Day 14 – North Norfolk
I couldn’t wait to get away from Sutton Bridge. From the moment I arrived, after my hair-raising ride from King’s Lynn, at a building which looked deserted, to the moment I left, was a thoroughly unpleasant experience. I suppose my judgement was clouded by the refusal to cancel the booking but she was within her rights. I took an instant dislike and closer acquaintance did not improve things.
There was nowhere to sit down and eat within a mile, so I resorted, once again, to buying a meal deal at the next-door shop and retiring to my room to eat it and drink the Aussie red whilst I blogged. The closure of so many pubs over the last 10 years has meant that I often find myself without a nearby hostelry and that reduces the chance of meeting people to chat with.
Partly my concern with leaving Lucy chained inadequately, open to view from the road and pavement and partly because the road was busy throughout the night, I slept poorly and went down for breakfast at about 0745. I was damned if I was going to miss breakfast on principle but it wasn’t one of the best with tinned tomatoes, insipid sausage and slightly overdone eggs. Let’s draw a veil over the whole sorry business
I left at 0836 and crossed back over Sutton Bridge, an imposing structure that swings open to allow the passage of cargo boats.
And retraced my steps of the night before to the Great Ouse river crossing that had almost caused me to turn back. The wind was still perceptible but only about half the speed of yesterday as I made my way through and around King’s Lynn, a town of nearly 50,000 people, much larger than I had thought and it showed in the time it took me to finally clear the suburbs at North Wootton. My route was largely off-road with good cycle paths or wide pavements until I reached Castle Rising a fine 12th century keep which was completely hidden from my view and then on to the grandest Norfolk estate of all Sandringham. This was owned personally by the late Queen and passed to King Charles on her death. Again, the house can’t be seen from the road but there were a large number of people visiting. The nearest I got was a picture of one of the avenues of trees
I continued past Snettisham and had to divert because of a road closure but after almost 30 miles of the journey I finally saw the sea at Heacham and then followed the coastal road up to Huntstanton, surprisingly busy for a weekday in term-time
Moving north to Old Hunstanton kite surfers were using the force 4-5 wind to good effect putting some colour into a drab day.
Here my northerly route changed to an easterly one which was helpful as the wind was now largely in the west, and, on several occasions, I was coasting along without pedalling. This north Norfolk coast is desolate marsh, beautiful in its own way, and there are many bird observatories and opportunities to explore the natural world. The only road along this coast is the A149, not busy and I didn’t feel threatened at any point. You are largely out of sight of the sea unless you turn off at one of the Staithes or small harbours. These are several miles of winding estuary from open water.
And the river is filled with small craft.
Onto the greatest of these, Wells-next-the-Sea, which was heaving with day-trippers enjoying their lunch
This fine granary has been converted into luxury flats but the loading structure has been retained for visual effect.
I passed through Stiffkey (pronounced Stewkey) infamous for its one-time rector Harold Davidson who was defrocked by a consistory court in 1932 for immorality with young girls. Davidson protested his innocence and publicised his case by appearing in seaside spectaculars including exhibiting himself in a barrel on Blackpool beach. He met an unfortunate end in Skegness when he was attacked and killed by a lion in whose cage he was appearing as a publicity stunt.
The road was starting to become a bit of a roller coaster and, as I was out of sight of the sea I thought I would push on to Sheringham, my final destination and try to find a launderette as, after two weeks on the road, I’m starting to hum a bit. However the launderette that I found was service washes only so I was left with a couple of hours to kill before I could get into my room at the Youth Hostel. I went down to the front
un-inspiring and back up into the town – no better, but I did discover that there was a café open for evening meals, and into Tesco to buy a bottle of wine until I finally found a bench beside the North Norfolk railway and did the Telegraph daily puzzles. I also discovered that there is a launderette in a petrol service station that I passed on my way into Sheringham. Had I realised that, it would have passed the time nicely but I shall go there tomorrow morning and wash and dry everything before I set off to Southwold, judged recently to be one of the best places to live in the UK.
