I have friends who live close to Wisbech, so last year after I’d been visiting, I left to go to Great Yarmouth as I’d never been before.
Now you can joke all you wish, ‘3’s a crowd in Great Yar’, ‘Costa Del Wind’, ‘You’re only allowed in with a hankie on your head’, ‘assuming of course it’s open’ … so what? You know what? I had a great time in Great Yarmouth and I would go back again. The beaches are superb. I’ve rarely seen better except perhaps in Northumberland. The town is no more tacky than any other British sea-side town, in fact it’s very nice. They have a little train going up and down the prom and horse drawn carriages too. You can say what you like I think Great Yarmouth is excellent.
Most evenings after work I’d get the bike down, rush the 2 miles or so along the prom and back, then grab the dog and we’d go for a wander down the beach and see what sticks we could find. The weather was pleasant, but me and Jack don’t mind if it’s not bright sunshine we have a great time anyway. There’s some excellent tacky shops in town and I had great fun rooting through them. I will definitely return.
Whilst I was there a caravan pulled up and a young woman came out of it. Each morning she would disappear up the road with her brolly and bags, laden with God knows what and going who knows where. The caravan would rock and bounce at times, as though a mass orgy was going on in there, but in fact there was only ever her there. Sometimes I’d see her return in the evening in her Range Rover with shopping and bottles of water. Most times I was walking the dog on the beach so never saw her at all.
One day, the police came knocking. Apparently where we were parked was directly over a main gas pipe which was checked regularly. They had seen the caravan there for a while and after looking in saw wires everywhere, connected to batteries and bottles of clear liquid! “We don’t want a panic.” said the young constable, “But it does appear something is unusual.”
I tactfully told him of the young woman returning with her bottles of drinking water and asked about the wires. I suggested maybe they were attached to a leisure battery to power her lights? He was having none of my theory though and within a few minutes there were 4 marked police cars and 2 unmarked cars, with burly officers walking around the caravan banging on the sides and shouting for her to come out. If they had already looked in the windows they would have seen what I already knew, she was out.
Anyway they acted quite tough and dramatic for a short while then the devil took hold of me. I went out and asked if there was going to be a massive explosion, and should I move a few hundred yards away just in case? They assured me it would probably all be fine, so I asked if they could then keep the noise down as they were scaring my puppy. They weren’t amused.
So I left them to it but, they bored quickly despite this being the most exciting thing that had happened all spring and bit by bit they siphoned off until there was only one car left. There they are on the left, sitting in the silver Ford. They sat there for some time before I went out again and told them she rarely comes back before 7pm.
Their glares at me suggested they were tough and mean so again, I left them to it in case they had to step out of their vehicle and talk in deep voices to me haha.
I promise you the flying ducks, a la Hilda Ogden’s front room wall, are genuine and took off just as I snapped the picture. They are not as has been suggested, either the Flying Squad, Constable Quick and Quack nor are they carrying miniature cameras to spy on the caravan from the air. Believe it or not they’re just ducks.