North Norfolk Coast Walk Spring 2011

When i was a teenager growing up i lived in a little town in Norfolk, England. My parents often took us children to the coast, be it Hunstanton, Brancaster, Wells next the sea or Cromer.

As a way of recapturing some of those childhood memories and as a way of exploring the complete north Norfolk coast i planned to start in Kings Lynn and head up to Hunstanton then just head east along the coast.

I had no idea how far i could walk. I took the single man tent i used in the walk to the south coast and additionally to the usual stuff a fryingpan and other cooking utensils. In all the back pack weighed 25lbs, 5 lbs more than south coast walk.

Day 1 - Kings Lynn to Castle RisingOn 12th May 2011 i walked from home to the local train station and caught the train to Kings Lynn arriving around 2pm. I tried to buy a decent map at the train station but in the end settled on a very crude sightsee-ers map.
I used to go to college in Kings Lynn so was familiar with the town a bit.
I even cycled into Kings Lynn from home a few times when i missed the coach and back again (some 35 miles all told).

However even though i carried a compass i still got lost easily.
First off i tried to head North West so that i'd reach the coast. I intended to go north along the shore of the Wash.
Alas the roads north west out of Kings Lynn take one round the houses and the so called shore is not open to the public.

So i followed the trunk road as it twisted round the top side of Kings Lynn finally reaching South Wootten then turning north went through North Wootten towards Castle Rising.

Here the weather started to look a bit miserable and by Castle Rising it was starting to spit. However it soon dissipated and before long the sun had shown its face a little.

However it was now getting late and i had to camp before long. I was also feeling pretty tired.

As usual i decided to rough it finding a secluded wood not far from the main road north but quiet enough still.

My pitched bed near Castle Rising, Norfolk

I found a nice leaved soft ground underneath some trees and pitched my tent.

Soon the light faded and before long it was completely dark. The time shot on the left Tent picture was 8:55pm but then it was May.








Day 2 - Castle Rising to Thornham
The following morning i arose about 6am after a fitful night, packed up and walked to the road.

Scene looking North West near Castle Rising

The sky was clear and i knew then it was gonna be a scorcher that day.

The nice scene on the right was shot looking north west from the road. I'm still not sure what the brick block was beside the bridge.

All along my route so far i'd been looking for paths north west to reach the coast but there seemed none.

Also whilst i did carry a map it was a local road guide map so was very hazy on details.

It also seems that In norfolk public footpaths are often unmarked. I walked along many unmarked paths that later were revealed as public right of ways on map.

Looking north along A149 near Snettisham, Norfolk

I reached the main north road and just followed it north towards Hunstanton, passed Babingly and the turning for Sandringham, past Dersingham and just before Snettisham i finaly found a turning to the sea named Snettisham Beach.

I gladly followed it as it wound its way for quite some miles before eventually reaching a caravan site and the beach.

I took some time out to visit the general stores and stock up on some rations. I'm sure my pack weighed near 30 lbs after my visit.

I then walked up onto the beach and simply followed it north.

Looking North on Snettisham Beach, Norfolk

The shore was never ending (or so it seemed). What i thought had been the distant reflections of Hunstanton windows turned out to be Heacham Holiday homes, a massive sprawl of static mobile homes cordened off aside the beach behind a high sand bank.

Beyond this was miles and miles of lonely beach. The tide was out (or so it seemed) but i'd heard that the sand was much more like quicksand than conventional beaches so dared not to venture beyond the dry pebbles.

And so the beach continued, for miles and miles. I look at the map now and think to myself it wasn't that far to walk. But i know that trudging through sand slows one down. Stepping onto shingle is equally slowing.

Beach huts near Hunstanton, Norfolk

But eventually i reached the edge of Hunstanton and the rows and rows of beach huts that seemed to go for miles. Fortunately concrete breakers had been put in place making walking vastly easier.

Some of these huts were delapadated wrecks, others pristine new builds. Some has more permant residency such as two level beach houses with patio on first floor facing the beach.

Crumbling Cliffs in Hunstanton, Norfolk

Eventually this scenery was replaced with a fair ground with big red tent turrets and roller coasters.
Then the seafront and promenade and after it the iron red cliffs of Hunstanton.

