GREAT YARMOUTH

After a hectic few days in London, we picked up a rental car and headed to Great Yarmouth on the east coast of England to visit my cousin. Our major task (other than taking a spot of R & R after New York and London) was to buy a car, which was to see us on our trip around England and then to take us to Germany.

My criteria for the car was that it had to be fuel-efficient (the cost of petrol in both England and continental Europe does not bear thinking about), so a 4-cylinder was in order, and it had to be practical, enough room for the four of us, plus our luggage, so a hatchback was the preferred option. Karen's criteria was somewhat different "It has to be red. I like red".

"Yes, my sweet rose, but what about the practicalities?"

"Well.....yes.....but it must be red"

We looked around a few car yards, and discovered an oh-so-bloody-English establishment with the wonderful name of "Binks of Beccles" (Beccles being a small town not far from Gt Yarmouth). The salesman, Deane Binks, who was also the owner, was as far removed from a car dealer as anyone could ever imagine. Wearing a pin-stripe suit, and referring to us continually as "Sir" and "Madam" (which was interesting as my knighthood is not due until the New Year), he bore more resemblance in his manner to a very polite bank manager of 20 years ago.

"We have to buy a car off him" said Karen, "He's just so nice and well-mannered" (an addition to her criteria I hadn't foreseen).

Fortunately Mr Binks of Beccles happened to have a car which met everybody's criteria. Unfortunately it was a Renault. Wrestling with years of mocking French cars (well, everything French actually), and with the image of my father looking down at me frowning (It's ok Dad, they don't make Austins any more), I succumbed to the pressure and purchased the said vehicle.

But it's all ok. "It's got nice wheels" said the love of my life, as if that was the crowning glory.

Comfortable with the fact that it was unlikely that I would bump into any old school or work colleagues from the past, I donned my best balaclava and drove the car home.

Anyway, on to Gt Yarmouth, and for all those knockers who reckon the sun doesn't shine in England, we scored summer on the day out we had at the seaside.

Yes, the umbrella is for shade from the sun. Karen was concerned she might get skin cancer from the scorching rays. Here are the girls at the Britannia Pier.

A view from the pier showing the Gt Yarmouth beach. And YES, that is real sand

Chloe and Chanelle at the pier

A pub in Gt Yarmouth (or "Yarmuff" as the locals pronounce it).

I just liked the name of it, so we had to sample their brew

Chloe choses her bucket and spade for the beach

A little bit of self-indulgence here

Back on the pier, we had to play one of those silly amusement

machines where you roll your money in and hope that it

pushes a heap more money and prizes out

And WE WON!!!! Yes, after only about a pound, we won this little teddy bear

keyring which must have been worth........well.........at least 10 pence!

......and we were on a roll, about another 50 pence and Karen won a lolly worth

at least 2 pence. Never had any luck with these machines before.

We decided to leave at this point, before they kicked us out

The next day we went with my cousin to Lowestoft, another seaside town

just down the road from Yarmuff. Unfortunately, summer was over

Well, Chanelle seemed to be enjoying herself

Even got a smile out of Chloe, although she couldn't use her bucket and spade

The girls did have fun with a little rubber boucing ball,

until it bounced too far and they lost it

Before leaving Yarmuff, we did buy one of those roof box things for the car to store some of the luggage. I'll post a pic at a later date.

So after about five days in Yarmuff we set forth for Yorkshire.