The Bandstand at Hunstanton
Our flight to Schiphol was uneventful, although we were glad we had the foresight to have lunch at Istanbul Ataturk Airport before we left. Lunch on the plane was in one of the dreaded boxes, now standard fare on short flights. The box contained an unappetising cold pasta salad and some cheese and biscuits; we couldn't face the pasta, but the cheese and biscuits were palatable.
We had dinner at Schiphol, which was fine, except for the fact that the only place people are allowed to smoke is in the restaurants and bars. Not only that but the best seats are reserved for the smokers while the non-smokers are confined to a pokey corner (in which the smoke from the smokers is trapped) or directly above the bar wreathed in clouds of smoke that waft gently upwards, engulfing the abstainers! Why would anyone with a smattering of intelligence imagine that a suitable place for smokers is where people are trying to eat their food!
Flew on into Norwich airport on Friday evening to be picked up by Clare and the lovely Jessica. We were so grateful to be flying into Norwich rather than Heathrow. Norwich is so much more civilised!
David and Clare dismantled her old garden shed on Saturday and heaved everything into a skip while Jessica and I watched and played ball games in the garden. It’s great being a geriatric old granny; you’re not expected to do anything too strenuous!
On Sunday, we all went to Hunstanton to hear the Breckland Brass Band, in which Clare plays EЬ horn. It was a great venue and the afternoon turned out fine, despite the threatening rain in the morning. The bandstand is on the green overlooking the sea and the setting was perfect for a relaxing afternoon. Unfortunately, I forgot to take my camera, so no pictures this time, except for one of the Bandstand! (Just in case you are wondering where John was all this time, he was in London on a pediatric first aid course.)
Today, Monday, the new shed arrived and is being mantled ready for the arrival of all our kutundu. We downsized dramatically before we left Turkey, but still managed to end up with 42 boxes – goodness knows how!
Perhaps the food there is so terrible that they hope the disgusting taste of second hand smoke and the inability to breathe mask the poor quality of their food! OR we could leave it at no smattering of intelligence!
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