Each day when I climb the stairs and come and sit at my desk here, overlooking the Great Ouse, the river is different. As I look now it’s just about high tide and there is just a slight movement of the water from right to left - that is, up-stream. The visible currents and eddies that are there when the tide is rising or falling are gone, and are replaced by a gentle rippled effect of the wind. Strangely, there is one spot of white - a sea gull resting on the water and moving slowly with the tide. The rest is blue - a serene and calm blue.
Looking further I come to the other shoreline - now at high tide the mud flats are covered with water and all one can see is the top of the dyke bank, which is grass covered. The other side of the bank are trees - I know that there are houses there too, but all I can see from this vantage point are the tops of trees - one rounded oak stands in the centre of my field of vision, to its left the spiky tops of some sort of fir tree, and to its left what looks like a double crowned tree - maybe an ash? - but in reality will most likely be two trees close together.
And then the sky - the blue hazy at the horizon, but deepening as I look up - a totally blue sky this morning with not even the hint of a cloud. It looks like this will be another bright day here in Nelson’s county. There are just a few birds - mainly common and black headed gulls - swooping around and down to the water - never actually landing, just swooping.
And signs of human life are starting to appear, someone walking a dog on the opposite bank, a fishing boat going out to sea, and on this side of the bank, more cars going past, and pedestrians passing.
Even in the time I’ve taken to write this, it looks like the tide is now slowly starting to go out, although without the drifting seagull to show direction it is difficult to be sure. But one thing is for sure, I will never get bored of the changing faces of the river.
Wednesday, 24 June 2009
Tuesday, 16 June 2009
A changeable day
It has been outstandingly nice weather recently - a friend here told me a while ago that when is it nice in Norfolk it is amazing, and I am coming to see what he means:) When I woke up and looked outside it looked another pretty day - some puffy white clouds around, which enhanced the blueness of the sky.
Outside my bedroom window are some wonderful red roses which have been making me smile for a few weeks, but the flowers right by my window need to be dead-headed, so I did that, watered the tomato plants and the planters. Then I came in and did some e-mails, whilst watching some fishing boats going out to sea - I’m still a city boy at heart, and it just thrills me to see this happening right outside my window!
I’m due into my part-time job at noon, so have a quick check of the weather forecast - it says for the next few hours that there is an 80% chance of thunderstorms - but right now it’s bright and sunny and heck - I can’t go out in a coat on a day like this!!! So after an early lunch, I set off to the store where I work, and get busy with my job.
During the afternoon, I happen to be going past the loading bay, which has the big doors open - and I just have to stop and stare - the rain is so hard that it is forming rivers across the parking lot, and the one poor person I see out there is absolutely drenched! Soon, three of us are standing there watching the rain, and we all say the same thing - we had seen the forecast, but ignored it, because, how often is it right!!!
During that afternoon people come in the store with their wet umbrellas for a while, but it seems to stop quite quickly, and by the time my shift is over at 5, it’s dry and bright again - but there are still dark clouds around. I stop to get just a few items of shopping, and then head out home - and as I walk the 10 minutes home, it gets darker and darker. I’m about 3 minutes from home when the first drops of rain start, and I jog the best I can with two shopping bags, and manage to make it indoors without getting too wet. And just in time, as the heavens open again - looking out from my window I can see the rain sleeting down, and hear the water hitting the conservatory, the windows, and my roof too. At the side of my cottage I look out over the roof of an adjoining property, and the water from their gutters looks like a tiny Niagara Falls. Once again the storm is severe, but short, and soon blows over.
That evening I’m due to go out to meet some folk, and I normally cycle there - but cycling in a storm is not my idea of fun - I’m just considering this when my friend phones and asks if I’d like a lift there, and I gratefully accept. My normal route there is through a wooded are, and I look down this path as we pass it - the trees are now dripping down the rain they collected, and it does not look like a pleasant place to cycle.
We don’t get any more rain that evening, and I walk home around 9. By now the ferocity of the storms has gone, and we are left with the pleasant coolness and invigorating freshness of that after the rain period. Walking along the wooded path is a wonderful lift to the spirits, and even the occasional drop of water from the leaves is reasonably pleasant. As I reach the river, and the view opens up, the sunset is really something, with streaks of cloud lit up in shades of red and orange, and the open horizon filling the heart with joy.
Outside my bedroom window are some wonderful red roses which have been making me smile for a few weeks, but the flowers right by my window need to be dead-headed, so I did that, watered the tomato plants and the planters. Then I came in and did some e-mails, whilst watching some fishing boats going out to sea - I’m still a city boy at heart, and it just thrills me to see this happening right outside my window!
