To Swaffham

Breakfast was in solitary splendour.

Reading the paper, it was clear, Lebanon aside, that this was the silly season, including a piece on space tourism that had to explain what was going on with the Japanese guy wanting to cosplay as Char Aznable (“Japan's equivalent of Darth Vader” :lol:).

Traffic problems on the A14 meant the bike didn't arrive until nearly 10, and by the time I'd finished getting the saddle adjusted (a larger frame that I'm used to), it was 10:30 and hot.

I took the long route to Grimes Graves, and took the descent to the excavated shaft

The flint face at Grimes Graves

I was warned that there were adders in the area, but saw nothing except other visitors. The shaft was cool and damp, and climbing up went through a steamy layer before getting out into the slightly drier heat outside.

From there I do a bit of dead-reckoning past the Lynford Arboretum to cut off the right turn at the busy roundabout, and then past the Iceni Brewery (not stopping) — and as it's gone 14:00 when I next pass a pub, it's too late for lunch, even if I were hungry. As I'm carrying plenty to drink, I continue to amble.

By this time it's seriously hot, so it's easier to push when there's any sort of uphill.

The George Hotel in Swaffham is easy to find, and the a la carte menu is tempting enough to make dinner easy. I replenish supplies and get a light lunch from the Co-op, then have devilled kidneys followed by scampi in white wine sauce for lunch. The cellarage is not coping with the heat, so after a disappointing pint I have wine with the main.

There is a fan in the room. Collapse in the heat, sleeping on the bed again.