In Unfamiliar England: A Record of a Seven Thousand Mile Tour by Motor of the Unfrequented Nooks and Corners, and the Shrines of Especial Interest, in England; With Incursions into Scotland and Ireland.Murphy, Thos. D. (Thomas Dowler)
History
In Unfamiliar England: A Record of a Seven Thousand Mile Tour by Motor of the Unfrequented Nooks and Corners, and the Shrines of Especial Interest, in England; With Incursions into Scotland and Ireland.
Murphy, Thos. D. (Thomas Dowler)
Great Britain -- Description and travel
Historic ruins, as a rule, are now carefully maintained in England
and often made a feature of parks and pleasure grounds. But there
are exceptions, where the onslaughts of decay are not withstood and
where, unhindered, green ruin creeps steadily on. Such we found Caister
Castle, four miles to the north of Yarmouth. We were attracted by
its imposing appearance at some distance from the main road, and the
byway into which we turned led into an ill-kept farmyard. Here stands
the impressive ruin, with the stagnant waters of its old-time moat
still surrounding the towering keep and shattered walls. It was quite
deserted, apparently serving the neighboring farmer as a hen-roost.
We learned little of its history, but the mystery, due to our very
ignorance, together with the sad abandon of Caister Castle, makes it
appeal to our imagination more strongly than many a well-cared-for ruin
whose story has become commonplace.
A broad, level road leads to Norwich and we ran through the flat fen
country, dotted here and there with the Norfolk Broads. These pretty
inland lakes lay dull and motionless under a leaden sky, but we could
imagine them very picturesque on bright days, rippling in the sun and
gleaming with white sails. The hour was late, but our flight was a
rapid one, soon bringing us to the East Anglian metropolis, where we
forthwith sought the Maid's Head Hotel.
On the following morning we set out to explore the northern coast of
Norfolk and our route led us through many byways and over much bad
road. The day was clear and cool and the fine level country was in the
full glory of June verdure. Everything seemed to indicate that the
East Anglian farmer is contented and prosperous in the small way that
prosperity comes to the common people of England. The countryside had
a well-groomed appearance and the houses were better than the average.
We proceeded almost due north to Mundesley, a mean, bleak little coast
town with a single crooked street, its straggling cottages contrasting
sharply with the palatial hotel in the midst of lawns and gardens on
the hill overlooking the sea.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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