posted on Nov, 16 2011 @ 08:40 AM
This one is a bit UK-centric, so bear with me.
Growing up in the 70s, I used to think Norwich was really, really glamourous. Palm trees lining the sun-bathed streets full of beautiful people all
basking in the riches that is Englands answer to Hollywood. Norwich was were dreams were made. The centre of the universe. I always wanted to go there
to bask in the glory that was Norwich.
All because of a game show, called Sale of the Century. Yep, every week I would be transfixed by Sale of the Century, with it's ever so exciting
"And now, from Norwich. It's the quiz of the week!" line, followed by pictures of shiny Austin 1000s, holiday apartments in Spain and assorted
household goods. Oh. My God. The glamour. The excitement. The sheer unadulterared smell of money, good times and exuberance. To a lad brought up in
the City of Liverpool it was quite heady stuff.
Imagine my disappointment when I finally got to visit Norwich when I was in my 20s....
Damn you, Nicholas Parsons. Damn you to Hull!