We managed it in the end.  Opened the iron gate and trod up the path to the kitchen porch where I had to wrestle with the coded key container before we could unlock the door and get in.

An interesting house.  We entered through a slip of a kitchen, modern white cabinets and a ceramic hob.  The central room had a three piece chintz suite around the fireplace and TV in one half of the room, and a wooden dining table and chairs, and dresser in the other half.  The front door steps straight into the street, with no garden.

To our right was a winding staircase up to the top of the house.  Very steep, I had to clutch on to the banisters and tread carefully so as not to slip of the thick carpet. The first floor had a bathroom (small) and twin bedded room (square and comforting).  Then up the winding stairs again for the double bedroom at the top.

The top bedroom is extraordinary.  One long window on the left looking out over the lights of Lincoln, plus a smaller window at the far end behind the bed, also looking over the city. It is like a space capsule come down to rest, you feel it could take off again at any minute, balanced precariously on the top of the house.

So down again to the ground floor.  But arriving at the foot of the stairs, what is that other doorway on the far side of the room?  An embroidered bell pull guards the way.  Down the black stairs, and you step into the tudor house.  An almost empty room.  Two doors, and black and white squared flooring. Chairs and a table with National Trust leaflets, a square tapestry of a hunt in woodland on the wall, and another spiral staircase, wooden, leading to …

A perfect, magical sitting room.  You see it first from floor level as you climb, carefully, the twisty wooden stairs.  There is a golden wooden floor.  White and black walls, showing the timber frame, slope at angles. There are some elegant chintz and wooden chairs, standard lamp, and a wooden table.  Carefully you hold on to the metal rails, and step up, and into the past.

We had a marvelous time in Lincoln.  The Cathedral is beautiful, and we loved the library, half medieval, half Sir Christopher Wren.  The castle was also fun.  We saw the prison,and  the original castle bailey, the walls now home to pigeons and doves. The castle is also home to one of the major charter and garters of the realm, in fact *the* major charter, as in Magna Carta, one of only four originals.

A delicious lunch in the Wig and Mitre, then we explored the shopping sections and bought some pate and bread in the French Market for supper.

The house is even more wonderful in the day time.  The top bedroom is filled with light and the views stretch right to the horizon.  It is like living in the goldfish bowl, although surely no-one can see in as we are above them all.  Red roofs and gables fall away to roads and more endless roofs (some industrial) to green fields and a pylon in the distance.

The central sitting and dining room is nice, but, dare I say it, a bit gloomy.  This was not helped by the fact that it was freezing cold until I worked out, towards the end of our second night, how to override the timer and turn on the heating.  This room, unlike the other rooms, does not have a lot of natural light, and the sombre faux tapestry fabrics used  by the National Trust (who manage the house), although presumably in keeping with the character and age of the building, do not do anything to lift the room.  Some deep red, orange, green or gold would have made it a lot more cheerful.  However the room has a good atmosphere and we could image being happy, living there permanently.

The house also has two, parallel, gardens.  The first garden, which abuts the road, was, I imagine, once a vegetable garden.  It has that vegetable patch feel to it.  At the time of our visit (mid March) it had green shoots and some primroses.  This is the garden of the tudor house, and its door leads to it.

Behind this is another strip of  garden belonging to the younger and larger house behind.  Outside the kitchen door (where I had wrestled for the keys) is a small table and chairs for patio dining.  The garden has more a feel of an ornamental garden, although again all we saw were green shoots.  Looking down on it from the windows above, it seems also to be a raised garden as the land behind is at a lower level.  But these things happen when you build on a steep hill.

As you will have guessed, the house is in fact two houses.  Number 42 is eighteenth century, and the larger of the two.  It is a nice solid three story stone brick house.  Number 40 however is fifteenth century.  It is just one room top and bottom, and has two stories.  The black and white square floored ‘entrance hall’ as described by the Trust below, and the special sitting room above.

