Jurassic larks
Denis Mann and his family enjoy a sense of different eras separated by millions of years on a trip to Norfolk
WE hadn’t realised dinosaurs walked the Earth down Norfolk way, but there they were, right before us: a couple of storeys high and sounding mighty grumpy for a local, who are generally cheerful, friendly types, and not so tall.
You wouldn’t mistake them for real dinosaurs. This is a good thing. I’ve seen the Jurassic Park films, all 200 of them, and – spoiler alert – it doesn’t end well for the humans.
Here at ROARR! the velociraptors move only as far as the animatronics allow, which is not very far and not very fast. Perhaps a little less thrilling than a Steven Spielberg blockbuster, but at least you don’t have to hide in the kitchen cupboards.
I thought our two small homo sapiens (seven-year-old twin girls) would be a tad too old for ROARR! But they were jumping-up-and-down-on-thespot, in love with the place.
And we all enjoyed pretending to be scared when we finally found good old Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Despite the theme, this is a relaxing place to visit. The whitest knuckles are those of the parents gripping the barriers as they watch their young ones on the Swing-O-Saurus or the Raptor Contraptor. Teens would maybe sneer at such genteel thrills, but Millie and Nora were in raptures.
There’s a water park that dumps freezing water on top of excited kids, but we didn’t dare venture in on a cool spring day. A few brave souls did, and it looked great fun.
And there was a live stage show, a short film, indoor slides and climbing frames, cars that Year Twos can drive, a maze and before we knew it, hours had shot by.
We left very happy, ruddy-faced, pretty tired and sneakily educated. Big tick. ROARR! is near Norwich, but our business was north for the rest of our short break. In that little bit of heaven they call the Norfolk coast.
Come prepared: you can have five seasons in one day round here – the four standard ones and a special Norfolk season with all of the above all at the same time.
The gorgeous Georgian town of Holt, like the dinosaurs, is from a different era. People here say good morning as they pass by. Shopkeepers smile as you enter their premises
And the food and drink! On the first night at our faultless cottage, sourced from the Norfolk Cottage Agency, I was sent to check out dining options at the local pubs (a dirty job).
A pint of Moon Gazer Ostara (9/10) and another of Barsham’s Eastern Gold (9/10) and no further exploration was required (shame). I’d found a table at the Feathers, quite a smart dining pub on the High Street, where we ate like hungry plesiosauruses and still had change out of £70.
The coastal seafood platter for two (£26) was so substantial we had a doggy bag of smoked salmon and prawns for snacks at home. We had a full English breakfast (£12.45) at the Owl Tea Rooms and it was immaculate.
And we took home supper from the Holt Fish Bar that may have been the best fried cod I’ve ever tasted. Out on the crunchy coast, we loved the Dun Cow at Salthouse: gourmet food in a comfy pub with views over the salt marshes. Brilliant, wild, lonely walks here, with great bird-watching opportunities.
The back-in-time vibe is reinforced by the restored steam trains that run from Holt to the Victorian resort of Sheringham – £52 for a family of four gets you unlimited travel.
Sheringham has traditional seaside attractions – the girls were magnetically drawn to the arcades – but the beaches are the glory.
Pebbles give way to sand as the tide retreats and it’s a pleasure to paddle, skim stones and bury your feet in the gloop.
And I’m told the temperature of the water becomes almost bearable in summer – when we shall return.