Norwich
is a city that languishes at the very heart of East Anglia situated on the
river Wensum. The name itself is derived from the Medieval French word “Noserre-itch” (n: nasal grate) no doubt
inspired by a rare kind of aquatic fungus which was prevalent in the area from
about 864 to 1341 AD. This unfortunate malady caused an acute form of nostril
rot which resulted in the unmanageable sniffing and insufferable twang that
came to define the region’s dialect. Even the Pope (Gregory X) appalled by the
incessant droning of the inhabitants, felt he had no choice but to
excommunicate the whole city. Legend has it that Queen Mary on a visit to the
area (enjoying a brief respite from toasting Protestants no doubt) was so
appalled by incessant twangle of the voices, that she filled her court with
Madagascan whooping monkeys to help render her environment more agreeable.
The Romans had previously booted and
thrust their way through East Anglia, establishing the settlement of Venta Icenorum (which simply means “frosted
orifice”) not far from the current situation Norwich now enjoys. In fact many
of the place names throughout Norfolk were in fact coined as the Romans marched
through the area. There villages and towns were christened after months of sandal-rubbing traipses as the legions marched from the coast to the in-land areas. In fact much of
Norfolk bears the titles of various maladies that afflicted the soldiers as
they marched. For example Attleborough is derived
from the Latin Ataanus Boosafus (n: musty
fundament), Cromer, Cronomous (adj: throbbing
knee), Lowestoft, Lowes-Pedditus (n:
stubbed toe) and Gorleston, Gorluss-Spirimus
(adj: sweaty gusset). And the less said about Beccles the better.
The Normans took control of the area
after the invasion of 1066 bringing with them a wealth of ideas to superimpose
themselves upon local area and populace.
This included the construction of a castle which was erected to provide
an ideal vantage point from which they could gaze over the Wash, no doubt in anticipation
of the great turkey influx. The turkey of course replaced the French* in Norfolk
whose strange gobblings and warblings were unfathomable to the indigenous
population. However the turkeys proved equally as befuddling but at least they
didn’t reek of garlic and eat malodorous cheese. These “bootiful” buxom, American birds not only helped get Norfolk on the telly but also provided a thriving industry and gave the denizens of Norwich
something to stuff of an evening. Nevertheless despite the incessant gobbling and
strutting of meleagris gallopavo, the
Normans still managed to erect the wonderfully Gothic cathedral which serves as
an emblem of the once dominant power in the region (pre-turkey of course).
The city has seen many strange comings
and goings over the last five hundred or so years, including the Belgian
Walloon communities who brought with them the waffle and the Norwich Canary. The aforementioned bird however was considered far too colourful and ornate for the then puritans. The result was many were ensnared, accused of being papist spies, and publically barbecued by the then Protestant
weavers. However, canaries generally chirped beautifully and eventually adorned the
parlours of many a household where they were quite literally required to sing for
their supper rather than contribute to it. Subsequently, the canary population
thrived until drastic bombing during the Second World War saw a serious decline
in the little yellow songster’s fortunes. Many returned to the Aegean Islands where they were customarily skewered and kebabbed
by the indigenous population and sold to British tourists as feathery trinkets.
Norwich is undoubtedly a beautiful city
and is a must visit if one is traveling across East Anglia. It is full of
yarns and anecdotal splendour. In fact the region actually takes its full name
from the mythological giant Orientalus Anglos,
who delighted
in dipping his toes into the Wash in the hope of a nibble or two. However,
legend has it that he keeled over and drowned leaving only his posterior
sticking out of the water which subsequently became known as the Magnus Gigas Cimex or Great Yarmouth as it is known in English.
The region and indeed Norwich itself is undoubtedly
appealing. And being somewhat geographically remote, boasts numerous religious
retreats and monasteries which provide well-needed respite from all those Madagascan
whoopers. Thoroughly enjoyed my visit...
*An unusual race of people that inhabit a large-ish land
mass just off the coast of the UK. They eat snails as well...
You paint an attractive picture of Nasal Grate, an area well worth a visit. However, I must add that the football team sports the worst, migraine-inducing strip I have ever had the misfortune to clap me old eyes on.
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