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It is Saturday 29th April. The football season for the Marske United Canine Crew and her driver is in theory over. However, I find myself up early and on the road again. The role aa a full time Entertainment Officer to a Norfolk Terrier never ends. Progress is slow. Painfully slow, in fact. We are heading east into Fenlands. In Fenlands, you don't rush. You can't rush actually - the roads simply don't allow it. We have had more than our fair share of driving across the flatlands all over the world. Arizona. New Mexico. Western Australia probably takes the biscuit. Ever tried Newman to Meekatharra? Peterborough's a mere 20 miles from March, but it feels like a lifetime. Patience is required. We pull into town and park up near the football club. We will come back to March later.
The trip to March was a mere sideshow to the real event of the weekend. Brancaster Beach was hosting a group Norfolk & Norwich Terrier walk. A long way to go to take the dog for a walk, I mused. The Other Half was insistent. It would be good for Vera yo meet up with her kin. We were up
bright and early the next morning and heading for the coast. It was Bank Holiday weekend, so the roads would likely be busy and Norfolk isn't blessed with many high speed pie es of tarmac. We made steady progress from our base at Great Massingham, although the white deer of Houghton' Hall were elusive, as we passed. We parked up on plan in Brancaster village. It hadn't been as busy as I had anticipated and there was still space in a legitimate parking spot on the main road. It was so quiet that a Muntjac deer was still enjoying breakfast in the churchyard. Unfazed by passing traffic and the prospect of a church service, he continued to dine. As a total coincidence, I spotted someone I used to work with across the street. They were staying with friends in the village for the weekend. This quiet village was bizarrely considered as a site for the British space programme in the 1950s, before somebody close to central Government woke up and smelled the coffee. We set off to walk to the beach, some 15 - 20 minutes away.
The beach at Brancaster is a wide expanse of golden sand, flanked
by dunes under the care of the National Trust. I saw no sign of the shipwreck of the SS Vina, which was used as target practice by the RAF in the run up to the Normandy landings in 1944. The shifting sands must have all but obliterated any traces. The Royal West Norfolk Golf Club sits amongst them just back from the beach. It is they who control the car park and the fees for parking in it, much to the chagrin of National Trust members. Founded in 1892, the club regularly makes the cut as being in the top 100 golf courses in Britain. However, it comes with the distinction of part of the Links being cut off at higher tides ... check your tide tables before considering booking your round! The group walk attracted a total of 37 dogs - a mix of Norfolks and Norwichs. Vera seemed enthusiastic at first, but was probably overwhelmed by the sheer numbers and the boisterous nature of some of the male dogs. They majority of the group roamed merrily off lead, although one individual made a solo mission off up the beach and had to be retrieved before he came to
mischief. Norfolks by nature are quite bold and inquisitive and stubborn, if the mood takes them. A successful walk over - Vera had behaved herself and walked impeccably off lead - we made our way back to Great Massingham.
Great Massingham is a picture postcard Norfolk village. A village green, the obligatory duck pond, it has enough facilities to make life liveable and importantly a dog friendly pub. The Dabbling Duck is proper dog friendly and not one of these places that says all the right things and then bars the four legged friends from half the building. Vera was welcome in the room, at breakfast and for the evening meal in either restaurant or bar. If press reports are to be believed, top businessmen and whisper it ... even Royalty .... have been seen dining. Fortunately, Royal prices are not applicable and it is within reach of the average man. Whether the aforementioned brought their dogs, wasn't mentioned.
March in Cambridgeshire got a mention in the Doomsday Book, was a minor port in the days of Elizabeth I and hit the big time with the coming of the railways. It was on a junction of the Great
Northern Railway and Great Eastern Railway. During the 1920s and 1930s, the marshalling yards at Whitemoor became the largest in Great Britain and the second largest in all of Europe. Who knew that or would even guess that a provincial market town in the Fenlands was at the forefront of rail? The largest incidentally if you are curious are just south of Hamburg, Germany. There is very little left now and much of the site was built over to become a prison in the 1990s.
We walked into town passing the old Hippodrome cinema. It is another classic rescue by the Spoons pub group. Go inside and look what a splendid job they have done. I would have taken a snap to demonstrate, but felt the gaze of many eyes upon me as I pondered. It seems most people in March know everyone. We headed further into the centre. The very ornate Coronation Memorial Fountain will catch your eye, as you head to the crossing of the old River Nene. The fountain was erected by public subscriptions in 1912 to commemorate the Coronation of King George V the previous year. It had a refurb in 2011 and was looking
splendid in the spring sunshine. We went for a walk down the course of the river. Canal boats are moored up against the properties that back on to river. Signs warned against the feeding of the geese, who seemed very much at home in town. It was a very peaceful setting, apart from maybe outside the Ship Inn, where people were enjoying their refreshments outside. The Saturday market was in situ in front of the Town Hall. The Town Hall looked disproportionate for the needs of the town, although I read town was the centre of administration for the Isle of Ely until 1974.
It was time for some football. March Town United had finished their season, but the Reserves were in action against visitors from Over Sports. It turned out Over is a suburb of Cambridge. The attraction was the game being played at the GER (Great Eastern Railway) Sports Ground on the splendidly named, Robingoodfellows Lane. The impact of the railways on the town can be seen here. The ground is a sizeable facility. A mix between old and new. A spacious new clubhouse flanks a beautiful old grandstand. The grandstand is peculiarly positioned for football -
set back from the pitchside, but it becomes obvious once you discover the GER Sports Ground was home to greyhound racing between 1931 and 1984. The start / finish for the dogs is still to one side - the greyhound has long since grassed over. The view from the Stand in modern terms is best described as "not optimal", but served as useful shade for Vera on what became a very warm afternoon. March Town United are known logically as the " Hares". As the temperatures rose, they were far from fast out the traps this afternoon. The nearest to a goal in the first 45 minutes was a rather unconvincing dive in an attempt to win a penalty. UEFA would have had it as a definite yellow card for unsportsmanlike behaviour. Fortunately for them, neither were Over Sports. The match livened up in the 2nd half, as both teams began to feel the heat. It finished 4-1 to the home side.
We made our way home via the small, but interesting, Castle Acre.
Appendix 1 Cambridge County Football League March Town United FC 4 Over Sports FC 1 Venue: GER Sports Ground, Robingoodfellows Lane,
March. Cambridgeshire. PE15 8HS
Date: Saturday 29th April 2023 @ 1500 Hours
Attendance: Est 75
Scorers: Cogman-Wright, Rogers (2) & Young (March Town United FC Reserves) - MacCallum (Over Sports)
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Rainyb
Lorraine Brecht
Very interesting!