Eleven: Norfolk: Gedney to near Reepham

June 17, 2013

I cycled past Gedney Dyke, beyond which if only I'd known, there were lots of better places to camp than where I finished up yesterday evening, in a field boundary grove not so far from houses. Onward there was a drainage dyke similar to a canal, with a wide bank and hidden from the road by scrubs and trees in places, though the road was no more than a single-track lane and almost traffic free.

The small road continued in straight lines around perfectly square crop fields, many with boundaries of thin tall trees, and came back to the main A16 road at Sutton Bridge across the river Nene, a perfectly straight watercourse.

It all went pear-shaped for me at the other side of the bridge. Cycling on the A16 was a complete no no, and I hadn't seen a blue cycle-route sign since yesterday, so I cycled off along the road running parallel to the river, towards the sea. There was a right turning not far along which I should've taken, but I thought it would most likely take me back to the A16. So I continued on and on; until, I came to a dead end. I doubled back and turned left a the first of a few roads I'd passed, thinking now Is on a road which led somewhere. But oh no, it too came to a dead end. I had to cycle all the way back to the first turning I passed after the bridge. I really don't know what I had been thinking.

Through Kings Lynn and the clock's slow; or, possibly stopped.

I reached Kings Lynn around half nine and stopped for a coffee in Café Nero. The Barista seemed to know every body that came in, calling them by name "and how are you today?" He may have been genuine for all I know, either that or hospitality overkill. And later in the supermarket, the checkout girl inquired "how are you today sir?" "I'm very well". "Are you doing anything special today?" "Yes. I'm cycling to Norwich" I replied. That threw her. And when I asked her how many mile it is to Norwich, she nodded "I dunno".

I followed the "All Routes" sign on the way out of the city and followed the road around until I recognized Is cycling on the same street, that I came into the city-centre, two hours earlier. Then I made my way out and was cycling along an A road which I expected was the ring-road. There was a long stretch without a junction and only turn-offs for industrial estates. When I eventually got to a junction, I found that I was on the ring-road, but still didn't have a clue whereabouts. Though one good thing was, I saw a blue cycle sign. This one had Sandringham on it. I was off to be a royal tourist.

Towards Sandringham. The Queen lives here somewhere. It can't be this house.

I enjoyed the ride along secluded lanes through the royal estate, stopping for lunch along the way. Later I passed along one of the main drives, past the tourists and day-trippers picnicking on the greens. I saw a couple on a tandem and another couple on separate touring-bikes. They were the clean type that stop in guest-houses every night, unlike me, five days on the road and I could feel I needed a wash, and clothes laundered. But I would have to wait to tomorrow because of the setback earlier, after crossing the bridge.