19 May 2016 - Norwich Club Site, Norfolk

As predicted, the day dawned fine. I did a load of washing and pegged it on the line as a vote of confidence, packed up the eski with lunch and we headed off for our days tiki-tour which was targeted toward the north Norfolk coast line.

As we headed out of the city courtesy of our navigational device, we happened upon Caister St Edmund, the remains of the Roman town of Venta Icenorum.

In the dry summer of 1928 aerial photography revealed the pattern of Roman streets and buildings inside the walls of the town. The existence of the Roman town had long been known, but these remarkable images awakened national interest. Excavations followed between 1929 and 1935, which found evidence for major public buildings including the forum, a bath-house and the south gate. These were later reburied.

From 2006 the University of Nottingham has led a programme of excavation and research which has radically changed the understanding of the town and the people who lived here. It was here that the Iceni people lived for two hundred years or so after the revolt by Bodica and her force of fighters in about AD 60, in relative peace with their colonial usurpers. Around 2,000 people may have lived here in the 4^th century.

Sheep grazing the archeology digs

Since the last round of serious archaeology was undertaken, the remains have been re-covered and sheep now graze over evidence of this fascinating history. This is considered to be the most satisfactory way of conserving the site for now, so for the visitor, there are only information panels and tracks around the wall that seem to serve dog walkers more than anyone else. The car park is lined with signs warning of theft in the area so it would seem that it is not entirely forgotten by the Norwich populace. 

We resumed our route. Heading for Fakenham, our way through narrow country lanes, dense (at least by English standards) bush, finally crossing the River Wensum, that which passes through the middle of Norwich, here little more than a pretty creek. We emerged onto the A1067 and soon passed a sign to Pensthorpe Natural Park, advertised as having been voted Norfolk’s Best Largest Attraction for both 2014 and 2015. Thinking we should check this out, we drove in, stopping several times along the long drive to make way for swamp hen chicks. This looked promising, we thought, but soon found that while the café and the gift shop were free to enter, there was a charge of about £10 each. Now had this been our only destination for the day, we might have considered hanging about, however we had not even reached the first on our list.

We arrived in Fakenham, only curious to see the place on a drive through. This rural service town was just buzzing, and we soon found that Thursday was the day of the big auction, along with the weekly market, all ruling out any short term parking for even the casual visitor. We drove on out.

Heading almost directly north toward Wells-next-the Sea, but on more minor roads, we came to Little Walsingham, at my bidding and to Chris’s consternation. For centuries, it rivalled Bury St Edmunds and Canterbury as the foremost pilgrimage site in England. 

Ruins at Little Walsingham

It all began in 1061 when the lady of the manor, Richeldis de Faverches, was prompted to build a replica of the Santa Casa (Mary’s home in Nazareth) in this remote part of Norfolk, inspired , it is said, by visions from the Virgin Mary. Whatever the reality, it brought instant fame and fortune to Little Walsingham and every medieval king from Henry III onwards made at least one trip, walking the last mile in barefoot.  Both Augustinians and Franciscans established themselves here and all was buzzing along even when Henry VIII followed in his predecessors’ steps in 1511. Alas, his motive or spiritual intentions were soon forgotten when he destroyed the shrine in the Dissolution of the 1530s, thus ending the village’s economy in a single stroke.

As you contemplate all of this, all of the historical structures throughout England that were simply destroyed on the whim of a king, it brings to mind the wanton destruction by ISIS of the great cultural icons of the East in very recent times. The passing of history teaches mankind nothing.

Back here in Little Walsingham, the local vicar, Alfred Hope Patten, organised an Anglo-Catholic pilgrimage in 1922, which rejuvenated the cult following and now we all stream in to see this history, or consider our navels at the shrines that have been reconstructed, or buy the religious bric-a-bac either as souvenirs or reliquaries. Even for infidels such as ourselves, we were stitched up for the price of parking and the entrance fee for a wander through the ruins of the Augustinian Abbey, something Chris is still mumbling about this evening. For myself, I found it fascinating and was glad to have had my way in travelling via this strange little village.

The beach at Blakeney

We travelled on to the north, to Wells which Chris wanted to visit. Here like everywhere else, parking is never free, and there are no spots by the sea, or anywhere apart from unattractive spaces on the side of motorways, to simply pull up on and enjoy the environment. We did however find a space at sea level, the views all obscured by walls and banks, to eat our lunch. We still had a whole day’s schedule ahead of us and only half a day to squeeze it all in; Wells-next-the-Sea had to take a back seat.

We pressed on along the north coast, travelling on the same road in the same easterly direction that we had just over a year ago. Then in the hired motorhome over Easter, we had found it impossible to find anywhere to pause. Today we were a little luckier; on reaching Blakeney we pulled down into the car park right on the shore, free for us sporting our National Trust membership windscreen sticker.

Once a bustling port exporting fish, corn and salt, it is now a charming little village of pebble covered cottages sloping up from narrow muddy creek of a harbour. Over the years the silt has changed the entire coastline and left a wide reserve area more suited to birdlife than economic marine activities.

The Hotel de Paris

After a short walk here, we resumed our tour yet again, passing through Cley-next-the-Sea, where last year we found ourselves in a horrendous traffic jam, then on to Sheringham, one of the north coast’s major holiday destinations. Here the houses are covered in smooth pebbles, gathered from the beach, and the seawalls are high concrete structures lacking any charm. More recent efforts have been made to jazz the place up, mural painters at work even today. I am not quite sure what to make of these English seaside resorts; they are so very foreign to my own culture. But I did like the town, today mainly busy with folk our age. We found ourselves in an excellent hardware shop where we bought three items off our list of caravan-essentials-to-buy, before finding our way back to the car just before our hour long parking ticket expired, then travelled on to Cromer, the afternoon now getting on. 

Cromer Pier

At Cromer, we again found ourselves in a commercial car park and walked through the town to the seashore. From here we looked down to the pier, a more modest affair than that at Yarmouth, but still very English. The game parlours are not quite as in-your-face here, but somehow I still could not imagine longing for a week or fortnight’s holiday in Cromer.

We popped into the church which stands slap bang in the middle of the town, St Peter and St Paul, which sports the tallest tower in Norfolk at 160 feet. There are splendid stained glass windows throughout the church; we were glad we bothered. 

Cromer became an even more popular holiday spot after the rail arrived in the 1880s, filled with grand hotels; today only the Hotel de Paris survives from those days.

St Peter & St Paul, Cromer

Now late in the afternoon, we headed directly south to Norwich.

Tomorrow morning we will head away from Norwich and head back toward Stowmarket, our base for this time in England. Family affairs will take precedence for a few days although we do hope to fill in a few gaps missed last time around.