A Cold Morning in Great Yarmouth

I've finally had time to look back on some pictures I took at the beginning of December on a club outing to Norfolk.  We had been staying for the weekend in Acle (geographical centre of the known universe) and on Sunday morning the hardcore "nature" members of the group headed off to Strumpshaw fen.  Meanwhile the stragglers - including me - went into a very cold and blustery Great Yarmouth followed by a superb lunch in front of a roaring fire at The Ferry Inn, Stokesby.

There's something about seaside towns out of season which calls for a gritty, other-worldly treatment...

There's something about Great Yarmouth which makes one feel as though trapped in a time warp.  It reminds me of seaside towns I visited as a child in the late 1960s, and doesn't seem to have moved on.