I’m due into my part-time job at noon, so have a quick check of the weather forecast - it says for the next few hours that there is an 80% chance of thunderstorms - but right now it’s bright and sunny and heck - I can’t go out in a coat on a day like this!!! So after an early lunch, I set off to the store where I work, and get busy with my job.
During the afternoon, I happen to be going past the loading bay, which has the big doors open - and I just have to stop and stare - the rain is so hard that it is forming rivers across the parking lot, and the one poor person I see out there is absolutely drenched! Soon, three of us are standing there watching the rain, and we all say the same thing - we had seen the forecast, but ignored it, because, how often is it right!!!
During that afternoon people come in the store with their wet umbrellas for a while, but it seems to stop quite quickly, and by the time my shift is over at 5, it’s dry and bright again - but there are still dark clouds around. I stop to get just a few items of shopping, and then head out home - and as I walk the 10 minutes home, it gets darker and darker. I’m about 3 minutes from home when the first drops of rain start, and I jog the best I can with two shopping bags, and manage to make it indoors without getting too wet. And just in time, as the heavens open again - looking out from my window I can see the rain sleeting down, and hear the water hitting the conservatory, the windows, and my roof too. At the side of my cottage I look out over the roof of an adjoining property, and the water from their gutters looks like a tiny Niagara Falls. Once again the storm is severe, but short, and soon blows over.
That evening I’m due to go out to meet some folk, and I normally cycle there - but cycling in a storm is not my idea of fun - I’m just considering this when my friend phones and asks if I’d like a lift there, and I gratefully accept. My normal route there is through a wooded are, and I look down this path as we pass it - the trees are now dripping down the rain they collected, and it does not look like a pleasant place to cycle.
We don’t get any more rain that evening, and I walk home around 9. By now the ferocity of the storms has gone, and we are left with the pleasant coolness and invigorating freshness of that after the rain period. Walking along the wooded path is a wonderful lift to the spirits, and even the occasional drop of water from the leaves is reasonably pleasant. As I reach the river, and the view opens up, the sunset is really something, with streaks of cloud lit up in shades of red and orange, and the open horizon filling the heart with joy.
Saturday, 13 June 2009
Into the marsh
It was another bright and sunny early morning, just right for one of my bike rides. I’m not an experienced bike rider yet, and I’ve avoided riding through Tuesday Market Place for that reason, but as it’s 6am, I think that this would be a good time to try that route, and then I can head out along the path that goes down stream, and see where that goes.
Starting out I cycle along the Quay, and into King Street, and then across Tuesday Market, past the “pre-used” furniture store, and turn left by the docks. King’s Lynn still has a working dock, albeit a small one now compared to historic times, and it seems that the main product coming through is wood, with lots of stacks of different coloured planks visible over the fences. Also along here is a quay with fishing boats anchored - as it’s low tide these are currently in the mud, but I know from my part of the river that at high tide they will be riding high in the water.
Leaving the docks behind, I take the road alongside the river, which takes me past a few houses and a factory, before moving slightly inland. Here there is a hedge of trees to the river side, and then farm land stretching away to my right. As I pedal along the road becomes more rutted and uneven, and I cycle back and forth across the road looking for the smoothest line. Soon the field on my left gives way to a wooded area, and the path comes back up onto the river bank. It feels really like wild countryside out here, so I’m surprised to see a sign saying “Please drive carefully - free range animals and children ahead”, and then to come across two houses set in the among the trees!
By now the bank is noticeably high, with the river to one side, and the cultivation and wood land giving way to marsh land to the other. From up here the horizon seems to go on forever and it is difficult to judge where the water ends and the sky starts. Soon I come to a smaller path that goes down into the marsh, so I decide to take that, stopping first to read the sign. This marsh and the sandbanks that it leads to are an important area for migrating birds, and is a protected nature reserve. This piece of path takes me down to an observation deck, and even though it’s just a path, barely wide enough for my bike, I decide to ride down it, as I’ve not seen anyone else around all the time. The path gets really narrow, with shrub each side and I have to keep going as there is no room to turn around.
After a short while, the path turns right and the observation deck is there - a wooden platform just a couple of feet above the flat salt marsh leading a few yards to a couple of observation areas. It is still wet from the morning dew, or maybe from high tide water and I am a bit dubious about cycling across this, but decide to anyway. Half way along I stop to read a sign about the plant life here - it’s an area of land that is regularly covered with salt water, so the plant life has to be able to cope with that extreme environment. Then I start off for the end of the deck. At this point I discover that my initial caution may not have been misguided, as my tires slip, and I have to swerve to retain balance, only, the deck is not wide enough to swerve, and I end up falling into the marsh! I guess if one has to fall off a bike, falling into a soft salt marsh, at low tide, is one of the best places to do it, and only my pride is hurt!!
