Pleasantly surprised by Norwich
Malcolm Rogers travels to East Anglia and the ancient city of Norwich.
 By Malcolm
Rogers
No portrait survives, very few personal details either. He would be entirely
forgotten, a name somewhere in a parish register collecting dust, were
it not for one thing — each time you enter a church in the fenlands
of East Anglia, each time you look at the huge clear glass windows in
chunky Saxon churches on the flat plains of Norfolk, or marvel at their
plain white walls, he is at your side.
Over 350 years ago his trade flourished — literally, iconoclasm.
William Dowsing, the very epitome of a jobsworth, was paid 6s 8d for smashing
up churches to further the puritan cause.
Dowsing was employed by the Earl of Manchester, the Parliamentary Commander,
to smash windows, break statues, and destroy ‘superstitious’
paintings. These would be adjudged in contravention of the Fourth Commandment
— you’ll remember it: the one about bowing down in front of
graven images.
The Smasher, as he was known, would have visited Norwich cathedral, but
fortunately no trace of his work remains. The glorious interior remains
as the Benedictines first envisaged it: resplendent in its spirituality
and grandeur. But then the cathedral has been going about its business
for the thick end of a thousand years; Dowsing’s masters were a
mere blip on the screen.
In the chapel, mass has been said every single day for the last 910 years.
With that sort of spiritual sustenance behind you, most things can be
withstood — whether it’s a bloke whose tools were just a hammer
and a bucket of whitewash, or whether it’s a World War. Norwich
Cathedral and its huge spire have seen the lot.
Truly divine
When I got an invitation to join a press trip to Norwich I realised that
the place was unknown territory to me. The USA, France, Spain and Scandinavia
were all more familiar than East Anglia, so without further ado (actually
with a little bit of ado, but barely worth mentioning) I headed for Dublin
and a direct flight to East Anglia.
And here I was now — awestruck in the nave of the Cathedral Church
of the Holy Undivided Trinity, as this Norman architectural enterprise
is called.
It’s a dramatically elegant, impressive place, which has retained
its ecclesiastical air. I was recently in Carcassonne Cathedral, the former
headquarters of the Cathars in the south of France. Sadly, the church
today has transmogrified into a religious theme park, devoted largely
to tourists. Outside, the streets are filled with vendors equally zealous
in their pursuit of separating visitors from their money. Truly there
is more holiness in any square centimetre of Norwich Cathedral than there
is in the whole of Carcassonne, sacred though it may be.
From God to Mammon, and we must make our way through the cathedral grounds
where, incidentally, stands a statue in memory of our fellow countryman,
the Duke of Wellington.
Grander than any I can think of in his home town of Dublin, the statue
stands near local lad Horatio Nelson. Meanwhile at the south gate of the
cathedral a poignant headstone reads: “To the pure and holy memory
of Edith Cavell, who gave her life for England”. During the First
World War the nurse helped Allied soldiers escape from occupied Belgium.
For her trouble, she was shot at dawn in Brussels on October 12, 1915
by the Germans.
Norwich Cathedral stands in a wondrous muddle of old medieval streets
that comprises the historic heart of the city. The whole thing looks as
if it’s tumbled out of a Hans Christian Andersen fairytale. You’ll
eventually pass through the Ethelbert Gateway which bears the legend “11,
13 and 14 Cent”. From here you can just about spot the 21st century
— ah yes, there it is up ahead.
Seen one, seen a mall
Now I have to say, I’m no expert on shopping. I can actually need
to buy things in a shop and not be able to force myself to go in. The
exceptions are (a) book shops; (b) music shops. But usually I prefer to
go to the pub. And in Norwich that was easy. Bloke at the bar told me
there was a pub for every year of the day hereabouts — no, no, it
must have been every day of the year, and a church for every week of the
year.
Homespun philosophy aside, Norwich’s pubs are friendly, cosy, and
many of them are adjuncts to micro-breweries, so a plentiful supply of
real ale is guaranteed. And there’s plenty of longevity about —
the Adam & Eve in the centre of Norwich dates back to 1320.
But back to the shopping. A huge complex called Chapelfield (www.chapelfield.co.uk)
stands inside the old medieval walls, and it’s an architectural
wonder itself — you’ll be shopping and gawping. And yes, there
was a book shop! Borders, no less. Much, much more as well. This isn’t
just retail therapy. This is retail treatment, rehabilitation, cure and
rest.
Over 80 shops — including top brand and fashion names (House of
Fraser etc) — in what is one of the largest shopping centres to
open in Britain these last couple of years.
The complex was built on the grounds of a derelict chocolate factory —
and here’s a globule of 25 carat trivia: One of the brass vats for
melting Nestle’s toffee now serves as a font in the aforementioned
cathedral.
Fortunately there are plenty of places to get your breath back —
namely over 20 restaurants and cafes. I can recommend McIntosh’s
Canteen, a restaurant specialising in contemporary cuisine, both for its
food and friendly service.
For further recuperation or revitalising, head for the Forum, Norwich’s
Millennium project, in the very heart of the city. This complex boasts
cafes, restaurants, library, museum and in the winter months an ice rink.
You can also survey 2000 years of Norwich’s history at Origins,
an interactive museum exhibition. All the usual suspects — Romans,
Vikings, Normans — are present and correct, as well as the Americans,
who fetched up here in large numbers during the Second World War.
I have to tell you I really enjoyed my visit to Norwich. It wasn’t
at all how I imagined East Anglia to be. But then experience is what you
get when you were expecting something else.
Bloke in the Adam & Eve told me that.
Malcolm Rogers flew to Norwich with Flybe on its daily service from
Dublin(www.flybe.com) and stayed at the four star Sprowston Marriott Hotel
(01603 410871). www.marrriottsprowstonmanor.co.uk
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