A WHISTLE-STOP TOUR OF MODERN NORWICH

Having spent the best part of my life living in & around the fine city of Norwich, on Saturday I decided to take a whistle-stop tour of the old girl, in the old girl, whilst the old girl played ponies back at the homestead.

I chose my moment carefully.

The snow that had ground Norwich to a complete skid-pan had thawed, and the Canaries were playing host to the only non-league side left in the FA Cup competition. Knowing that the agitprop poet Helen Ivory was away from the country, thoughts of any disturbance were quelled, and I aimed to hit the 'Big Sugarbeet' around 2pm, just as the hordes of Luton Town fans goose-stepped their way from their collection of illegally-parked delivery vans.
To be fair to the miscreants, the queues for the John Lewis, Castle Mall and Chapelfield car-parks were so long, the visiting supporters must've thought they were in Lakeside Thurrock;
and no doubt many of them took full advantage of the post-Xmas post-NewYear sales-lull SALES- events that were happening in every cloned outlet, from Monsoon to Oasis; from Matalan to TK Maxx. Post-Snowmageddon panic-buying had evolved into a slightly uglier style of consumerism.

As I dawdled in first gear for what seemed like an hour (but was in fact an hour & a half), I began to mentally note all the changes that had occurred in the city of my alma mater.

Ber St, once notorious for it's post-pub activity, had risen from the ashes of a car-dealer nightmare, and was now akin to a micro China Town, bustling with tea-houses, Asian grocers and martial arts centres.
The gaps that were once empty shops, were now filled with tanning lounges, hairdressers, nail polishers and more tanning lounges.
But the queue for the John Lewis car-park was as long as ever.
4x4's and Lexi belching their way to a safe spot underneath their retail nirvana, holding the duality of traffic-flow to ransom, with width and power and ignorance.
Yet the Anglia Square car park still had 480 spaces, and was only a short walk from anywhere.

I was happy to find that the City Gates pub had been put to sleep.
Students at UEA were often told that Norwich had "a church for every week of the year, and a pub for every day". During my time at the University of Exaggerated Abbreviations I found this not to be true.
But what I did discover was that the city had more Wetherspoon's per capita than any other town in the UK.
The fact that the former JDW City Gates' building had been re-invented as an all-you-can-eat Chinese buffet, ladled irony onto my sticky rice in heaps.

As I passed the monolithic building that once housed 'the old model shop', I couldn't help thinking that a lot of this change was probably for the best.
The queue for bespoke coffee and naff Neff, smug Smeg and Moben design, was populated by men who shouldn't be wearing skinny-fit jeans, and their girlfriends who shouldn't encourage them.
But there was a middle class defiance in their queueing, that said more about Norwich than the gas-guzzling numpties that stalked Ber St.
If it really is the 'economy stupid', then we probably need these affluent foot-soldiers and their disposable income now, more than ever.

As I went around the confusing Anglia Square one-way system, I noticed that in amongst all the building-sites and new development, the independent shoe shop in Edward St.was still open, defiantly opposing so-called progress, with less than three pairs of shoes in its window, and one of them a pair of classic cherry red DMs.
The smile and the warmth this gave me were only lost when I turned onto St.Augustine's St. and was confronted by a huge billboard advertising "PMT - Let's Rock!"

I sincerely hope PMT is an acronym for something far removed from its common acronym usage.
But then, Norwich folk are a funny old bunch.

**I would really like to know the name of the shop in Edward St. if anyone has it? I know there was a similar shoe-shop in St.Augustine's called 'Yallops'. Not sure if it's still there.

A NAKED LUCY WORSLEY

No greeting cards or service-station flowers
No candlelight or making love for hours
No forced gestures or pink confectionery
Just some tissues, closed curtains
And a naked Lucy Worsley.

Campaign Update (Merry Costa)

To be fair to Beccles Tesco (and I'm not fair that often), taking delivery of Xmas stock in Autumn, and placing it directly onto the shelves, that are taking brief respite from barbecue charcoals and citronella tea-lights, is a space & labour-saving device, that the public, rightly or wrongly, see as a piece of cynical capitalism.

Costa Coffee however, do not have this excuse.

Whereas Tesco is still punting pumpkins and fireworks, with not a Xmas decoration in sight, Costa Coffee has festooned it's windows with the most garish, unattractive, badly fonted posters, wishing everyone who can read, a 'Merry Costa'.

What does it even mean?!

A Merry fuckin' Costa?
It's not even a crappy seasonal period!
It's a brand name.
For a coffee-shop.
When did buying an overpriced cup of java ever have anything to do with Xmas?

