Day 21: the elusive Boudicca

Many thanks to my friends who emailed to let us know about the leadership spill that ultimately wasn't.  No danger of hearing about this stuff here unless Julia Gillard had been deposed, so we appreciated the heads-up and immediately checked the SMH website for the latest.  Must say I was greatly relieved that Rudd would not play Crean's silly game and Crean  is now left eating a big fat shite sandwich.  But it is simply incredible that with the economy going like the clappers, a triple A credit rating, low interest rates and relatively low unemployment, there are government MPs intent on destroying the party.  Wish they would just piss off and take that know-it-all boy union hack, Paul Howes (instrumental in destroying Rudd in the first place) with them.  They could start their own new party and spend their every waking hour plotting against each other, feeding negative stories to the media and organising spills.  After all, it's what they do best.

Taking a chill pill and moving on, the three bunnies that live in the grass adjacent to the motorway (and just outside our window!) were out in their gingham sun-bonnets early this morning so we knew a fine day was in store.  That was good, because we were intent on driving to the outskirts of Norwich and doing a 'park and ride' - getting the bus into the city from an outlying parking lot.  All went well, but it took rather longer than we had estimated - a tad over two hours for us to get to our destination, Norwich Castle, and its Boudicca Gallery.

 

Norwich is quite an attractive city and even its outskirts were very 'refeened' with large mansions and lots of trees on either side of the main road in to the city.  Of course, if we'd come in on the other side of town, we may have encountered a rugged and grimy industrial estate like those oop north.  The pic above is the remnants of the city gates, build in the 1200s.  As in other cities, the city gates seem to be incorporated into the current landscape and the two blokes in fluoro vests were watering the nearby petunias.  We continue to be enchanted by city gates and the fact that every old city has remnants of them - some better preserved than others.     

This pic on the left was taken inside Norwich Castle, built during the Norman period.  Frankly we were a little disappointed in the museum, which is inside the castle.  It was naive of me to think the Boudicca gallery would actually have any artifacts or information of substance relating to Boudicca.  There were a few gold torcs and bibs and bobs from the period (1st century AD) but the Boudicca gallery was mostly fanciful re-creations, and descriptions of her long red hair and 'piercing, defiant eyes' - it seemed to us they were describing that disgraced News Corp hack, Rebekah Brooks, rather than an ancient Briton warrior queen.

 

Our other museum disappointment was two-pronged: first, we hadn't realised that the museum would be so kiddie-focused, so there were hordes and hordes of noisy brats in school uniforms (average age about 7) upsetting our equilibrium. Second, there was a rocking chariot with reins, with a video of galloping horses in front of it, so you could pretend you were racing along in a chariot.  Geoff and I really wanted to have a go on it but all these ankle-biters were hogging it. 

 

We were watching them for a few minutes and Geoff said to me: "How about I push  these little bastards off so we can have a go?"   I giggled, and was about to agree wholeheartedly, when one of the teachers turned to us and said "The chariot is only for children, I'm afraid."   Oh, the embarrassment!    

 

All up, we thought our trip to the Norwich Boudicca gallery was not really worth the four hour drive involved.  If we'd had more time we'd have gone to Flag Fen to see Iron Age digs and replica round houses.  Ah well.  Next trip then!      

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This arvo, we were back to the ancestors.  First stop was Ickleton, birthplace of my great great grandmother, Susan Newling born in about 1842.  It's still a small, sleepy village and I'd hazard a guess that the surrounding countryside still looks much as it did then.  This is the local C of E church.

It's enormous, given how small the village is!  I'm pretty sure this is would have been the family's local church.  It's hard to find a monument other than a church to give a connection to an ancient rello, so do forgive my obsession with them!

I took a pic of the Ickleton war memorial because several of the surnames on it appear in Susan Newling's family tree (and yours, cousin Bob.) Carder, Hopwood and Turner.
How fascinating!   














And then it was on to Little Shelford, birthplace of Geoffy's great great great grandfather, Emanuel Thomson.  Emanuel emigrated as an adult, with a reference from the Vicar of Great Shelford.  This is the C of E church in Great Shelford, so we assume Emanuel hung out here.  Great Shelford was quite a large and prosperous town and Little Shelford was still the poor relation - small and quiet.

Littel Shelford and Ickleton were only a few miles apart, so in pre-history Susan's and Emanuel's ancestors may have clubbed each other in battle or exchanged deer antlers in payment for clay pots or bone fish hooks.  Or possibly phone credit.








Tomorrow: back to London for a fond farewell....