I’m just back from a visit to the UK and I took the opportunity to visit my mother. She lives in north Norfolk, in a little town called Aylsham. I adore this place: every time I visit I wander around in awe, as it is so totally English. I can see from the buildings and architecture the antiquity. But what is it about the people? Admittedly many of them are antique too, but they are still out shopping in town, with their baskets and canes, not hidden away the way they seem to be here. Why can you look at a person, take away the surroundings, and still reckon that they are English?
On this trip, I happily discovered Carousel Chocolates on Red Lion Street. This is a newly opened shop (in the last couple of years), yet looks as if it’s been there forever!