Guess who – guess what! Pictures of the week

 

It was too good an opportunity to miss. Seven friends all batting on my patch and they wondered if I would take photographs of them… WHO ME?

Beginning in Horning we invaded/ took over the small café attached to “The Galley” an amazing Deli in Lower Street. It came highly recommended and no one was disappointed. The word is that they do a terrific breakfast. No one in our group was around at that sort of time, but we did our best to work through their specials at lunchtime, which were seriously scrumptious. Dear reader go there for you.

Who was Harry Worth?

The Headbangers

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Back out on the street over an hour later the mood was to suss out the Broads’ Authority Boardwalk at Irstead. Parking, of course where we ought not to have done, we donned our tropical kit and anti-midge cream and made for the broadland jungle (along a well cultured wooden highway, suitable for even the most basic wheel-chair). A terrific display of woodland flowers especially Marsh Marigolds, birds in plenty, if only one could see them, and dragon-flies, if only one could avoid the few kamikaze individuals who insisted on doing direct sweeps in one’s direction.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then it was back to the river again by various routes – all at the same time (don’t you hate ‘in jokes’) to Ludham bridge in fact where Ruth and her trusty galleon from the Nancy Oldfield Trust awaited our arrival. Nancy Oldfield Trust is a Broadland based charity at Neatishead and Barton Broad which provides sailing opportunities for the disadvantage and disabled. Terrific work – send them money!

 

 

 

Judging by our navigation skills and the lack of speed getting on and off the boat, I think we qualified in both respects. Away down river we went. The sun shone, the water gurgled and our passage disturbed all sorts of wild life, which many of us failed to grab our cameras in time to photograph. Could it have been our tuneless rendering of “Happy Birthday” – no not sung for me – they never discovered that.

Crested grebes dived, a grey heron deserted its nest and a marsh harrier passed silently overhead as we steamed in the direction of the river Bure.

We happy-snappers fared better at St Benets Abbey. The gatehouse and the crumbling ruins could hardly flee away so there was much detailed photography at that location – even hyperfocal focusing – if only I could manage that – so like the outlaw I hid in the reeds (quick Arthur Ransome reference? Oh well never mind). Down on to Malthouse Broad we motored seeing ducks, geese and the odd swan. Then home, back up the dyke, on to the river and away up the Ant to Ludham.

Athletic bee!

Wonderful – all cameras intact, no one fell in and not even a trace of mal-de-mer. Just photographs – none, I hope, too incriminating of a memorable trip.

 

Next week fewer words and back to picturesque images.

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