The 'Quick' and the Dead

There's nothing quite like starting the day with the most amazing breakfast and a good giggle. Most places look at you askance if you decline the full English and don't even want eggs so to have the option of a great big bacon buttie was fabulous (Mim, you would totally have approved - mega crispy bacon, as requested - yum). So there we are, happily tucking in, when some other guests joined us in the dining room - two exceptionally elderly gentlemen and their companion, a woman of a similar age but in significantly better health. One poor chap had no sooner manoeuvred himself, inch by inch, shuffle by painful shuffle, into his chair, than the waitress invited them to help themselves to the buffet that he'd just walked past, for cereals and juice. At this stage, just so you don't think I'm completely heartless, and seeing the defeat on his face I felt really sorry for the dear old thing and wondered why the young slip of a girl couldn't read the situation better, bend the rules and provide table service. Nevertheless, she didn't so the arduous process of shuffling back to the buffet began again. A few long minutes later, and now reseated, I heard the gent turn to his lady friend, holding aloft his glass of ruby red juice with a quizzical expression on his face. Here's how the brief conversation went:

"What's this then?"

"I think it's cranberry juice", she replied

"Eh? Lyme Regis? Means nothing to me" 

Laugh? I nearly choked on my buttered toast. Sorry.

If yesterday was largely an education in arboreal and floral Norfolk, today was about wildlife. Sadly most specimens were either too quick to catch on camera* or squashed into the Tarmac, but nonetheless fascinating. We were excited to be barely 20 feet from a huge hare that came lolloping towards us only an hour into our walk this morning, and shortly afterwards were being eyed suspiciously by a circling red kite** overhead as we passed what we believe to have been a nest of chicks high in a tree. Later a family of 6 or 7 weasels ran across our path and a shrew popped out to see what the fuss was about before realising we were a wee bit bigger than him. 

I did manage to snap a cute little frog but stopped short of photographing the impressive 18 inch long male** adder, freshly squished into the road surface which we didn't think would be quite as interesting on film as it was in the flesh.

The walking today has been tough on the feet and legs. Mainly on 'metalled roads' (a phrase used extensively in our guide book today: Tarmac to you and moi) and pretty much a straight line, we only passed through three small villages with very few facilities, and were both suffering from the pounding underfoot by the time we arrived in our daily destination. 

Our chosen spot for lunch was North Pickenham, named after the Saxon, Pica, where my feet enjoyed a wiggle in the sunshine whilst I took delight in a (wait for it Steph and Vicky) .... 'big, big samwidge' 

We also passed the third Songline Sculpture (HRH described the second one as looking like a chunk of municiple car park, and he was right, so the photo got junked), a Cluniac Priory and passed through the Bailey Gate as we entered Castle Acre delighted to have completed Day 2.

* Confession: For this first photo montage I cheated. Thank you Google.

** HRH has been Googling too!