We FINALLY arrived at Borley just after lunchtime on Saturday. I say "FINALLY" as I'm sure anybody paying their first visit to Borley will testify, it's a bitch of a place to find, no signposts of any sort. So by a mixture of a process of elimination and rough map co-ordintates we somewhat belatedly arrived at our destination.
We were luckier than most I gather to find that the chain across the church car park was down, so we pulled in there. I must admit it was my intention to subject my poor wife to three or four hours of roaming about the village, taking a good long look in and around the church, perhaps some tea somewhere and head back to Thetford in time to freshen-up before dinner. WRONG!!! In the event we left after about an hour with a feeling that we'd come pretty close to outstaying our welcome. I can't say why I had that feeling as we hadn't seen, let alone spoken to any villagers. Come to that we hadn't seen another living thing, not even a bird. The place was deathly quiet.
I think what disappointed me most was finding the church locked. I hadn't been prepared for that, but my disappointment was tinged with understanding why they want to keep the masses out of their peaceful village. So we strolled across the road to the site of the former Rectory and there we did experience something slighlty strange. A small twig, about the size of a chopstick was "thrown" at us, hitting my wife. There was no-one to be seen, we were in a wide open space, there was little or no wind and yet this twig had seemed to fly up from in front of us hit my wife just above waist height at fall on the ground in front of us. I'm very glad that (a) there were two of us there to witness it and (b) the other person with me had no interest in the subject whatsoever. She was basically only there in order to humour me and she'd come away having experienced something that could not be easily explained.