A Sign O' The Times Part 2

I overheard a "grockle" (tourist) asking for directions in a petrol station. He wanted to get to Happisburgh.
"Can you tell me where Happisburgh is please"? Pronouncing it as it is spelt, "Happysburr"
The old yokel behind the desk replied, "Never heard of it. I've lived here all of my life and no clue where it is. You've been given the wrong name"
The slightly confused and disgruntled customer left and drove off, not surprisingly in the wrong direction.
"Why didn't you give him directions to Happisburgh"? I asked, pronouncing it "Hazebrough" as the locals do.
"Well if he can't read english, I'm not going to help him" came the predictable reply.

A Sign O' The Times

Travelling through mid-Norfolk, hopelessly lost. It's a warm, sunny day out in the counrtyside for me so for a while i wasn't too bothered. After an hour or so of trying to find this village that's on every signpost I was no longer enjoying things as much. No signs of life, no people to ask. Not even a rambler! Finally found a farm and pulled in. Met the farmer, who seemed so delighted to meet someone he wasn't related to I felt guilty for just wanting directions. I asked for the village anyway.
"That's not a village, it's a parish" came the amused reply.
"But it's on every signpost around here" I explained
"Ooooarrrrr" ,the farmer's laughing at me by now, "Well if you're going to go 'round believing signposts then you're bound to get lost"
Gave up on the visit.