we headed off in the direction of East Anglia, following the well-worn route of M25, M11, A11 and A47. There was the usual shenanigans at the Dartford Crossing, with  traffic virtually at a standstill from the junction with the A2 to the crossing itself, but once through the tunnel, we made good progress, despite the large number of lorries on the road.

If proof were needed of the huge amount of freight being moved by road, and the gridlock which even the smallest of delays for extra custom checks will cause, then this was it. Government ministers and their lackeys are probably isolated from this though, so they remain in blissful ignorance, whilst ignoring it at their peril.

We encountered the odd snow flurry as we passed from Essex into Cambridgeshire, but it was nothing like the amount that had blanketed Kent in the early hours of Friday morning. We eventually arrived at  our home for the next two nights, the Norwich West, Premier Inn, adjacent to the Norfolk Showground.

As Mrs PBT’s says, you know what you are getting with a Premier Inn, unlike some of the places I have taken her to in the past; something she never seems to tire of reminding me about. Mind you the motel in Ilford we stayed at back in the mid 1980’s, following a friend’s wedding, really did take some beating for seediness.

My excuse that the groom had booked it on behalf of several of the wedding guests, didn’t cut it either, so whilst I have never minded “roughing it” myself, I have always been a lot more circumspect when my beloved is in tow!

I stayed at the Norwich West, Premier Inn several Christmases ago, on one of my last visits to see mum and dad, before their health and life situation took a turn for the worse. The icy weather was similar on that occasion too, so on the first evening we decided not to venture far, settling instead for the pub-cum-restaurant adjacent to the hotel. Table Table is a brand of restaurants set up by Whitbread in 2008; the majority of the outlets having been converted from Brewers Fayres.

The hotel was busy, due to an antique and collectors fair taking place over the course of the weekend at the Norfolk Showground opposite, so I was glad at my wife’s foresight of booking us a table, when we checked in. We perused the menu from the warmth of our room before heading down to the imaginatively-named, “Showground”, for our evening meal, so were ready to go as far as food was concerned. Beer though, was a different matter.

I remembered my previous visit, when  I was served a pint of Adnam’s Southwold, only to find it ruined by it being pulled through a “sparkler”, so what tricks have they up their sleeves this time, I thought.

How about no cask at ale then? And only bottled Brew Dog Punk IPA to interest me, at a price in excess of £4 a bottle? To be fair it was Mrs PBT’s shout, and the beer went well with my Thai Green Curry, and given the nature of the establishment, I shouldn’t have expected much else, but even so?

Well the curry was good, even though the chef had rather over-did the chillies in the accompanying “hot slaw”! Hot wasn’t the word, and after that assault on my taste buds, any beer with fire-quenching properties would have sufficed, but the following evening, the same restaurant redeemed itself somewhat, with a perfectly reasonable pint of Doom Bar.

It was obviously fresh on, and I scored it at 3.0 NBSS. Perhaps I should have been a little more generous, as you couldn’t fault the quality. However, the blandness of the beer itself, did it no favours, so under the circumstances 3.0 was a fair enough score, especially as a chain restaurant is unlikely to make the running for the next Good Beer Guide.

We visited dad on Saturday afternoon, and he was in good spirits. It’s hard to tell whether he recognised me, but I like to think that he did. We had planned a trip to the coast, but after some shopping (Mrs PBT’s favourite means of relaxation), plus coffee and cake, a hailstorm put paid to our plans.

Sunday dawned frosty and bright, and was in fact the best day, weather-wise we’ve had for a long time, but regardless of this, we headed for home, stopping off at Thetford for breakfast, on the way home.

We arrived home to find the house in chaos, with Larry the builder still beavering away. The majority of the tiling is complete and we have a posh new toilet and sink. The former is working and the latter should be plumbed in tomorrow. We are still waiting for the shower tray and screen to be delivered, but once these items are fitted, it should be all systems go.

We’re a year behind our original schedule, but there was of course, my wife's pneumonia and resultant hospitalisation at the start of last year which threw a rather large spanner in the works.

I will leave until next time a write up of the really nice pub we found, on the way back from seeing dad, as it’s definitely a place worth reading about, and also visiting again, on our next trip, so bye for now,