With familiar names like Charing Cross, Blackfriars Bridge, Spitalfields, Haymarket and Pudding Lane, you could mistake Norwich for London. But, during all my years in the Smoke, I never spotted a tree swathed in wrapping paper or a multi-coloured tea set wafting in the leaves, not even when flying high on recreational smarties. Other city streets have a distinctive rural feel – Upper Goat Lane (quite Turkish, when you think about it), Golden Dog Lane, Lobster Lane, Rampant Horse Street and my ecclesiastical favourite, St Gregory’s Back Alley. Who was the saintly Greg and why was his back alley so popular? I think those naughty monks should dish the dirt.
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