I now gradually climbed the walk way up onto the top of the cliffs and walked along over the green to the fairway and disused lighthouse and an old fort's remains.





Then back down as the Cliff fell away, back onto the beach and across the flat sand towards a distant clump of dark green on the horizon.

Looking West towards Hunstanton Cliffs

As i walked over the flat sands i began to notice pieces of wood. Some pieces of poles, some drift wood and one such piece caught my eye so much i felt the urge to pick it up.
It was a sawn off corner of a pole, smoothed by many many years of sand and eternal tides.
It reminded me of a door wedge though it was thoroughly soaked.

Regardless, i thought it so lovely i placed it in my pack and continued walking vereing towards the tide. Perhaps it would be a momento for this journey.

I looked back towards Hunstanton where my family had brought me so many years ago, as a young boy.
And then it was behind me again as i reached for the distant clump.
As the tide line approached little glistening riverlets began to appear in the sand ahead. The once firm surface gradually began to shift into a shallow sludge.
It didn't hinder my walking though my pace dropped a little. I reached the narrowest rivelet and spanned it with one big leap. My boots were bought for comfort rather than any water staiving properties.

I passed a family walking the other way and finally reached the tide. Its distance had been deceptively close but a bit of a let down. The cascade of water tumbling in then out, in then out. The noise was and will always be eternally mesmorising.

I followed the tide line for a while then concentrated back on the clump of green.
Gradually it became larger until eventually i climbed up onto the sand bank and in amongst the gorse and bracken. It seemed like the perfect spot for roughing it the second night. It was certainly isolated and i'd not slept on sand before so should be nice and soft. The heat of the sun was now making me feel like flopping down and nodding off so i did just that. Several hours later i awoke and still everything was quiet.

I arose and decided to find a better spot. I could now see a clump of trees on the horizon close to the sea. I imagined a Robinson Crusoe scene with the trees bordering the shore and sitting on a grass clump leaning against a Ketts oak, The sun would be glistening behind the trees by now, the eternal tide entrancing me to slumber.
But the sand banks arose before there and the path laid out before me appeared to vere away from those trees. Eventually i found my way back to the beach and along a better coastal path.

I was not specifically following the Norfolk Coast Path, we just happened to cross paths more than once.

As i approached the distant dark wood the dunes, grassy tuffs and sea became much more familiar. This was the North Norfolk i was sure i remembered from childhood. Clambering over the grassy dunes to see the sea shore and the eternal light yellow sand where we could play forever in the silence.

The trees thickened into a wood of pine on the sandy soil. In places the path was reinforced with slats of wood.

Here i met a lovely couple, walking there Spaniel. They were more than happy to tell me where i was and the best path to take.

I was now following their guidelines but i'd forgotten to ask them the time. Long before my mobile had died and i now only had the sun for the time.

The path through the woods kept splitting, with one path going toward the sea and the other continueing east.

The path was also becoming continuous slats, a wooden bridge walkway and now it led up to Holme Bird Sanctuary, a relatively remote fenced lake and wetland with a wooden path leading away and a wooden gate leading into the sanctuary. There was also what looked like a wooden bus stop hut complete with seat and timetable.

However there was no one around so i continued on the path which gradually turned inwards along the top of a bank aside the estuary near Thornham.

The flat wetlands disturbed occasionally by old wooden barns, some about to collapse, others in better repair but always on the other side of the river.

I passed a jetty where there were moored some sailing boats. Perhaps this was low tide for it seemed nye inpossible to get a boat out to the sea from here.

I continued along the path which then took me into Thornham.

I folowed the road a while through this quaint north Norfolk village.

Most buildings seemed to be made of Norfolk flint, trimmed with red brickwork.

I then turned south onto the Choseley Road, following the coastal path religiously.

This time the path took me away from the coast and into the farms and fields of Norfolk.

However i was now getting very tired. Afterall i had walked all the way from Castle Rising that day!
It was also getting rather late and the day was looking decidedly old.

Eventually after climbing what i thought was a steep hill i spied a strip of silver birch and fur trees down a track. I eventually found an open area, took a moment to clear the ground of fir cones and twigs and pitched up for the second night.

