A police incident at Rollesby meant a diversion, so we were forced to take the back lanes behind a Carlsberg lorry, which saved the council a lot of work by scalping all the roadside hedges. Given how narrow the lanes were, it was probably the best lorry in the world to follow.
With the sky tinting pink and the temperature starting to dip, we parked up at the NWT centre, Hickling, only to discover that Sue had forgotten her coat. Lucky then, that there was a fetching salmon pink blanket in the car boot.
Oh by the way, we were in Hickling to watch the raptor roost, having been informed that we could expect to see upwards of forty cranes and marsh harriers at some point after sunset.
The mile walk down to the viewing point was a bit special. We're talking sensory overload, what with the pathway arched in white blossom and the hedgerows framed in burnt gold. The only activity - a lone farmer ploughing, his every move followed by massed gulls.
On arrival at the viewing platform, the Barbour-clad twitchers were somewhat thrown by Sue looking sexy as sin, in leopard skin leggings and pink wraparound top. Opinion was divided: the outfit would either attract wildlife or give them all migraine. Unfortunately it proved to be the latter.
Thirty minutes in and it became clear we weren't going to see a damn thing. And that's when the stand-off started. We may have been inappropriately dressed, but as a matter of honour we weren't going to be first to leave for the pub.
Finally as we all stood shivering under a clear moon, the tall twitcher, took one last look at Sue before setting off home. His final remark on passing - " that's the first time in thirty years that I haven't seen a crane."
Personally I don't think the cranes, owls and marsh harriers were overly concerned with Sue's outfit. We were just unlucky, that's all.
