A Place Called Fakenham

Today's training run was a little 80 miler through the countryside of Norfolk. I was going to a 100 but I was lonely out on the ride so cut it short at 80miles. When you have been cycling for nearly 5 hours by yourself you do tend to get a little doolally. My ride was basically a figure of 8 loop out to Fakenham and of course I managed to kiss the coast road and stop at the Ship Inn in Brancaster. No duck egg omelette this week but i managed a couple of beers and a packet of crisps. There were horsey people everywhere due to some trials going on. I did observe that they expect you to give them total clearance when passing them but when they pass you in their Chelsea Tractors pulling their smelly trailers they are not so generous in the road space they give you.