Abnormal in Norfolk

As children, my siblings and I were often forced to walk around the ramparts of various French towns, most notably St Malo. My father clearly thought we imbibed the history from the stones or some such nonsense. Twenty-five years on, and nothing has changed. A wet and windy Sunday morning? Just right for a brisk walk around the Roman "ruins" -- i.e., bits of wall and a few ridges in a field -- of Venta Icenorum, former capital of Norfolk and stamping ground of one tough Norfolk lass, Boudica. Trying to capture a spontaneous, unposed portrait of Family Dumpling proved impossible, thanks to Miss Katie's unerring ability to scent a camera at 20 paces and strike a pose accordingly. Will she never stop gurning?



I rather like Vince's windswept position atop the Roman ramparts though -- very fetching!