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Thinking to holiday in Norfolk last week, tried booking a hotel on the Ordance Survey Landranger sheet number 132 (possibly the best maps in the world. I have never found anything better for holidays). Having never thought that this was going to be a problem just before the main holiday season kicked in, we failed to find a hotel which could do the whole week. Most could do most of the week, with the difficulty being the middle of the week. To be absolutely fair, the Ramada at King's Lynn could have done our business, but BH was not impressed by the idea of staying at a hotel with an address on an industrial estate, despite the town being old and important enough to have deserved to appear in many episodes of 'Timewatch'.

Next stop was http://www.cottages4you.co.uk/, an outfit which we had not previously used, but from which a helpful operator found us an entirely suitable cottage in a place called Wighton. Quite a stroke of luck since we wanted to occupy the day after the day after we spoke to her. Another stroke of luck was that the inhabitants of Wighton seemed to be deep into flowers; to the point of our holiday cottage having a fine, flower filled garden. For example, the clematis illustrated.

At some point during the week we found out that the likely reason for hotel problems was the arrival of the olympic torch and its attendant caravan of people, vans, security men and women, minor celebrities and what have you in north west Norfolk. I was also very unimpressed to learn that that the torch was not actually being carried about, rather it was moved from town to town by motor vehicle and just carried through the actual towns by actual athletes. Has athletics so far declined that we cannot muster enough distance runners to carry the thing night and day through our green and pleasant land? Did the security men and women belong to a union which objected to their working in the dark out in the country where there might be funny noises? In any event, sufficiently unimpressed that we decided not to go to Fakenham to see the thing, choosing rather to spend the relevant day on the first of two visits to the Shrine of Our Lady at Walsingham. But we did get to see some inflatable souvenirs of the torch on the bus home.

We were also treated to an impromptu rant from a chap of about my age & inclinations at the vast waste of money involved in the whole olympic business. Most entertaining; perhaps we should have invited him and his wife to the pub to share the full story.

Back at the cottage, I was further unimpressed to read that we have been keeping Ian Brady alive by tube feeding for 10 years or more. Why on earth do we not let the chap starve himself to death? What decent purpose is served by keeping him alive? Where is the Christian charity (which we are supposed to be signed up for) in dragging out his life for him? I would go further and make sure that suitably lethal pills were made suitably available to people who commit unspeakable crimes. I dare say a good proportion would make use of them.

Back at the house, BH & FIL were both even more unimpressed to find that tennis had disturbed the second episode of  'The Hollow Crown' on BBC. To the point that they gave up and went to bed. They had both liked the much lauded first episode, while I did not like the ten minutes or so that I saw at all, for me a production which had been taken over by the costume and set designers. And I did not think that a king of some years standing would toy with his pet monkey while conducting state business of life and death.

Came across yet another example of Canadian generosity in the church at Wighton, with this tablet telling how an Ontarian on a family history holiday paid for the failing tower to be rebuilt, plus the acquisition of some new bells. The bill must have been considerable.

I suppose the reason that all this generosity seems to be Ontarian is mainly arithmetic, with Ontario accounting for more than half of the English speaking population. See http://www.statcan.gc.ca/start-debut-eng.html.

Interesting to see how they handle the provincial angle there: a lot more important than our statistical regions and a lot more numerous than our countries, particularly if one excludes such anomalies as the Channel Islands and the Isle of Man, which is usual, I think, in British statistical circles. Interesting to see how gross structural features of this sort drive the national statistical products: one size does not fit all - which must considerably complicate the job of the international collators in places like the UN and Eurostat. And probably makes for lots of errors in those natty cross country tabulations which the Economist is fond of.

PS: need to go to Google school. Five minutes failed to reveal to me who this Leeds Richardson is. Is he anything to do with the Leeds Richardson Construction Company? Is he anything to do with any of the various ancient Leeds Richardsons listed?

North Norfolk turned out to be rich in churches. A lot richer than one might think likely for a stretch of not very good farming land, but I will wonder about that another day.

Started off with Wighton Church, in the village where we were staying, a large place with a flint exterior, a small congregation, a tower, two aisles, a nave and a chancel, kept open more or less the whole time, this openness seemingly the product of the 'Open Churches' initiative of the Diocese of Norfolk. But not so quiet that it did not run to a couple of cheerful cleaners on the following Friday.

