Norfolk is a long way away from anywhere, and if I were you, I shouldn't start from here. By the time you get to the outskirts of Cromer, any distinctions between science, beachcombing, social commentary, writing and animal husbandry have started to blur. When the process is complete, you know you've arrived at the End Of The Pier Show. So, welcome. Find somewhere to park your unicycle. Pull up a girrafe chair. Make yourself comfortable.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Bad Mobo Scooter

Cromer has a large population of elderly people, who enjoy whizzing around on their daleks mobility scooters as if they own the place. The other day I was walking along the pavement (that's 'sidewalk' for colonial readers), minding my own business, and a woman on her metallic red dalek-o-matic was whirring along behind me, ringing her bell loudly, rudely demanding that I should get out of the way. I think mobility scooters are dangerous - you might as well put pensioners on quad bikes and let them get on with it.

I have left instructions to Mrs Cromercrox that should I be in such a state that I require a mobility dalek, she is to let me buy one, point me to the end of Cromer Pier, glue my foot to the accelerator and let rip.


  1. Would that be going out like Bonnie and Clyde, or like Thelma and Louise?

  2. More like Butch and Sundance, or so I like to think.

  3. Sounds like the ending to a rather odd gothic novel I read last year. Although I imagine Mrs Cromercrox would frown at the violent sex and the mermaids.

  4. She hasn't read that particular novel. Chick lit is more her scene. I don't think she'd mind the mermaids though.