Maps 143 & 144 – Two Cathedrals

This particular crossing of the country, as well as being quite long, is also unique in an OS map sense, because it fails to arrive at the east coast. I know – I think it’s weird, too; but there we are. If I carried on with my straight line eastwards I would end up in Lowestoft and, as you know, I have already been there.  So instead, things come to a rather abrupt halt at the western edge of OS map 144. This imaginary line is about 4 miles short of Norwich, so that made an obvious end point for today’s ride and a convenient place to stay overnight, especially since there was another train strike going on, the third already this month. I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to until the morning, so I didn’t try. I would catch a train – well, four to be exact, tomorrow.

My lovely wife would be flying off to America in a couple of days to see family and friends, so I would be very much left to my own devices in the coming days; but she decided she would like to ride one more day with me and that day was today. As it turned out it was a very good choice. We were treated to superb weather all day long, including the now traditional westerly breeze that made today’s ride of 63 or so miles feel almost easy. That was also down to the terrain, which was very near flat all day long. Nothing you would really call a hill at all until we reached Norwich itself, which manages not to be as flat as you might expect.

Our day began with a visit to Ely Cathedral, which is truly a wonder of rich Norman and mediaeval architecture. For such a small city, it is a huge building. It stands on land a little raised from the surrounding fens, so that its turreted, almost castle like, west tower, in particular, can be seen from quite a distance away. When it was built, in the days before water towers, power lines, wind generators and all of the other modern paraphernalia cluttering the horizon, it must have been unmistakably important. Inside the cathedral this morning we found a couple of live sheep, which we hadn’t expected, since they are usually out in fields. But these two seemed happy enough to be eating hay as part of a harvest festival event that was still a bit of a work in progress, with various stalls and displays at different stages of completion. The sheep may have taken the opportunity, if they had any sense, to admire the rich Norman stone arches and the high, painted ceilings of this magnificent building. Its piece de resistance, of course, is the unique lantern that sits above the central crossing point between the nave and the choir. It is 8 sided and lets in light high above the centre of the church. You can gaze up into it from below. It was added in the fourteenth century when the old central tower collapsed. This foresight gave Ely a wonder all of its own. Last night at dusk the lantern was flooded in bright light so that it shone over the small city like a crown.

Our ride began with a trip across the fens towards the Suffolk / Norfolk border country known as Breckland. To get there we cycled along straight, quiet roads and crossed no fewer than six level crossings. Ely is a major rail junction for East Anglia, and we crossed the line to Norwich three times alone. Entering Suffolk, things got better looking. The flat, ploughed fields gave way to slightly raised, sandy ground with more trees and grassy pastures. Flint is the common building material here and it began to feature in the walls and churches we passed. It gives this area a quite distinctive look that I haven’t noticed anywhere else so far. I rather like it.

After a lunch stop in the small town of Brandon, we entered Thetford Forest, a very large wooded area of south Norfolk. We cycled through quiet lanes of tall, deciduous trees which looked resplendent in the autumn sunshine, their colours just beginning to show. Also all around were signs telling you to keep away from the trees and open spaces, which are used for military exercises. This gentle landscape continued for miles, with the odd village or hamlet for variety. In one of the largest we found a community shop that doubled up as a timely cafe. A lady from much further north – probably Yorkshire – served us. She said that after many years in Norfolk, she still missed the hills. It is the big thing that puts me off the area as a place to live.

As a place to ride a bike, however, Norfolk has much to offer. We continued east along the tiniest of quiet lanes for many more sunny miles until we encountered old railway crossing gates that in turn revealed the Mid Norfolk Railway. Today was the last day of operation until the Polar Express comes out for Christmas! I chatted to a man who was renovating an old signal box next to the line. He spoke of a ten year plan that involved opening a new station here in Wymondham (pronounced Windham) and the use of all the tracks they own, and a little more, north to beyond the current extent of Dereham. It takes a huge amount of volunteer effort and expertise to operate, let alone expand, a working railway like this. Their target sounds aggressive to me, but I hope they achieve it.

Just around the corner was the reason for the present railway station: Wymondham Abbey. I have never seen another church quite like this. It has a tall, flint tower rising at the west end, and a hollow, almost ruined octagonal tower at the other end of its sizeable length. This latter tower was once a little like Ely’s lantern, high above the crossing point of a much larger cruciform church. The building as a whole was unusually shared between a monastery and the parish, each having its own tower. As a result, it was effectively half demolished in the reformation. What remains functions as a large parish church to this day. It is quite as lovely as it fascinating; but was also locked, to the frustration of groups of other visitors as well as ourselves.

A few miles later we were riding along cycle lanes through suburban streets and off OS map 144 into the centre of Norwich. We had a modern city centre apartment for the night, very close to the magnificent cathedral, which was gloriously floodlit as we ventured out of the peaceful streets of the cathedral close, through an ancient archway and into the busy Saturday night festivities to find our favourite Belgian pub for some seriously strong, dark beer. And thus a splendid day ended, for me at least, with a Kwak! In its own specially shaped glass, that is. And that was worth the ride all by itself. A year ago the two of us sat in the same pub drinking the same beer after another great night out. Perhaps we are forming a new tradition. If so, I am all for keeping it alive in October 2023. Cheers.