The Strangers Club



The Strangers Club is a secretive pseudo-Masonic gentlemen’s club in Elm Hill. Anyone can become a member so long as they have an inflated sense of their own self-importance, and a penis.






Rosary Cemetery











Rosary Cemetery was the first non-denominational burial ground in the United Kingdom, and is the dead centre of Norwich. The oldest part of it dates from the mid-nineteenth century, and the most famous person buried there is Anna Sewell, the author of Black Beauty. I used to live just round the corner from the cemetery, and I would often waste an hour or two in there, lost in my thoughts. It’s a good place for clearing the mind.

It may be full of dead people, but it’s actually teeming with life. Crows and magpies perch in the trees, spying on me asĀ  I wander beneath them, and I catch a fleeting yellow flash of a woodpecker out of the corner of my eye, and a couple of grey squirrels rustling about in the undergrowth. In the meantime, insects, invertebrates and worms are feeding on the rotting vegetation and rotting human beings, and the cycle of life continues unbroken in the dappled sunlight of a warm September afternoon.





Norwich 10k run

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Every August, there’s a 10k run through the streets of Norwich, with thousands of people – runners, joggers, staggerers, the super fit and the extremely unfit – all pounding the course, ending up outside City Hall where they receive a medal for getting completely knackered.

Then everybody decamps to Chapelfield Gardens to get their breath back, and to vow never to do it again.

A couple of our friends ran it this year. They must be mad.





ABC Wharf

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There’s been a wharf here since at least the 13th century, and in the 15th century it was referred to as the Common Stathe, a storage space for goods that had been brought in by aliens – that is, people who were not freemen of the city. The main building here is a warehouse that is now The Waterfront nightclub and live music venue, which has dodgy sightlines, bad acoustics and long queues at the bar.




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We caught up with some friends on their allotment on the north side of the city. It was a very convivial afternoon, but it left me feeling a little jealous, as my wife and I once had one.I used to really enjoy having it, growing our own food from seed, dirt under the fingernails, communing with nature, all that sort of stuff. Then I got hit by a really bad thyroid condition, I lost loads of weight, had no stamina, and I ended up having to give it up.

The fruit and veg you get in the supermarkets just aren’t as good…