Thursday, 22 September 2016

Our Norfolk Break - Part 1 - The Accommodation

Last weekend our friends M&A tied the knot in Norfolk.  We had been so looking forward to it for absolutely ages.  As the time started to draw closer, we all bought our new outfits, had haircuts, made sure the car was in good shape to make the journey there and back.  I'd had little hints of how the day was going to be, but the reality of the day just blew everything out of the water.  The best wedding both Mr G and I have ever been to, hands down.  First, the accommodation, because once again, I'd played a blinder and picked somewhere that just made us go 'Wow'.

This was NOT taken when we arrived...

The Coach House in Yaxham.  2.3 miles away from where the wedding reception was taking place, so we knew that we could get there and back without having to sell a kidney or remortgage a child or something.  The journey down was faultless up to Nottinghamshire... and once we'd made it to Grantham, plain sailing to Kings Lynn and down to Yaxham.  But... Nottinghamshire.  Remember the mucky overnighter at The Hand Hotel (if you don't, you can refresh your memory by clicking here).  Where the route was closed due to snow?  And regardless the sat nav was insistent on putting us back on that route and we ended up going round in a big loop for ages?  And knocked every turn out by at least 20 - 30 yards?  Yeah, that.  Because although the route may have been correct in 2011/2012, when we first had the sat nav and unfortunately back then they came with one free map update and we are too cheap to pay for more... come 2016, the route absolutely was not correct any longer.  The weather was lovely as far as Stoke on Trent, and then it started spitting, and the closer we drew to Norfolk, the harder the rain was coming down.  Mr G was terrified driving in it.  

We turned into a narrow lane and drove past a lovely church and up the drive marked Yaxham House.  Past a huge house, which the owners lived in, followed the drive further and there it was, set back in a massive courtyard of its own, The Coach House.  Despite only being about 2.30 pm it was almost dark outside, and you could see the inside lit up ready for us, several lamps glowing, it looked so cosy and inviting but we were trapped in the car for the foreseeable.  Mr G saw the owner coming out of the Coach House and he ran through the torrential rain to get the keys from her.  He had the tour as we sheltered in the car.  Getting our stuff in was fun and games, sheltering under massive umbrellas and passing bags along a human chain.

Once we were all in and stood dripping, Mr G told us that the owner Sue had left us (me... hehe) a bottle of wine, which was chilling in the fridge, a pint of milk, a pack of lovely cookies, and six eggs laid by her hens, which have the run of her large gardens.  We quickly unpacked everything, had a coffee, and then went off to search for something for our tea.

Boys room

Cait's room

Our bedroom

Kitchen with everything you could think of provided




Settled down for a cosy evening, rugby and a couple of beers!

We went to locate the station to check that we'd got the right place, bumped into my friend while there, which was a nice surprise, wasn't expecting to see her then, and then went to book a taxi, get fish and chips for us all, and retired for the evening.   Curtains drawn, heating on, wine in glass, rugby on the iPad.  Spot on.

Part two - the Wedding, coming very soon!  Including the conversation that shall now and forever be known as 'BeaverGate'.  This is something that could only happen to us.  We must give off a signal that only lunatics can pick up on.  Or the old sayings 'birds of a feather'.  'Like attracts like'.  Or something. 

M x

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