Patrick found the room first and claimed it as his.  Graeme spent sometime in there watching the rugby on the ‘second telly’.  But of course it was really mine.

I would sneak over with my mug of tea and sit looking at it.  In point of fact it is not totally perfect.  There are stains on the back wall, probably as a result of the flat roof above it to the rear.  I could see a speck of daylight next to one of the wooden beams in the wall and under one of the windows.  But it has a lovely atmosphere.  There are windows on three sides, which makes it wonderfully light.  A window overlooking the street, Michaelgate, two windows (one of them wonderfully crooked) looking over the garden to the side, and a very small window to the rear.

There is a magical feel  to it.  It brings to mind time traveling stories read in childhood, of stepping through a door to find yourself living in the past.  It reminded Patrick of a secret room, and a story teller telling tales.  Maybe it is really a Tardis, such as that owned by Professor Chronotis, in St Cledds College Cambridge, in Shada.  Find the control panels and the windows would show us different scenes from its past.

We said goodbye to the Crooked House with reluctance.  It has  been a great privilege to stay there.  We had a wonderful two days, and will be back.  One day.


Roofs of Blickling Hall

We love Blickling and have been there loads of times.  However today we were gong to walk in the park.  Our trusty Pub Strolls in Norfolk book had reminded Graeme of the woodland walk and the pyramid mausoleum, so that was our destination.

“Shall we have lunch first or walk first?” I asked, which was perhaps a bit of a silly question as Patrick had been moaning about being hungry for the past half hour.  The Buckinghamshire Arms is another favourite place and they do very good Sunday lunches.  So it was with considerably tighter waistlines that we set off on our walk.

The lake at Blickling

A little bit later, Graeme: “I think we need to be over there”,  as if it was the first time anyone had mentioned it, “where those people are, look there’s a gate”.    So we crossed over and walked up to the gate, which did indeed lead to the woodland path.  “I’m glad I thought of this” said Graeme happily, “I was right after all”.  Sometimes it’s best to say nothing.

Walking in the woods

The Pyramid Mausoleum at Blickling

Bluebells

The Samphire Shop at Blickling

No visit to Blickling is complete without going to the superb Samphire shop for some of their excellent pork pies and sausages.  And so back home again. But we will be back to visit the house and gardens again another time.   

Castle Acre Village Sign

Having agreed to go out, it was mildly frustrating not to be told where. “You’ll find out soon” said Graeme irritatingly, “You said you wanted a surprise”. However after we had sighted the wind turbines at Swaffham he admitted that the pub could have some connection with a large bird. Easy then to guess Ostrich, and therefore of course, Castle Acre.

About 9-10 years ago we had had stayed over Easter in one of the cottages very close to the Ostrich. It had been a magical holiday. Being there had been like being in an enchanted bubble, the sun was either shining or just about to come out from behind a cloud, and the whole place had a feeling of timelessness. I remember we once went for a longish walk, when looking back we realised that we had passed outside the bubble into ordinary life, and it felt as if somehow a light had gone out.

Castle Acre Priory

Coming back it felt just the same. I expect people who live there have the same fears and troubles as the rest of us, but it is still a very special place.

One of the main attractions at Castle Acre is the priory, lovingly maintained by English Heritage. It covers a huge area, and is a dramatic building, even in its ruined state. It must have been increadible when it was in use

Castle Acre Priory

Looking at the web-sites here and here, it can be seen that it was founded shortly after the Norman conquest in 1066 with the church being consecrated in about 1148.

Castle Acre Priory

Needless to say it was suppressed by Henry VIII and it is presumably in the period after this that the buildings were largely destroyed, the stone no doubt being re-used in many local houses and cottages. Eventually the land was purchased by Sir Edward Cokes, along with the castle in 1615, and are it seems is still owned by his descendants today, although the Priory site is managed by English Heritage. Apparently when questioned by King James, anxious about the growing size of his estates, Coke said “But my Lord , ’tis only an Acre I have acquired!”

