Another peaceful night, and we didn't hurry to get up. It's too cool to sit about outside the motorhome, so there's only going for a walk to keep us occupied really.
The online news this morning was quite depressing. There had been fighting in Birmingham (nothing new there) involving drunks of all ages according to witnesses, and a number of stabbings including, sadly, one death. Given the sloppy attitude of so many people regarding the precautions individuals should be taking regarding the spread of coronavirus I would have no hesitation in closing the nightclubs down. Starting in Birmingham, just to make the point, followed by all others nationally if there are further such episodes. In my opinion they should never have been allowed to re-open.
'Extinction Rebellion', the current in-vogue 'Save the Planet' Rent-a Mob, are being a nuisance again, blocking access to the printing of our free press as well as other disruptive action.
Last year in Cambridge, about twenty miles from us, they caused chaos for about ten days by sitting down en-mass at a very busy road junction. And what did the police do? Nothing, absolutely nothing, except, on camera, confirm their right to peaceful
protest. I find that interesting because I bet if I went to that very same junction alone and sat in the middle of the road causing the same chaos I'd be arrested for obstruction. I have one suggestion - when these unwashed vandals glue themselves to doors
etc - leave them there. Put a police cordon around them and just leave them, after all an illegal act has been carried out and they would need to preserve the evidence. Within twenty-four house of being stuck there, cold, hungry and with peed pants, they're
gonna wish they hadn't done it. In fact for those left glued to the side of a London Underground tube train, having travelled round the Circle Line for 24 hours, could in later life be grateful for that experience when the tie break question in their local
pub quiz is 'Name the London Underground station located between Tower Hill and Cannon Street'.
Finally, Jessica Krug, 38, a professor at George Washington University in Washington DC, and whose work focuses on Africa, has admitted she lied about being black. She is in fact white. "I have built my life on a violent anti-black lie" she says. Well I tell you what love, don't beat yourself up over it - I had an Eccles cake yesterday with the same problem. It looked golden brown, but underneath it was black, so I know how you feel. Besides, what difference should the colour of her skin make? If she was delivering her lectures in a fair and balanced way I don't see what difference it makes, unless of course she was delivering them with a chip-on-the-shoulder attitude, and blaming 'Ol Whitey' for all black folks ills. In which case she's totally lost her credibility, and rightly so.
Later this morning we went for a walk, following a route given to us by the campsite. It was about two hundred yards down the narrow main road until we reached the bus stop and then off towards the coast over Fox Hill - for those of us who live on the edge of The Fens, a hill is a novelty and must be climbed. Then it was down a path to the beach passing a small light aircraft landing strip on the way. On the edge of the beach there were gun emplacements which presumably were part of the Muckleburgh Military Museum, if not, then maybe they're part of the new UK defences to protect our fishing waters after the Brexit transition period.
Down on the pebble and shingle beach there were numerous fisherman trying their luck with the local fish. I did try beach fishing many years ago, but never really got the point of it, just sat there watching the end of the rod twitching with the movement of the sea. Boring is the word I'm looking for.
We wandered further along the coastal path before calling it a day, as to continue further would have meant us walking along even more of the narrow A149 road to get back to the campsite. We joined the road at the junction on which the shop sat where I bought the Eccles cakes yesterday. I did think about sticking my head in and telling them about the one with the burnt bottom, but then decided not to bother as it probably wouldn't have been news to them. It was probably going to get fed to the dog when the shop shut but then a mug tourist came along and bought it.
We were out trudging away for about three hours, and that was enough really, given that we do very little of that sort of thing these days and are therefore not as fit as we were, or should be.
On our return I got the folding chairs out of the rear garage and we sat outside for a short while. The frustration has been that the weather kept changing from cloudy to occasional sunshine, and when the sun went back in again it was really quite cool.
I have been trudging over to the one fresh water tap on the field in order to top up the vehicles tank so that we can enjoy another lovely hot shower in the morning. Four trips with ten litres per trip, it's enough to do the job. I don't like carrying more water than I need to. Firstly it weighs one kilo per litre and secondly it can go stale if sat around in the tank long enough.
This evening's culinary delight from my darling Chef was a hot Cornish pasty, potatoes and vegetables. Not a Sunday roast exactly, but then I didn't bring the gas barbecue with us, so cooking chickens and joints would be problematic in our little electric oven and grill.
Tomorrow we're off on a bus three miles down the road to Sheringham. I've driven through it once or twice in the past but never been there. So fingers crossed.