Day 3 - Thornham to Wells next the Sea
I had a reasonable night, getting up only twice. I got up very early (around 4:30) and packed up.
I started walking farther up the track then had second thoughts and backed down the track to the road again.
I didn't want to get lost and whilst the map was clearly wrong.. the cross path was far too far away from the coast, i eventually found it.
On the right of this path was a small wooded area with a good bed of leaves. I hit myself for not choosing this place to camp for the night rather than the windy outcrop i had slept in.
Anyway i continued to walk. The path crossed several roads, again not marked on the map before finally heading north again towards Brancaster.
On the way north lay several caravans, trucks and broken cars. They reminded me of the remote house near Ovington near where i lived for many years and the romany family that lived there.
I pondered if i shall meet them here but all was very quiet and it was (after all) still very early in the morning.
The sun was beginning to shine just a little too heavily as i walked into the village of Brancaster and passed the Church. There, opposite the graveyard, was a village bench aside a very old stone wall.

I sat awhile musing over that mornings walk and the previous couple of days.

I ate a little from my pack and drank from my water which was fast running low.

After almost nodding off i clasped my back pack and off i went again. Following the road as it wound its way back towards the coast.

Fortunately the turn off to the Norfolk Coastal path was clearly marked and for a while it hugged the edge of Brancaster's gardens.

The ground changed here. In order to protect the fragile sandy moors and wetlands, wooden sleepers (planks of wood) had been laid down upon the land and covered with wire netting. These formed long walkways that twistied and turned out of view.

The day was fresh and sunny. The sky so vividly wide and open, so typical of Norfolk.

Most of these sleepers were in exceptional condition and permitted me to speed up a little.

But the constant silent walking, was becoming intolerable and tiring so as i had always done i began to hum to myself. If i was not conscious enough it would flow through my spirit and once i recalled doing it i would revel at its beauty but never recall it enough to lay it down on paper.

Singing for me makes walking tolerable whilst my eyes can drift over the scenery.

If i had thoughts or a tune i felt i wanted to explore i recorded them on my dictaphone.
In this way i was able to forget the pain of the load on my shoulders.

I came across a sturdy bench, looking out on the Brancaster Estuary.

The bench was dedicated to someone with the initials R.G.W but what struck me most was the little wooden mouse or rodent under the left arm.

It was wonderful. I sat a while, then had a short nap and eventually set off again.

Before long i reached Brancaster Staithe Sailing Club's harbour.

It was still early for a Sunday morning, around 9am and unfortunately a nearby crab stall was shut, opening around 10:30 on Sunday. Such a shame.

As i was to realise after the escapade, i never did taste a dressed crab or fresh shellfish from the north norfolk coast.

But now there was a problem.
There were no signs as to where the path continued.

I assumed it was further into the harbour area, but alas no.

Back and forth i walked, for several minutes before finally guessing the waters edge must be the path, and it was.


Again the path hugged the edge of gardens of Brancaster Staithe and then after a short patch of countryside the gardens of Burnham Deepdale. I then passed by an open gravelled area and heard a football match in the distance. A little further and on my right lay beneath much undergrowth an old WWII shelter.
Then we were back in the open wilderness again.

For many miles now the path followed the top of a bank that turned into the estuary. It almost seemed that it would keep going, all the way to Norway.

The Norfolk scenery is always interesting. The wetlands are not bereft of features or beauty.

It's just that they lack the dimension that hills provide but as a consequence provide wide skies and maximise on an open landscape.

Some people feel it is hard to live in a place without hills or mountains but then i suspect there are also people who would find them claustraphobic.

In many places there were boats just lying there. No padlock or up-ended to prevent them being stolen but then out here, the chances of anyone stealing a boat is pretty remote. It's also doubtful they'd not get far without oars or a high tide.

At many intervals along this bank there were steps down on one side. I'm not certain what they were for. Perhaps access to the fields beyond or water release valves.

I stopped halfway down the path and took a rest. I even snoozed a while until i was interrupted by footsteps running past me. A young lady in gym shorts ran passed. I was spurned back into action and eventually the bank joined another and i began heading back south towards civilisation.

It was not until i reached the mainland that i found the shortcut path west. Had i chosen to take that path i might have saved many miles.

On the horizon now stood the most magnificent Windmill complete with hat and sails.

