Read my Lichfield Travel logue here

The fourteenth city on my list to visit is the East Anglian city of Norwich, 109 miles from London. Norwich has a simple etymology. The “nor” means northern and “wic” means settlement, so it effectively means Northern Settlement. The North was added to differentiate it from its Southern counterpart ‘Ipswich.’ Norwich also has a rich history. The Iceni tribe led by warrior queen Boudica orginally lived here, before being conquered by the Romans. After the Romans, there was an Anglo-Saxon and then a Norman presence. It became a century in 1194 when King Richard I granted it a royal charter.

My journey started in Liverpool Street where I caught the 10.30 Greater Anglia train to Norwich. I have to admit that I’ve never heard Norwich spoken about in a positive light – more that it’s flat with nothing to do there. Will that be the case with me? Only way one to tell.

The journey was uneventful with the ticket inspector checking my ticket without asking to see my railcard, which seems to be the norm now. But I’m still not brave enough to risk it otherwise. Anyway, I arrived in Norwich at 12.21. And unlike certain stations *cough cough* Gloucester, it wasn’t covered in construction works, so that was a good first impression.

My second impression wasn’t great though as Norwich, similarly to Gloucester, seemed to be half-dead. As I crossed the River Wensum and headed into the city, I saw that most of the eating establishments were closed. Good thing I had no intention of eating lunch straightaway.

We all know by now that I don’t eat anything until I’ve visited the city’s cathedral. To the cathedral. Except I couldn’t find it at first. Also, whoever said that Norwich was flat? I was going up and down hills to find this over-sized church.

As I headed further inland, the city seemed to come life. Yes, the castle was closed for refurbishment, the museum was also closed, and it was rainy, but the city centre was certainly busy enough.

But I still couldn’t find the bloody cathedral. I went through the high street past your usual Greggs, Savers and closed-down Wilkinsons through shopping centres and even into the Chapelfield Gardens.

You might ask why I didn’t check the route beforehand or just use my GPS? Well, dear reader, that would suggest that I put any forward planning into these trips. I do not. I just wander around and hope for the best. And the best happened. I found the cathedral or at least what I thought was the cathedral (more on this later.) Either way, it was a massive church. You think you would have been able to spot it a mile away.

I headed inside. It was certainly a spectacular cathedral although I was less impressed with the anti-euthanasia exhibition. Call me a bleeding-heart liberal, but I believe in euthanasia. What do you think?

What surprised me about this cathedral was that unlike others *cough cough* Gloucester, it wasn’t set up in such a way that you are guilted into donating to its upkeep. In fact, the cathedral was dead. There were no staff or stewards to be seen. You appeared to have free reign of the church.

It was half one at this point, so I had a little nosey around the gift shop and church cafe. I was tempted by the £8.50 luxury cream team, but I stayed strong. For the record, if you’re a tourist coming to London, don’t be tempted by one of those fancy £50 cream teas you get in the big hotels. They’re a complete scam. I was also surprised to learn the cathedral was really young only opening its doors in the 20th century.

But now it was lunchtime. I decided to follow signs to a nearby market while looking round some art galleries and second-hand bookshops. Then I found the market at 2pm.

I hadn’t eaten in almost six hours, so I was hungry, but I was overwhelmed by the selection on offer. You had dhosa, dahl, katsu, empanadas, fish and chips, hog roast sandwiches, jerk chicken and burgers. Despite being starving, I just couldn’t pick, so I assigned a number to each, put it in a random number generation and I let the food gods decide. And they picked a 1/2 pounder for £5.60

It wasn’t the best burger ever, but it certainly filled a hole and at £5.60 I wasn’t complaining. It was half the price of that fancy salmon sandwich I had in Hereford. By now it was half two and I was running out of things to do. I had come on a Monday which is when most things seemed to be closed.

There was another church near the market, but this was definitely set up to guilt you into donating, so I steered well clear and went into a TV and film shop that would have been heaven for any member of a fandom. I don’t particularly subscribe to fandoms, but this shop catered for whovians, Thronians, Potterheads, comic-book fans and animites. There were some really cute Studio Ghibli t-shirts (although not cute enough for me to spend £17 on them.)

After I looked around another second-hand bookshop and resisted buying fudge in a sweet shop, I ended up in another church. This was far smaller than the cathedral, but no less impressive. This is how I know I’m getting older; when I was a kid, I hated when my parents dragged me around old churches. Now I love it. I might be just a heretic who believes in abortion, euthanasia and gay marriage, but I do enjoy the quietness of a church. This Baptist church was no exception.

And where did I end up after this? Another church of course. But this church was like no other. it had been converted into an antique store. It was wild. You could buy records, old currency, jewellery, knives, old guns, taxidermied animals (yuck) and even a replica human skull. Bonkers. But definitely a highlight of the trip.

You know how earlier I said that I had visited what I thought was Norwich Cathedral? Turns out that I had made the biggest mistake since Napoleon invaded Russia during the winter. Instead of going to Norwich Cathedral, I visited St. John the Baptist cathedral. They are not the same thing. You know how I know? At four o’clock, I found the real cathedral. It was appropriately sign-posted. It was also in the centre of town and not out there in the sticks.

And it was totally set up to guilt you into donating, but I managed to sneak through with this big family. In the giftshop, I found these cute bookmarks for my girlfriend and I.

Onto the cathedral itself. It was impressive with all the majesty you would expect. I still can’t believe how badly Chelmsford was short-changed with its cathedral, but at least it had one, unlike Colchester.

By now it was 4.30 and it was getting dark. I headed down to the station to get my Toogoodtogo bag from the AMT coffee shop. And for my dinner that evening, I had two cheese and ham croissants and a mushroom and truffle panini. All for £3.19 instead of £13.

It was time to end my day with a little walk along the River Wensum although I initially went the wrong way and had to double back. But I also went to a fried chicken shop to buy a little snack to tide me over until I returned home.

And my snack? Two pieces of chicken that scalded the hell out of my mouth. But at least I wasn’t hungry, right? Right?? RIGHT??? Anyway, onto my walk, along the river Wensum, this time heading the opposite direction. Now I’m sure in the summer, it would have been lovely, but on a rainy, dark October evening it wasn’t the best.

Plus, I couldn’t go too far as I needed to catch my train home at 18.00. On a different day, I might have walked further but I headed back at 17.15 to begin my long journey home.

I only half agree with Norwich’s reputation. I definitely could have used more to do – next time I won’t come on a Monday where half the city is closed, but it certainly isn’t a flat place. There are hills galore. Oxford. You’re next.