It was our third or fourth trip to Norwich (the previous ones happened a decade ago: goodness gracious, I’ve been living in this country for nearly ten years, unbelievable), and every time we were blessed with glorious weather.
It’s incredible how my memory immediately evoked the path with willows starting from the railway station, the tiny bridge and, slightly further down, several old streets in the city with Tudor buildings (all are occupied, of course); one of them was closed for the Jubilee celebrations: a small crowd of middle aged folks enjoyed themselves near the pub, and joy was everywhere.
The cathedral looked as splendid as ever: a few people were inside, but most of them were walking around or idling on the wide galleries beaming with sun.
Is it a mistake to come back to places which make you happy, even for a short time? I don’t know: I just do it as if it were somehow necessary.
No comments :
Post a Comment