At the tail end of summer, we took an afternoon excursion to Wroxham, gateway to the Norfolk Broads. We expected pretty and quaint with teahouses, old pubs and happy holiday-makers splashing about in boats. We were disappointed. Anything worth preserving got bull-dozed in the Seventies. The small town is entirely dominated by someone called Roy – Roy’s Supermarket, Roy’s Pharmacy, Roy’s Toys, Roy’s Garden Centre (and, no doubt, Roy’s Baby Care and Roy’s Undertakers – a company town from cradle to the grave). Even Ronald McDonald, that global corporate clown, has thrown in the towel by flogging his sweaty burgers and thin chips inside one of Roy’s gaffs. It’s probably a franchise. Far be it for me to criticise anyone who provides local employment but what’s the special deal if Roy kicks the bargain bucket?
Jack Scott
Imagine the absurdity of two openly gay, married, middle aged, middle class men escaping the liberal sanctuary of anonymous London to relocate to a Muslim country. I chronicled our exploits with the mad, the bad, the sad and the glad in a blog for the whole world to ignore. Then came the book which became a critically acclaimed best seller. Its success opened out a whole new career for me, firstly as an author, and now as a publisher. Who'd have thought it? Certainly not me.
In June 2012, we ended our Anatolian affair and paddled back to Britain on the evening tide, washing up in Norwich, a surprising city in eastern England, then to the wilds of Norfolk as the only gays in the village. I’m sometimes nostalgic for our encounters with the hopeless, the hapless and, yes, the happy go lucky. They gave me an unexpected tale to tell and for this I thank them.
Perking the Pansies 
Hi Jack whats the surprise God knows what those English do for their their kicks ! boredom comes in all sorts of discusses.
LikeLike
Certainly does 🙂
LikeLike
Those bargain buckets have already been kicked! The Roy’s brothers were local Norfolk retail royalty, and the empire is currently being run by the third generation of Roy’s brothers.
As someone who had to endure more than her fair share of Broads Holidays, part of the perk of picking our boat up at Wroxham, was the obligatory trip around Roys to buy our “all-aboard” essentials – where I squandered my pocket money at the bargain bin.
Wroxham has changed over the years, and has definitely lost its village charm … but there are plenty more rural villages nearby to fill up your quaint-quota … with ne’ar a Roy in sight.
LikeLike
Thanks for the potted history from my favourite Norfolk broad 😉
LikeLike
All the conglomerates and big cheesy money = big box stores (over here) are mucking up the view everywhere. 😦
LikeLike
Roy is a small cheese in a big way! 🙂
LikeLike
You mean not a conglomerate but might as well be in Roy’s ‘town’. 😉
LikeLike
That’s it.
LikeLike
😉
LikeLike
. . a company funeral and an hour off for the staff to mourn!
LikeLike
Docked from their pay, no doubt.
LikeLike
. . by-the-by, think you must have turned left instead of right – that place is in Hertfordshire!
LikeLike
Sounds a pleasant enough place (according to Wikipedia).
LikeLike