#41 Norfolk -

Pinching a day out of the working week to go for a ride is always a guilty pleasure, Norfolk in unseasonally warm and sunny spells in mid-September trumped a typical factory Friday for sure.

Home to Bernard Matthews’ Turkeys and Delia Smith’s Canaries, Norfolk appealed to me as a potentially ‘easy’ 100 miler just 48 hours before round 3 of the West Midlands CX league.

Generally speaking I’ve been lucky with my journey to each of the county start locations, a combination of pre-planning and good luck has meant I’m normally off and pedalling within 15 minutes of my planned time.

The trip to Norwich was less successful. I got up as planned at 4:45am but from that point plans unravelled. First off as I made my compulsory mug off tea globules of milk floated to the top which meant I had also poured sour milk on my granola. Retrieving a replacement bottle of milk from the fridge in the garage was no better as the BBE date of 3rd August was a good clue that this would be no better than the half a bottle I’d just ditched down the sink.

So an unplanned trip to the 24-hour Texaco garage a couple of miles away was needed to make sure there was fresh milk for everyone when they roused.

That half hour may have been just enough to get me caught out by a closure of the A14 and a painful diversion through Huntingdon at the peak of the school run. It was pleasing to see that many on the school run here were making great use of the cycle paths with streams of secondary school kids pedalling along cheerfully, making far better progress than those of us cooped up in our metal boxes.

I arrived in Norwich City Centre just before 10am, two hours later than planned. I had pre-booked a private parking spot behind someone’s house which was ideally located but it did feel a little bit odd retrieving the permit from the waste bin outside their front door.

In my haste to get moving I made the schoolboy error of not putting my pump in a jersey pocket, more about that later!

The cobbled street leading up to the colourful market stalls was almost a hill, perhaps Norfolk wouldn’t be as flat as I thought.

Bright sunshine illuminated the city centre streets and it helped curate a surprisingly calm, welcoming atmosphere amongst the usual city centre sights.

Having visited Portman Road, home to Norwich City’s great rivals Ipswich town on my ride around Suffolk I thought it only right that I swung by the home of the Canaries, Delia Smith’s beloved team on Carrow Road.

Norwich Castle, perched on a knoll looking out across the city was disappointingly chaperoned by a towering yellow crane and security fencing reducing its’ aesthetic appeal somewhat. Constructed on the orders of William the Conqueror following the Norman Conquest, the castle spent much of its life as a goal, the current rework however is to return it to its more glorious period as a Royal Palace.

Leaving the city to the east I was quickly out of the urban landscape and into quiet country lanes surrounded by fields of beet and other arable crops.

Dunes River Cafe on the banks of the river Bure provided an early excuse for tea and scone. Sat next to the river I enjoyed the huge dollop of cream guilt free whilst taking in a scene that was exactly what I expected of the Norfolk Broads. A wide flat untroubled River barely displaying a ripple of current, a boat yard servicing broad white cruisers and a cafe thriving on serving up cream teas, coffee and cake to a clientele almost entirely of pension age. The topic of conversation at each of the tables revolved around planning the days pub stops and what was on the menu at each.

The Horsey Windpump, a popular tourist attraction has had a troubled existence, built in 1912 as a drainage pump it was struck by lightening in 1943 and the great storm of 1987 further damaged its time ravaged sails putting it out of action until restoration work completed in 2019 saw the sails turn once again 76 years after the lightening strike brought them to a standstill.

My route only briefly skirted the Norfolk Broads and shortly after passing through the village of Horsey I was heading north along the coastline. Many friends had described happy memories of family holidays on the east coast but with this being my first time visiting the area I was keen to see what I had missed.

Sea Palling, the first beach of the day failed to impress, the wide strip of sand hidden behind high dunes was home to a couple of traditional striped windbreaks and would be perfect for games of football and volleyball on the sand but for me the surrounding countryside just had nothing to draw me back.

As I climbed back over the wooden steps spanning the dunes my front tyre felt decidedly spongy as I bounced it down each step, closer inspection at the roadside revealed a large shard of glass surrounded by the tell-tale pink halo of Muc-off sealant doing it’s job. No drama I thought tubeless to the rescue again, just give it a few strokes of the pump and off I will go. Ahh! That would be the pump 50km’s away in the car in Norwich City Centre that should be in my jersey’s rear pocket. I used my one CO2 cartridge to inflate the tyre and then googled the nearest bike shop. Dr Wheelgood Cycles in North Walsham was 10km away about 90 degrees to the planned coastal route. I had a choice, detour, add in some extra kilometres or risk riding a further 130km with no way of inflating a tyre if I had a puncture. £30 later armed with Dr Wheelgood’s most compact pump, two additional CO2 cylinders and a spare bottle of sealant I felt fully protected for the remainder of the ride and certain that my purchases guaranteed no chance of a further puncture so that I could rue being £30 out of pocket all the way back to Brum.

Curiously Happisburgh is one of those bizarre place names you frequently come across in the UK that is not pronounced anything like it is spelt, pronounced Haze-borough it seemed a shame that the happy is removed. Another fine sandy beach, history of some of the most ancient Britons, Northern Europe’s oldest archaeological sight and the 22-mile Deep History Coast trail suggested a location I would be in awe of when I was planning the Norfolk route, the reality left me underwhelmed. It was interesting, it was pleasant, it was clean and peaceful but something just didn’t inspire me about this coast.

The bold red and white hoops of the Happisburgh lighthouse did however grab my attention, with grumpy looking clouds framing it’s dominant stature it proudly looked out to sea. It is the only independently owned lighthouse in Great Britain and the oldest in East Anglia.

Keeping to the original plan for a fuel stop just before leaving the coast I pulled up at the Corner House Cafe in West Runton, drawn to it by the crowds sat outside enjoying the mid-afternoon sunshine. Located at a surprisingly busy junction I supped on a Cappuccino and tucked into an excellent homemade flapjack whilst watching others start their wind down for the coming weekend.

I did a quick calculation and realised if I was going to complete the planned route the total distance was now going to be close to 190km and a dark finish was probable. With only a daytime running light fitted at the front I plotted a shortcut back to Norwich that would complete the required century but hopefully see me back at the car before sundown.

I cracked on and all was going well until I crossed the bridge at Lenwade about 17km from the finish, here I was confronted buy a Police road block. “Where you hoping to get to?” asked the young copper. “Norwich” I replied, “I’ve got 90 miles in my legs please don’t send me on a detour” I half-jokingly pleaded. “You can’t pass this way for another hour, have a rest it will do you good” he said sauntering off to give the van driver behind me the same bad news.

I wasn’t waiting an hour so backtracked and looked for another route. Eurovelo12 the North Sea Cycle route showed up on Komoot as running parallel to the Norwich road about 200m away. That will do for me I thought. As I peered down the compact gravel track in front of me contemplating whether I had the tyres for an off-road jaunt into Norwich, Ron, a friendly local cyclist took one look at my Pirelli Cinturato’s and beckoned me to follow him – “you’ll be grand with them” he said.

Ron soon picked up the pace and we whizzed along the tree lined trails talking all things bike. Gravel was his thing and he was passionate about the gravel trail opportunities in Norfolk and how he barely rides on the road anymore, regularly riding 80km from his front door without coming into contact or conflict with any traffic.

As I left the trail and said goodbye for the last couple of Km’s in the city centre solo I couldn’t help but think a gravel route would have shown Norfolk off in a much better light. Another adventure to be had for sure.

Strava

The ride in numbers

162.73km Distance

Elevation Gain 1028m

6hrs 46 min moving time (24.0 km/h)

2 coffee stops

1 puncture

1 categorised climb (honest!)