Sunday

A 4am alarm on Sunday morning for the boxing.

POW.

Right in the kisser, etc.

I’d wager that I was the only person on the caravan site who had snaffled the dodgy modern interweb connection to connect to a stream.

It was a freak show, for sure.

But I quite like freak shows.

The early hour meant that I was able to roll out on the roadie at a traffic free time of 6:30am.

Oh dear

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I headed out east to Wells Next the Sea, and then double-backed across to Sheringham.

#WeirdWiv? F-knows

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It was a speedy ride out with empty roads. I got a little lost at the turnaround post.

Norfolk. Aye

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UB40 were in town later.

A One in Ten chance to see them in North Norfolk, etc.

I had Many Rivers to Cross on the bicycle…

Plus a BONKERS Catholic camping convention outside of Walsingham.

87km later and I was back at base in time for breakfast.

I set off on a round trip to Cromer in the afternoon, walking along the beach.

North Norfolk, innit

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I pondered packing my f717 camera for this trip. In the end I couldn’t fit it in my bicycle bag.

North Norfolk, innit

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I was forced to shoot on the iPhone along the beach. This is the tipping point when I convince myself that the iPhone is more powerful than the camera.

North Norfolk, innit

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I need to cut down the workflow. Shooting on a camera and an iPhone is nonsense.

I wonder if I can get away with the iPhone alone when the schools return in September?

La Vuelta highlights took up early evening.

Pretty whacked.

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