Let's go east

We abandon Santiago in the west, at a marina on the Bridgewater Canal. The marina conveniently has a pub adjacent, a welcome spot from which to call a cab, and have a cold beer while waiting. The amazing postcode system in the UK means one pub may have its own code. Brilliant for sat nav dependent folk.

The cab takes us back to the Macc, where nb Santiago is normally moored, and where we had left the hire car. Our perigrinations in the past 3 weeks leave me confused.

So back we drive, to the boat, to sleep one last night before it is hauled out of the water for its bottom blacking and propeller straightening. Hence we are gypsies, and book a cabin in Norfolk for a 5 day sojourn on the high open landscape. We load the car with a ridiculous pile of stuff...non perishable food for our break, clothes, towels, maps, doona, even a cupboard door from the boat needing repair.  Perishable foods to our cousin's home, with poor JJ having to dump his icecream stash. His last spoonfuls,  at 10am! Practically breakfast.

Thence a journey south of Birmingham, to our dear cousins, always a delight, conversations interrupted by 3 years recommence. We walk the narrow lanes, drizzle, a pint in one of the locals. Wander their beautiful home and garden, relax in the security and love of family.

From there we head east, 4 plus hours, to the opposite  side of the country, a coffee break at Kings Lynn, on the banks of the Great Ouse, innundated by high tides so sliding barriers across gateways.

Shall we cook dinner in our cabin on the coast? Or dine at the Ship's Inn, on the cliffs nearby? No prizes  for guessing the pub won.

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