Friday 28th October 2022

Last day in the fine City, and somewhat surprisingly, I slept in until ten past eight. I mean, that's very nearly dinner time when at home.

So, just enough time for a shower and check on the interwebs before going down to breakfast, where I order a "full English", as I would be drinking pretty soon after.

Well, before noon anyway.

Breakfast was good, but the coffee better.

So, off into the city, and a wander back through Tombland, and my intention had been to wander round the market, but I saw a queue had already formed for the beer festival, it would mean 70 minutes standing, but I had nowhere else to go.

The Norwich beer festival takes place in the St Andrews and Blackfriars Halls, and it is popular. Entry is via a porch, and those with tickets, members and general admissions are all mixed in. And as the festival nears its end, gets ever more popular, so there is a queue.

A large queue.

I talk to a couple of chaps beside me, and the time goes quickly, and by the time the doors do open at half eleven, the end of the queue is back over the river and out of sight.

I go in, get a glass and beer tokens, and find a place to sit.

I was here because there was to be a RAF reunion, of those who served in my trade, at RAF Coltishall. I served there five years, surely I would loads of old friends and comrades?

As time went on, I found the group, but no one looked familiar.

I spoke to one guy, I said might remember me, but that was it.

As time went on I got more and more despondent. The beer helped.

Three pints of porter, and that was enough, at two I left and weaved my way back along the cobbled streets to the hotel, stopping off for crisps and pop at a store on the way, and going back to my room to write a blog post and listen to the radio.

The afternoon faded into evening, I did the music quiz, came 8th.

And then went out to take some final night time shots of the city and find a place to eat.

But my back was grumbling, and I made it to City Hall, snapped it and St Peter Mancroft before turning back.

I tried a few places to see if they had a table, none did.

So, the final chance was the hotel, where at seven fifteen I was the first customer in the large restaurant.

An Indian couple who had married that day came in and sat nearby, and he told her he had written a song about her, how he changed the words, then he sang to her.

I had a burger and a pint, which was all I fancied.

Then back up to my room for some arsing about before bed at ten.