Norfolk holiday 2


On the Tuesday we continued walking from just a little further east than the point we'd ended at the day before. We began at a small town called Blakeney.

Blakeney Church

The church was right by the bus stop, so we went there first. It was huge and impressive; apparently this area used to be rich from the wool trade. (We saw plenty of cows but hardly any sheep; I guess times have changed, maybe you get more subsidy for cows.)

There were loads of different carvings including this cute dragon.
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The church altar, through a nice wooden screen.
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Another nice (but slightly weird) carving on one of those half-seat things they have in the choir.
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Sunlight (yes, it didn't rain that day) through a nice plain window.
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Nice tree in the graveyard.
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There were quite a few tourists (apart from us) around the waterfront area. Nice ice cream, too.

As you can see, the dockside (where those pilings are) was carefully designed to cope with high tides.
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As well, there's an old ruined building called the Guildhall; you can walk inside the lowest floor, the rest having been destroyed. I can't remember the full details of the building's history and I'm not sure they know either, but they're certain of one thing: it wasn't a guildhall. Ho hum.

The building was pretty bare and gloomy inside; nice roof, though.
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The sea taking no notice whatsoever of a plainly-visible instruction.
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Blakeney to Cley

A short (three mile) path lead an extremely long way around to the next town of Cley, which is not pronounced Cley but Clee. Mostly it followed the bank of a river whose name I can't remember (we could call it Lethe, I suppose, but... nah).

Nice old boat near Blakeney harbour.
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Coastguard Land Rover between the forgotten river and the sea.
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Bizarre farm trailer loaded with wooden pallets and a baseball cap.
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Cley to Sheringham

After going into Cley the path led straight back out on the other bank of the river, eventually reaching a beach that featured not only a cafe but also a second-hand books stall. Hm.

From there we pretty much walked along the coast all the way to Sheringham, most of it along a large bank of shingle that had been set up as a sea defence.

Sun, sea, and shingle!
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Erm... a post. This isn't a seawater pool, it's at the edge of freshwater marshes on the other side of that bank (and, supposedly, on the other side of that fence.)
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Gorgeous colours in the marshes.
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A boat anchored atop the sea wall.
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From inside a WW2 pillbox in the beach (somebody thought Hitler was going to invade Norfolk); it was half-filled with shingle but there was room to crawl inside.
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Strictly private.
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Boat on the beach.
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As we neared Sheringham, the path took us up onto the clifftop. A sign warned that these were unsafe cliffs and nobody should go near the edge - has anyone ever seen a sign telling you that a place has safe cliffs and you should feel free to lean over?

And there was a bizarre little row of terraced houses all on its own in the middle of nowhere; they looked like they could have been plucked from a Sheffield estate. I have no idea what they're doing there but the end one was flying this flag.
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Dog-walkers (*spit*) on the beach near Sheringham.
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All images © Samuel Marshall. All rights reserved.