Lavenham

Today’s been a less eventual day: we spent most of the morning enjoying the sunshine and each reading a Christopher Fowler mystery that we got in an op shop in Bury St Edmunds (I think – all the op shops are starting to coalesce into one homogenous mass).
But this afternoon we set off to Lavenham, primarily to see the Guildhall, which is 16th century, like the house we’re staying in, but also to see the various other 16th century houses in the main streets. Not so much because they’re 16th century but because they’re odd. Every one of them is skew-whiff. The ground floor sections aren’t too bad, but the upper storeys either lean to the left, or lean to the right, or even lean out over the street. Consequently casements are out of kilter, and presumably floors are likewise. In the Guildhall itself, in the upper storey, you go gradually downhill as you walk through the museum, and then back uphill again. Part of the problem no doubt, is age. Part of the problem surely must be that there’s been some upheaval in the earth beneath, or that the piles of the houses have shifted. Perhaps there was some manic builder who couldn’t set a house straight – my wife doesn’t seem to think this is a likely possibility. Whatever the situation, the strangest thing is that these houses have survived. You have to wonder why they haven’t been pulled down by some 19th century developer and replaced by something more sturdy – and secure!
By the way, Lavenham isn't pronounced like Taverham (in Norfolk) but like the beginning of the word, lavendar. The 'h' still goes missing, so we get Laven'am. Celia and I had a debate about the pronunciation, and of course she had to check it out with a local.