Thas A Fact?

Today was one of those perfect, largely unplanned days out that good memories in a lifetime are made of.

The weather was less-than-great (hail as we got in the car to set off, scattered showers throughout the day and a pretty much freezing wind in parts), but we hadn’t gone far from the house all weekend so come what may, for better for worse, we were ‘heading out’ today.

First plan had always been to visit the craft fair/May Day shenanigans at Bircham Windmill in North-West Norfolk. Small animals, tea-rooms, craft stalls, possible maypole dancing. Sounded like a country fete dream come true. Very wholesome. So, off we went. It was about 9.30am.

Now, call me dumb but I’ve never actually made the connection that windmills will be situated in reliably windy places. Its not that I don’t know this, I guess I’ve just never really thought about it before. Doh. Rocking up then to gale force winds (but, hey, the sails were turning – impressed Little Man) was slightly off-putting, but we were (on the whole – save for a pair of very ill-advised three-quarter length trews – me) dressed warmly, so arctic winds would be no barrier to our fun today.

To summarise our Windmill visit – nice coffee & cake in the tea rooms, Little Man saw bantams, a chicken sitting on a ducks eggs in a guinea pig pen, rabbits, some recently born lambs, a horse and played on various play equipment. Some crazily-shaggy goats (we think they were goats) tried to eat OH, much to Little Man’s squealing delight. We wanted to get some of the delicious-looking cakes from the on-site bakery, but the queue was huge so we decided to get while the going was good and seek out somewhere slightly less exposed for our picnic.

New born lambs at Bircham Windmill.

Driving up the road to Snettisham Park Farm, we aborted the exercise before even crossing the threshold as the heavens opened. OH suggested we traverse the county and try to ride the North Norfolk Railway in Sheringham. Too tired to protest or think of a better suggestion, the plan was cemented.

En-route we stopped at Holkham Hall to change Little Man (we’ve used the boot of the car before, but its not really preferable). We saw lots of Holkham deer, had to drag LM kicking and screaming (basically) away from the tractor/bygone exhibit and ended up eating our picnic in the car (owing to weather conditions) in the grounds of the hall. There are worse views to accompany a packed lunch.

Onwards to Sheringham via just about every mid-Norfolk village, byway and B-road (OH blamed the navigator, but actually it was quite pleasant – always nice to revisit some our Norfolk’s truly lovely little villages). At one point we ended up in front of somebody’s house having mistaken their (seriously ostentatious) private drive for a road. The getting lost-ness and the rubbish weather were ample fodder for jokes and mockery and all three of us laughed. A lot.

We arrived in Sheringham just as a train was leaving the historic station – no matter, another was due to leave in just under an hour. That gave us a bit of time to collect some drinks and snacks from Sheringham’s Sainsbury’s local (which was not very useful – hardly anything in it) for the hour-ish long journey (essential when travelling in a confined space with a toddler).

We were very lucky with the train and got a compartment all to ourselves. The journey via Weybourne afforded some wonderful views of the countryside (one side) and out towards the coast (other side). Brief stops at Weybourne and Holt station afforded OH and LM the opportunity to get off the train and watch the locomotive happenings as the engine transferred from the front to the back for the return journey. (Note – it is categorically not a train until the ‘engine’ has connected to the ‘set’ [of carriages] – pointed out to OH by a conductor who corrected him after hearing him explaining to LM).

View of the Coast from the North Norfolk Railway.

We arrived back at Sheringham at about 4.30pm and after very, very nearly opting for fish’n'chips, we decided that we could make it home in time for dinner and so called it a day.

Back home, Little Man could not stop talking about the ‘goats that tried to eat daddy’ or the ‘men on the train’ (the conductors). At his bedtime, we read the Thomas the Tank book we’d bought from the station souvenir shop.

These are politically charged and economically fearful times. Everything has to be bigger, faster, brighter and prefixed with an ‘i-’. Times, which, for us, also mean trying to balance running a small business in a tough climate with bringing up a happy child, oftentimes with far too little sleep. Despite this, days out like this still exist here in Norfolk to warm the soul and lift the spirits, long after the last laugh has died away. Simple days, not linked to conspicuous consumerism, perfectly imperfect and retro in their simplicity. 8 hours together as a family, 125 miles of driving, one windmill, one stately home, one car-picnic, one steam-train ride and a total spend excluding petrol costs: £30. Memories made and family bonding increased (to borrow from a well-known advertising campaign): priceless.

Tickets for the North Norfolk Railway.