What next, a Merry Costa and a Happy New Starbucks?
Ding dong merrily on high, in Devon the tills are ringing?
Costa time, mistletoe & caffeine, children singing Christian rapping?
(I'm angry and I didn't really give these my best shot - your suggestions please?)

And why now?
It's November 2nd ffs!

No.
We've managed to get rid of Julian Assange, Focus DIY and Woolies.
We've stalled Wetherspoons.
It's time to rid our town of this obnoxious chain of space-hogging, money-grabbing, sanitised nonsense, and embrace the twelve or so independent coffee shops that we already have.

If you want a skinny latte' ask Elsie for less milk.
If you want a cappucino ask Doris for a sprinkle of cocoa.
If you want the world to disappear up its own arse, ask Santa for a Merry Costa.
(You never know, you might get it in a proper cup)

Campaign Update (Assange's Birthday Party & Asbestosis)

So the reason we can't have a Wetherspoons is because of too much asbestos.
When did product quality or customer care become part of Tim Martin's remit?
Now we've got an empty pub, slap-bang in the centre of town, that no-one wants, and may be a danger to public health.

The King's Head stood there for nearly 400years without any problems.
JD Wetherspoon came along, and fucked Beccles into a hole.

The checkout manager at Tesco is a rude cow.
Yesterday she closed two tills, as I was obviously approaching them, without a word of apology or consideration.
If it wasn't for their Value cider, I'd boycott them.

Julian Assange was 40 on July 3rd. We invited him to our Birthday Cricket game on the common, but he declined to attend, favouring a party with Vivienne Westwood and the girl who plays the lead in Australia's 'Rocky Horror Picture Show'.
I'm not sure if they slept over, or if Jules drank so much, he lost his moral-compass, but he did end up nicking some of our cricket attendees.
I just wish he would get over the whole 'Ricky Ponting' thing.

Campaign Update (Matches on the Common)

The recent spell of dry & windy weather has left Beccles Common parched, but it would appear that it has nothing to do with God, Julian Assange or Wetherspoons.

Many years ago, some 'bright spark' decided to plant the far-from-native poplar tree on the common, with the intention of selling the wood to the lucrative matchstick industry.
Then along came '5 for a Pound' lighters, Gary's Discounts, Julian Assange and Greggs, and hey presto! We didn't really need to have done that after all.

It's estimated a poplar tree can take up to 50 GALLONS of water, every day!

I say "chop down the trees!" and encourage something more indigenous, and in line with the common's best interest.
And we must do this before Wetherspoons or Greggs espy the vacant space, or before Assange introduces cane-toads.

Campaign Update (Beccles & Bungay)

In the week we appear to have lost Julian Assange for good, along with Bungay Library, the second of our three independent book-shops has announced that it is closing down.

Greggs will now open on Sundays, so lunchtimes will be much nicer, way up until the new Wetherspoon's gets going.

The dry-cleaners (Beccles' only dry-cleaners) has now become a high-street name bookies, and our lido appears now to have corporate sponsorship from British Gas.

The proposed re-opening for the Slug & Pellet (Suffolk's Smallest Cider-Shed) has been put back to May 2011, due to refurbishment problems, and rats.

Campaign Update

The gollywog shop has closed down. Tesco are expanding. Gary's Discounts has reduced it's wall of wool. The builders started work on Wetherspoon's yesterday. Beccles Kebab & Pizza has a new menu.

Campaign Update (Au revoir Assange)

Now that we have managed to extradite Julian Assange to that London for a few days, local retailers are looking forward to returning to normal.

Half-day closing will resume on Wednesday, and several of us can go back to trolley-shopping, in the knowledge that we won't have to run a gauntlet of European & US journalists, on our way back home.

Take your time Julian.

Aussie! Aussie! Aussie!

My campaign to stop Wetherspoon's opening in Beccles, has gone from strength-to-strength this month. All four town-centre pubs have signed-up anonymously, and a man who lives in Chipping Ongar, but regularly visits Beccles Cemetery, also expressed 'serious dissatisfaction'. Our queueing campaign "Get A Grip Greggs", to alleviate bread & cake queue-jumping, in order to secure warm lunchtime snacks, took a knock back this week. A spokesperson for Greggs called Janice said "We can't be responsible for customer disputes at busy lunchtime periods. We hent social-workers". We are still waiting on a reply from Beccles Outdoor Lido with respect to the ice-rink idea. New Look & QD are still refusing to shut half-day on Wednesdays. Keep fighting the fight.......