The north aisle was used to display some obsolete agricultural implements and the coffin carriage (if that is the right term) illustrated. The carriage seemed like a good idea: one could load the thing up at home, walk it to the church for the service and then on into the yard for the burial. No need for any other carriages, horseless or otherwise. Quite a lot of the churches we went to had them, although, sadly, none of them appeared to be in use. And they wouldn't really do in Epsom where the walking and pushing involved would be a bit much for us older participants. And more or less out of the question if one opted for a cremation - which would be miles and miles away.

The next visit was to the Shrine of Our Lady at Walsingham, a very important place in its day, started up by a Saxon noblewoman with a rather French sounding name (perhaps her married name) just before the Conquest, broken up by Henry VIII and with restoration starting towards the end of the 19th century. Oddly enough the biggest element of the shrine is (high) Anglican, with the Catholics holding the ground at the Slipper Chapel, the last of what used to be the way-stations on the way to the shrine proper. Anglican was sufficiently high to have relics, these including a piece of the True Cross, some relics derived from a martyrdom by barbecue and a replica of a nail from the True Cross. Now I can see how a relic might come to be important, but I have not yet been able to find out how a replica of a relic comes to be a relic itself. And at least two of the rugs in side chapels appeared to be of Muslim origin. All rather impressive none the less.

On an ecclesiastical par with Our Lady of Knock, said by John McGahern in one of his novels to function as a sort of matrimonial agency for those of middle age, although there was no sign of that sort of thing at Walsingham. Oddly, Walsingham is a much older shrine than Knock, despite the zeal of the Irish in the first millennium.

The Anglican bit of http://www.walsingham.org.uk/ seems to creak a bit but the Catholic part is up and running. On the ground we also have space for both the Greek and the Russian Orthodox.

A couple of days later, more or less by accident, to Binham Priory (http://www.binhampriory.org/), not that much older than that at Walsingham, but which turned out to be a very well presented bit of architectural and ecclesiastical heritage. The priory was all ruined apart from what had been the nave of the priory church and was now the parish church, rather nicely touched up with the help of Lottery money and such like. Touching up which stretched to a brand new DT.

Interested by the ruins of some large and fancy columns outside, columns which were faced with a thin layer of dressed stone but which were flint rubble inside. The things must have been made by building a shutter, as one would for concrete, setting the face stones, facing out, on the inside of the shutter and then filling the thing up with flint and mortar. Quite a palaver, particularly when you came to the arches which sat on the columns and which appeared to have been made in the same way.

To retain a sense of proportion, a quick look at the nearby Langham Church, distinguished by sloping columns to the south aisle. Like those of St David's in Pembrokeshire, in which last case I think the sloping was on purpose, something to do with balancing the forces of nature.

For variety, then spent some hours in Blakeney where we were interested to find an outside wall mounted combined thermometer and barometer, originally sold by Negretti & Zambra, once a name to be conjured with in the world of scientific instruments. This one was in a natty oak, glass fronted box maybe two feet high, six inches wide and four inches deep. The barometer's mercury tube looked to be about half an inch in diameter with a float carrying a vernier scale sitting on top of the mercury. Was I seeing straight? Maybe the answer is to be found at http://www.negrettiandzambra.co.uk/.

Onto to the very grand Blakeney Church out on the road to Wiveton (just to confuse). One large tower, one small tower, one chancel, one nave and two aisles. Lots of fancy woodwork including a hammer beam roof to the nave. Some interesting stained glass. A grade one listed building, one of the no less than 96 churches listed by English Heritage for North Norfolk. Maybe it is not such an accolade after all. Or maybe I have not quite got the hang of their web site.

Rounded off our little tour at the end of the week by going back to Walsingham, visiting the Catholic shrine then the Anglican. Tea and and toasted tea cake taken with the Catholics while we were waiting for two bus loads of pilgrims to clear the (new) church associated with the (old) slipper chapel. New church rather impressive. The cloister ran to a few martins, the first we have seen for a while.

Wound up the visit with BH buying me a third edition of a nice picture book about the Old Testament by one John Drane. Excellent souvenir.