My passage took me through the Anglia Square part of the city which is generally thought to be an eyesore, but really isn't that bad and just looks like an outdated shopping centre.
Before Anglia Square I passed the swimming pool. Just one thing wrong with that sentence. There is no swimming pool there. St Augustine's swimming pool is long gone but many older Norwich residents will know exactly where I'm talking about.
Many years ago I had a new boss at work. He needed to go to Magpie Road in Norwich but didn't know how to get there.
I directed him as best I could and ended with the words "When you get to the swimming pool just turn left and you will be there."
He phoned up:
"I can't find the swimming pool," he said.
"Oh no it's no longer there. It's a row of shops," I replied.
Which just shows how things change but somehow stay the same.
So with a casual glance over to where the swimming pool once was I stepped into the next part of my three mile walk.
On the right was a private house that I remember as a cafe. On the road on which I lived (Reepham Road in Hellesdon) there was a casual friend who I believe was a couple of years older and a couple of years more worldy-wise than me. He lived across the road and a few houses down. One day we were on our own in his house when he asked me if I wanted to try a glass of whiskey. I have no idea how old I would have been. So he poured out a reasonably generous amount and topped up the bottle with some water in an effort to cover up what we had done.
I drank the whiskey and hated it. I have hated whiskey ever since but that's because I just don't like the taste rather than any bad memory from that day.
The mother of this guy ran the cafe I have already mentioned. I seem to think that on a number of occasions her son had been round ours for lunch/dinner. On this occasion we went to the cafe. They probably didn't want to leave him at home where he was likely to introduce his friends to alcohol.
I remember lunch was horrible. I think it was some kind of stew made with minced beef. It must have been horrible for me to remember it 60 years later. Not only was it horrible but she charged me the going rate for eating it. My mother was aghast when I told her. Luckily I had some money on me.
The other memory I have of this stretch of road involved a hardware shop which I passed when I was working. I may well have been on my way to Magpie Road! There were flames leaping from the building. I believe it was gutted by fire. Today it's a music instrument shop.
Writing this brings back horrible memories of that swimming pool. The smell of chlorine, the slippery changing room floors, the fact you put your clothes in wire baskets. I hated all this, but perhaps it was more the fact that I hated swimming. It's still something I do out of sufferance and, of course, something I will return to in a future blog.