Yesterday evening I asked a friend of mine why her brother had moved to New York—her reply: “Because he was bored of Norwich.”
When a man is tired of Norwich, he is tired of life.
19May05 — 5
- 04.05.23 Ten-year quest through Development Hell pays off
- 04.04.23 Testing "podcasting"
- 04.03.23 Mistakes Have Been Made
- 04.02.23 Coming soon
- 11.02.19 Live comedy review: Geoff Norcott at the Southport Comedy Festival
- 08.20.19 Republic Interiors
- 12.27.18 The Wykehamist Fallacy
- 12.08.18 The Moral Degradation of The Labour Party
- 10.14.18 FILM REVIEW: Downsizing
- 09.09.18 Film Review: Fright Night
Once, gazing absently into the window of a shoe shop in Norwich, I was accosted by a local:
Local: “Nice shoes”
Me: “Yes”
Local: “Expensive, though. Not for the likes of you”
Me: !!
(thinks: But I could buy them if I wanted to. I live in LONDON.)
I’ve not been back since.
Ah but does NY proffer anything so fine as Norfolk County pistacchio ice cream? And Norwich has a specialist Jazz CD shop. Quite close to heaven, then.
And didn’t Stephen Fry, who is certainly rich enough to live in London or New York, choose to live in Norwich?
(I have no opinion on the place one way or another, as I haven’t set foot in Norfolk since I was about two)
Well, they have been relegated from the Premiership. People have leaped off bridges for less.
Now then, Damian. This sounds distinctly EastAnglist. As if Norwich were boring! It’s the New York of Norfolk!