The path now split fize ways. Two west, two east and one the way i'd come.

Of the two east, one rose up a path through a field aside the windmill and the other went alongside the wetland but was clearly marked as no access to village.

So i took the field path and soon reached the road. I now continued by road hoping to find a place to eat and get water. My supply was a few sips from empty and i was beginning to dry up. I reached the quaint village of Burnham Overy Staithe with its rose coloured houses and well pruned green hedges. I finally reached the village pub only to discover it opened at midday. I sat on the benches outside to mull over what to do.

It was 9am and i wasn't going to wait 3 hours. I happened upon a nice old gentleman walking his dog and asked for directions to Wells. I then stuck the backpack on again and soldiered on forgetting the lack of water. Before i remembered i'd reached the edges of the village.

Sitting on bank just outside Burnham over Staithe

I went to a row of cottages on the right and banged on 3 doors before giving up. No one was around or up or interested in answering. I eventually found a lady willing to replenish my water. The kind woman was about to drive off in her 4x4 so filled up my 2 litre with the outside tap. She then insisted on giving me the bottle she had in the car, saying that it was much fresher than the garden water.

She was right. No sooner had i finished off the Evian the 2 Litre tasted distinctly stale. Nevertheless it was water. I filled up my Evian bottle and continued.

Eventually i arrived at the outskirts of Holkham Hall. This great house is surrounded by a long wide stone wall which (to me) seemed to go on forever.
The road also hit some low hills here though on foot

Holkham Hall Wall with Mile Stone for Wells

and being so used to the flat wetlands was a bit of a challange for me.

Eventually i reached the end and the village of Holkham which featured a gate on the left the lead to the beach. This sight reminded me of childhood. My parents had brought us here as children then on to the beach. Such happy memories.

On the right some farm buildings and then a rather large public house. I soon realised this was a rather expensive affair. The food menu was vastly over priced. The clientel looked way too smart and i realised that i'd just jumped out of the lake where i had been.

Anyway i strolled in regardless, still with 25lb backpack on me and asked for the bar and then a Ice cold Lemonade. They charged almost a fiver but i didn't care. I walked outside, slung my pack down and drank crystals, pure crystal. Such refreshment is only appreciated when well earnt.
There is absolutely nothing like a glass of Lemonade after a long, dry walk

I chatted a while with a husband and wife over with there caravan from somewhere up north. It was there last week and they'd be heading back Sunday.
They left and so did i.

Eventually i reached the sign that i'd reached Wells but it would be a good few more miles before i finally arrived.

In Wells i wanted to visit Walsingham. I'm not a religious man, i never have been. I still hold some spiritualism and i would love to believe if such proof or self belief showed itself.
I found out that there was a steam railway that ran from Wells to Walsingham and i asked around and was directed South East out of town.

I hoped it wasn't too far because i was beginning to feel very tired again. I walked up the hill and saw a shop to the right of me called The Big Blue Sky. It was actually a bric and brac shop but they were having a special day raising money for Cancer Research. One would make a donation and get a cup of tea and a cake for free. Well you only need advertise once.

After a well deserved cup of tea i continued and soon reached The Wells and Walsingham Light Railway.
This narrow gauge railway boasted fully enclosed passenger compartments with the same stability as the wider variety.

Remember Walsingham south of Wells i went to same day and miniature train journey, the wild mushroom story and llamas on road.
The brikabrac shop (maybe name on google maps?) that sold tea and ?

Day ? - Wells next the Sea to Sheringham
What sort of night? weather?
It was easy to find the sea again. Just head due north along this anfdd that road until eventually arriving at the docks. Yes, docks! A very tall wooden building (insert pic) had some sort of parapet for dispensing goods to very tall ships i assume. I walked down beneath this, following directions to the North Norfolk Coastal Path.
The path soon turned from tarmac back to gravel and then grass again. But now it split.
One headed Northeast, another East.
Since i wished to hug the coast i took the former.
However the path was lain upon the top of a very, very long and very straight bank that shot North East.
This land was gaunt of change. No trees, no humans, little wildlife and no sea to watch, just the peaceful neverending path. After at least 2 hours of walking the path came to a junction of banks. One heading north and the other South East. I followed the South East one towards a wonderful windmill high up on the hill.