EDitorial ± 23-Oct-2007
Bewilderwood, A Treehouse Adventure
Half term. G. away for the day. Me plus three kids. Somehow we're out of the house by nine-ish, picnic prep-ed and packed, and heading up the A140. Around Norwich (oh dear, here comes the rain) to Roy's Town, aka Wroxham, and it's only a few not terribly well-signed minutes to Bewilderwood.
Fortunately Dad's remembered the kids' raincoats. Though not his own, bummer. So it's a damp & dismal & drizzly debut as we head in. Paul McKenna a head, for future reference.
Within a short while, though, kiddies are climbing big wooden frames, crossing bridges, and holding on to zip wires which carry them up, up and away. Not too much sliding, however, what with the staff mopping up. Plus nobody's too keen to take off their shoes.
Naturally The Boy has a couple of scrapes, bruising both shin and cheek at the same time. He's a worry. And he really really wants to eat lunch in the car then head straight home. Thank goodness, then, for my rucksack collection of paper napkins and bags for life, giving us a dry-ish bench near the snack shack. The solitary undercover table can't be had for L. nor M. No hot food available, either: they're working on it, so they say.
Post lunch, conditions cheer up and so do we. Messing about in the maze, swinging on the three-seater and finally catching the boat back to the entrance. So, good place, will only improve, but you do need the weather.