We spent some time wandering around the ruins, which are very extensive, before eating our packed lunch sitting in a row on a bench in the sunshine. The bench was in what was once the lady chapel, it was odd to be sitting eating our lunch in what was once a large and no doubt rich and solemn church. The ruins have a number of helpful plaques and information boards so we could tell which areas were part of the church, where the refectory was (we should have eaten there really), and the latrines – although I was able to spot the cloisters for myself.

The Ostrich Pub, Castle Acre

After this it was necessary for us to have a drink in the excellent Ostrich Pub, together with some chips for Patrick.

Then over for a walk around the castle, which is very up and down. When pointed out to me by Graeme (who is very knowledgeable abut these things) it was fairly easy to see where the different parts of the walls and so on had been. It has a superb defensive position. However I have to confess that I have never really got over the mild castle fatigue I acquired on our holiday in Northumberland some five years ago.  However as Graeme and Patrick feel differently about them, we tend to visit quite a few!

While at the castle we could see a huge black cloud coming up over the hills so this was clearly a sign that it was time to go. Indeed on the way home we had quite heavy rain, although we managed to leave it behind before we got home. But we will return to Castle Acre.

“I think we should go on a country walk” I said to Graeme, my husband, throwing over ‘Pub Strolls in Norfolk’. “You choose.”

Half an hour later, after I had checked my emails and done us a packed lunch, he announced that his chosen walk was the New Buckenham one. So off we went.

New Buckenham Market House

I had never been to New Buckenham before and it proved to be a lovely village. We parked near a delightful green, with two adjacent pubs, a post office (closed) and an ancient market house, complete with whipping post.

The directions in our guide book, which were a bit difficult to follow on the ground, eventually (after a circular diversion past the church) took us to King Street. This had two more shops: a butcher (closed) and bric a brac (open but we thought not). And this led us to the road to the castle.

The castle at New Buckenham is one of Norfolk’s hidden treasures, and of course the main reason why Graeme had chosen this walk. First you need to get the key from the nice, but very talkative, man at the garage. For this you pay £1 each. After you have managed to get away, you cross the road, go up the public footpath on your right (which turns into a wide green lane) and then there it is on your right – the Castle.

New Buckenham Castle

The castle is described in the various web sites as a Norman stone and timber ringwork and bailey fortress, founded by William de Albini II, in 1145.

You approach it via a huge gate structure (heavily padlocked, hence the need for the key) leading to a bridge over the moat. Trees lean over the path as you walk up towards the castle grounds and once there you are completely private. It is magical.

The main area is a large flattish grassy plain which looks as if it could get marshy after rain. The remains of the castle are off on one side (to the far right as you enter), and the whole area is surrounded first by a high tree covered bank, and then, after a steep drop, the moat. No-one can get in.

Only a single story of the castle remains, and there is no roof. The interior is divided into two halves. Although it is very small (for a castle) and there is no dais, it reminded me a bit of the castle remains discovered by Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy in Prince Caspian by CS Lewis. It had the same sense of peaceful silence described in the book.

We then sat on one of the two thoughtfully placed benches outside, blinking in the sunshine, eating our ham sandwiches, listening to the birdsong, and trying to guess the identity of a upright brown bird hopping along the grass. “We must do this more often” we said to each other.

After lunch it was, of course, necessary to walk the perimeter. This was a bit scary in places. There are steep steps to get up there, and in many places the path is narrow with a perpendicular drop to the moat below.

New Buckenham Church

On the far side of the castle plain there are two black patches, obviously the remains of large fires. When you reach that point on the perimeter walk, you can see that there is another one in the field on the far side of the moat. No doubt they could tell a tale. Firework parties? Barbques? Or maybe pagan ceremonies? There is also a nice view of the church and village.

We were sad to walk back across the bridge and lock up the gates behind us. But we will go there again. Definitely.

