I decided to do a day trip to King’s Lynn, purely because it’s in a different county and there’s a direct train from Cambridge. I have only visited once before, in 2012, when I blipped a wall. I remember being in a phase of admiring old walls because I pointed several out to Clare during a walk around Ely, which she visited around the same time.

I tend to be intrigued by random ass towns, and King’s Lynn fits into the category nicely. A teenage girl drinking one of those massive Monster energy drinks burped in my face as I stepped out of King’s Lynn train station, and it pretty much set the tone for the afternoon.

Overall, it was a subdued day with the sort of weather that sours the mood. A lot of people in King’s Lynn are arguing in cars, screaming at each other in houses, or generally being antisocial including by throwing bang snaps at passersby.

King’s Lynn is dripping in history. It has excellent information boards describing ‘Britain’s most historic mart’ and the impressive Custom House on ancient Purfleet Quay.

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