Banged Up at the Bridewell

The various galleries of the Museum of Norwich at the Bridewell chart the city’s journey from its humble beginnings as a few muddy huts by a river bank to a UNESCO World City of Literature. As I wrote when we first visited in 2017…

“It’s a ripping yarn of churches and chapels, friaries and priories, martyrs and merchants, weavers and cobblers, chocolatiers and mustard makers, fire and flood, black death and blitzkrieg.”

The Museum is a splendid way to spend an afternoon, come rain or shine. But it wasn’t the exhibits we came to see on our most recent visit, but a guided tour of the Undercroft, the vaulted cellar beneath the Museum. Norwich is stuffed with medieval undercrofts – they often escaped fire and the wrecking ball. Whereas the current Museum is mostly 18th-century Georgian, the Undercroft itself – the largest in Norwich – dates from the 14th Century.

The Bridewell Undercroft was originally used to store and display the precious wares of the filthy-rich merchants who lived in the fancy mansion above. It was a dry and secure place to show off the goodies to potential buyers and keep out thieves. But ironically, after the monied merchants moved out, the building became a ‘bridewell’ – a ‘house of correction’ – where those who had fallen on the hardest of times would find themselves incarcerated – the ‘criminalisation’ of the poor, as our guide put it.

Our guide certainly knew her stuff, bringing the story to life with gossipy titbits from the past blended with the serious stuff as she walked us through the suite of underground rooms. The tour provides a fascinating insight into not just the building but also the ebb and flow of the city’s fortunes. The Undercroft was even used as a bomb shelter during World War II.

From a strong room to a prison cell, a place of punishment to a place of safety, the Bridewell Undercroft tells it all. And yes, I bought a fridge magnet.

Top of the Pansy Pops 2017

Top of the Pansy Pops 2017

Perking the Pansies has recently passed its seventh birthday. It’s quite a milestone, I think. Most personal blogs are lucky to make it beyond the terrible twos. I still write it because I still enjoy it and I’m chuffed that enough punters still pop by to catch up on my news and views, rants and rambles. You make a fading fairy very happy. As it’s the turn of the year, it’s top ten time once again. So, ladies and gents, and those who are both, neither or someone in between…

The glitter ball goes to (drum roll please):

Sticky Fingers and Sticky Knickers

And the runner up is:

Tits with Chicks

The top two promised smut but delivered something altogether more innocent. I do hope visitors weren’t too let down, but this does demonstrate the value of a good headline, the ruder the better or so it seems. The also rans are an eclectic pick ‘n’ mix of danger and disability, dotage and death, beards and biography, civic history and doing the right thing.

The Story of Norwich | John Hurt, RIP | Life After My Saucepans | Praying for Time | A Message from My Husband | That Sinking Feeling | Seven Signs of Ageing | I Beg Your Pardon

In these social media-obsessed times, the most shared post was Home Sweet Home, an image-rich homily to little ol’ Norwich, published while Liam and I were away livin’ the vida loca, Greek-style.

Morris Dancing

And the most popular single image in 2017 (ever, in fact)?

Do we ever learn?

And the most popular old post in 2017?

Gran Canaria, Sex Emporium

Apparently not! 😀

Happy New Year to one and all.

The Story of Norwich – Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor, Rich Man, Poor Man, Bomber Man, Thief

The Story of Norwich – Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor, Rich Man, Poor Man, Bomber Man, Thief

Our flat is like a weather chamber. When Mother Nature decides to throw a wobbly, we hear every eruption. So last month when Storm Doris (Doris?) huffed and puffed with 90 mph winds, we feared she’d blow the house down. We decided to abandon the microloft and seek refuge elsewhere. Usually this would be the pub but on this occasion we choose the Bridewell Museum. The Bridewell charts the civic and social history of Norwich – from its modest beginnings as a few Anglo-Saxon huts on the muddy banks of the river to the pillaging Vikings, conquering Normans, religious glory days of spires and steeples, economic salvation by Flemish refugees, a spectacular rise to become England’s second city, a slow industrial decline and the city’s renaissance as a financial centre, cultural hub and UNESCO City of Literature. It’s a ripping yarn of churches and chapels, friaries and priories, martyrs and merchants, weavers and cobblers, chocolatiers and mustard makers, fire and flood, black death and blitzkrieg. Norwich was the first British city to build social houses and the first to have them flattened by the Luftwaffe – two of the many things catching my attention as we meandered through the exhibits. And what fun we had dressing up.

If you’d like to know more, check out Norwich Museum at the Bridewell.

Afterwards we did make it to a local hostelry for a few jars. Well who am I to argue with the lady?

wincarnis-wine-tonic

And so we survived Doris’ rage in one piece. Which is more than I can say for the roof.