However I had heard that there was another side to Great Yarmouth so we decided to hunt it out. Following guidance given from helpful leaflets on the railway station we made our way to the historic South Quay where we found the charming Elizabethan House Museum, owned by the National Trust. It is apparently famous as the place where the execution of King Charles 1 was plotted, but leaving that aside, it is the most delightful place and despite being a museum has a very homely feel to it. In fact it is the sort of house I would love to live in, and over lunch (in a very nice local bistro) we worked out what we would do in the various rooms, were it ours.

After lunch we strolled further down and found two delightful houses maintained by English Heritage called the Row Houses. They are where those working in the herring industry used to stay, for example the ‘girls’ who came down from Scotland to clean the fish before processing. The houses were nice if a bit empty of furniture. Looking out of the window it was good to see a gang of kids playing in the street, probably exactly the same as the kids who lived in the museum houses.

The last place we went to was the truly extraordinary Great Yarmouth Pottery. This building, built largely of old scraps from ships, and with a fresh water well in the main room, was once a herring smokehouse and after about 70 years you can still smell the fish. However the building is now a museum and working pottery, filled with the genius of Ernie Childs the potter and artist. You see not only the place where he works together with work in progress (and get a lesson on how they create their mugs) but also an amazing collection of artifacts of marine and fishing life, plus you can watch a short film on the history of the herring industry, while sitting on benches made from the herring girls trunks. Upstairs there is a small cafe (with toilets wallpapered with out of date nautical charts) and large shop where there is a wonderful selection of mugs, ornaments, china clocks, pottery crab dishes, and all sorts of other items, all made by Ernie in his kiln. We bought three mugs to remember it by.

So back to the grindstone tomorrow, but it has been good taking a day out, and I will think differently of Great Yarmouth in future.

Ormond Castle

Fresh from a holiday in Southern Ireland, I must tell you all about a gem of a place we discovered – Ormond Castle. Situate in the pleasant town of Carrick on Suir, this comprises a ruined medieval castle and (we were told by our guide) the only intact 16th century manor house in Ireland.

However what none of the online sites or indeed the published leaflets I picked up tell you, is that in a room off the main entrance are a set of eight original charters granted to the family by the English monarchy, all beautifully illuminated. (What I, as a 1066 and All That devotee, immediately recognised as being prime examples of the Charters and Garters of the Realm.)

Ruined tower

They are the most beautiful documents, most still with their original seal, and little bag to put the seal in. Wonderful pictures of red and gold dragons, unicorns and other fabulous beasts, together with life like portraits of the reigning monarch of the time. Three of Charles II, instantly recognizable with his heavy eyes, one of William III, one of William and Mary, and two of Queen Anne. I think there was also one other but I forget who.

The two portraits of Anne were interesting – the first one in 1703, when she had just become queen, showed her face looking rather thin and worried. The second one in 1710 showed her looking less worried and noticeably more plump. I have never been particularly familiar with this period of history, but reading about Anne in Wikipedia she does not seem to have had a very happy life.

Black Tom

The house was built by one Thomas Butler (hence the Butler pub on the approach road to the town), 3rd Earl of Ormonde, known locally as ‘Black Tom’ on account (according to our guide) of his black hair and eyes (which you can see in the portrait on the left and also here), as opposed to the more usual Irish red gold hair. The family appears to have been stinking rich, largely due to their rights in connection with wine trade, allowing the young Tom, fresh from education in England and the Court of Queen Elizabeth I, to create this lovely manor house, in which he hoped one day to entertain the Queen (her portrait and crest is repeated many times in the original plasterwork on the walls) but sadly never did.

So if you find yourself in Tipperary, I would suggest a visit to Ormond Castle – there is no charge and the guided tour is excellent. As well as the charter room, you also get to see the rest of the house, climb the tower and see the original oak beams (marked by the original carpenters) in the attic.