Friday, October 27, 2006

It is a fine city; it says so on a sign on the A40!

Weekends in Norfolk don't just involve tramping around Roman ruins in fields; there's the medieval joys of Norwich's center to appreciate, too. Last weekend, we broke the habit of the past year and skipped Loch Fyne in favor of a trip down memory lane -- or to be more precise, Elm Hill. I attended a ballet school for several years as a young child before discovering that my inate lack of grace and rhythm meant I was better suited to drama classes. However, before that soul-shattering realization, I would visit the Britton Arms coffee house before each class accompanied by partner in crime Sally-Ann. We'd share a hot lemon squash before running back up the hill to the dance studio; to a couple of six-year-olds, this seemed like the height of sophistication. This time, however, we had a rather nice lunch in the small garden that the owners have opened up at the back of building, overlooking St Andrew's Hall. I can highly recommend the hot apple juice: autumn in a glass.




















I also revisited the topic of one of my high school projects: Norwich's Guildhall. Proving the value of history in the curriculum, I can't remember a damn thing that I wrote -- but it's still a beautiful building, and only enhanced by having a decent cafe (with excellent toilets) inside now. They also sell fab local chocolate, Caley's. Try it.















Finally, much more modern but just as impressive in its own way is City Hall, home to the largest number of Green councillors in the UK. My friend Lucy got to work here in our gap year, while I set up a bridges database at the stunning example of 1960s brutalist architecture, County Hall. She got all the advantages of working close to cafes and the M&S food hall, while I had to make do with the (admittedly excellent) sausage rolls at Norfolk County Council. But I digress: You've not seen civic pride until you've witnessed thousands of people cheering a giant inflatable canary on top of City Hall.















I'll swipe a quote from Wikipedia to sum up my feelings for this city:

"A fine old city, perhaps the most curious specimen at present extant of the genuine old English Town. ..There it spreads from north to south, with its venerable houses, its numerous gardens, its thrice twelve churches, its mighty mound....There is an old grey castle on top of that mighty mound: and yonder
rising three hundred feet above the soil, from amongst those noble forest trees,
behold that old Norman master-work, that cloud-enriched cathedral spire ... Now who can wonder that the children of that fine old city are proud, and offer up prayers for her prosperity?"

George Borrow, Lavengro (1851)

1 comment:

Mondale said...

I often used to wonder how on earth the Luftwaffe managed to miss City Hall during the raids of WW2.

Well did you know that Hitler had selected the monolith (opened by King George VI in 1938) to be spared. He wanted to take the Nazi salute from it's balcony after the inevitable German victory.

Give me the Milk Cup winners over the Fuhrer anytime.