Our accommodation |
Early morning with the River Bure at the bottom of our garden |
The day boat |
Commander Ted aged 3 at the helm!!! |
A trip to the beach at Sea Palling |
Cruising down the river at Belaugh. |
A 'Windboat' from the golden age of motor cruisers crossing Barton Broad |
A trip by rail to Aylsham |
Quanting a traditional yacht from Hunter's Yard at Ludham |
How did the Devil come? When first attack?
These Norfolk lanes recall lost innocence,
The years fall off and find me walking back
Dragging a stick along the wooden fence
Down this same path, where, forty years ago,
My father strolled behind me, calm and slow.
I used to fill my hand with sorrel seeds
And shower him with them from the tops of stiles,
I used to butt my head into his tweeds
To make him hurry down those languerous miles
Of ash and alder-shaded lanes, till here
Our moorings and the masthead would appear.
There after supper lit by lantern light
Warm in the cabin I could lie secure
And hear against the polished sides at night
The lap lap lapping of the weedy Bure,
A whispering and watery Norfolk sound
Telling of all the moonlight reeds around.
How did the devil come? When first attack?
The church is just the same, though now I know
Fowler of Louth restored it. Time, bring back
The rapturous ignorance of long ago,
The peace, before the dreadful daylight starts,
Of unkept promises and broken hearts.
JOHN BETJEMAN
Sunset on the Bure |