Hello Ducky

The last public holiday before Christmas brought the crowds to the banks of the Wensum to cheer on the Grand Norwich Duck Race. It was a bit of a plucky ducky frolic for charity and, as far as we could make out, it’s a friendly rival to the much grander Great Norwich Duck Race held in July. A £2 raffle ticket bought us a bright plastic contender and the chance to pick up a prize. The Sheriff of Norwich loudly heralded the release of the ducks which were chomping at the bit behind a mini-boom. I thought sheriffs were employed to chase outlaws around the Wild West and Sherwood Forest, but I digress. The gentle Wensum would hardly qualify as a white water ride so most of the rubber ducks floated lamely downstream while others became trapped in the dripping summer foliage. Neither Daffy, Donald or Daisy nor Huey, Dewey or Louis seemed much bothered by all the fuss as they huddled together for comfort. The daft occasion was fun for all the family and totally quackers. Later the same evening Liam gazed out of the window and, quite by chance, spotted three dragged-up men hobbling down the street in high heels, shock frocks and wild wigs. This is Norwich, city of the tacky, wacky and the wonderful.

The images were taken with my new smart-arse smart phone so they’re not very good (more of the smarty pants later), but you’ll get the drift.

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17 thoughts on “Hello Ducky

    1. No tights for our butch old sheriff, not even a bit of bling round his neck – just a little heavy braid to show everyone who’s boss in this neck of the woods.


  1. Like it. Reminds me of going to the quaint and delightful village of Lower Slaughter in the Cotswolds a number of year ago. Arrived on the very day of the annual fete the highlight of which was the yacht race. Bear in mind the village is deep inland and the only water is a tiny stream no more than 3m wide and about 20cm deep and you get the drift. British eccentrics at their best. Norwich sounds great for retaining such madness in a modern city.


    1. Oops, forgot to reply. Very rude of me! I know Kingston well. Old Father Thames flows a little faster. Our duck race was more of a stroll down a lazy country lane rather than a sprint along a watery motorway. 🙂


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