So I climb back onto the deck, pulling my bike behind me, and WALK to the end, and then walk back, till I’m on dry land again, then cycle back to the main path along the river. Up to this point the road has been potholed and rough, but at least it was a road - now the road surface ends entirely, and the path ahead is just a mud track on top of the dyke, and so really uneven. It is slow and hard going as I bounce along. I pass some sort of tower, with equipment on top - I take it this is a meteorological station of some sort, and then the path stops altogether as a smaller stream joins the main river. I get off the bike, and walk down to where the grass gives way to mudflats, down to the top of the high tide zone I guess, and here in the mud are all sorts of animal tracks - mainly the webbed feet of different birds, but also some paw prints. Once again I am shown my own ignorance of animal life, as I have little idea what all these are, but even so I am enraptured by the beauty of it all, and just stand and be for a while.
After a time I climb back up to the path, and retrace my route along out of the marsh to the farm land and then the docks, and emerge back near the centre of town. I’ve been out less than an hour, and so rather than go back home, I take the road out of town. Had it been later, I don’t think I would have followed this route, as it’s a busy road, with lots of trucks and cars leaving their fumes behind, but today it is really quiet, and fairly pleasant to cycle along. Soon I am out of King’s Lynn and into South Wotton, and I pick up a cycle path to Sandringham, which allows me to ride off of the main road.
I follow the path as it takes me across the main road, and then out to side roads as it goes to North Wotton. Here the village is starting to wake up, and I pass a number of people out walking their dogs, or strolling with children, and everyone says good morning - the real sign of a village community. The cycle path varies between village streets, paths between buildings, and then out across Ling Common. This is as far as I want to go today, so I stop for a few moments and admire the pyramid here. I also wonder why a pyramid - reading the sign I see that it was erected to celebrate the millennium, with funds raised from the village.
Then I start out back the way I came until I see a sign that takes this cycle path to Lynn, but a different way than I came. So I take this, and it is a neat path that runs through countryside to a sports centre. It then runs across a road and I’m not too sure at this point exactly where I am, until it gets to a wooded path that runs alongside the railway, and I begin to get my bearings again. Soon enough we get to a railway crossing, and there are The Walks, so I no longer need to read the signs as this is my home territory.
I’m soon cycling along the river again and then back to my cottage - a round trip of a couple of hours, and it’s still only 8 in the morning! What a great way to start the day, experiencing the wide open wild flat lands, the river, villages and even an impromptu dive into the marsh. Who could ask for more?
Starting out I cycle along the Quay, and into King Street, and then across Tuesday Market, past the “pre-used” furniture store, and turn left by the docks. King’s Lynn still has a working dock, albeit a small one now compared to historic times, and it seems that the main product coming through is wood, with lots of stacks of different coloured planks visible over the fences. Also along here is a quay with fishing boats anchored - as it’s low tide these are currently in the mud, but I know from my part of the river that at high tide they will be riding high in the water.
Leaving the docks behind, I take the road alongside the river, which takes me past a few houses and a factory, before moving slightly inland. Here there is a hedge of trees to the river side, and then farm land stretching away to my right. As I pedal along the road becomes more rutted and uneven, and I cycle back and forth across the road looking for the smoothest line. Soon the field on my left gives way to a wooded area, and the path comes back up onto the river bank. It feels really like wild countryside out here, so I’m surprised to see a sign saying “Please drive carefully - free range animals and children ahead”, and then to come across two houses set in the among the trees!
By now the bank is noticeably high, with the river to one side, and the cultivation and wood land giving way to marsh land to the other. From up here the horizon seems to go on forever and it is difficult to judge where the water ends and the sky starts. Soon I come to a smaller path that goes down into the marsh, so I decide to take that, stopping first to read the sign. This marsh and the sandbanks that it leads to are an important area for migrating birds, and is a protected nature reserve. This piece of path takes me down to an observation deck, and even though it’s just a path, barely wide enough for my bike, I decide to ride down it, as I’ve not seen anyone else around all the time. The path gets really narrow, with shrub each side and I have to keep going as there is no room to turn around.
After a short while, the path turns right and the observation deck is there - a wooden platform just a couple of feet above the flat salt marsh leading a few yards to a couple of observation areas. It is still wet from the morning dew, or maybe from high tide water and I am a bit dubious about cycling across this, but decide to anyway. Half way along I stop to read a sign about the plant life here - it’s an area of land that is regularly covered with salt water, so the plant life has to be able to cope with that extreme environment. Then I start off for the end of the deck. At this point I discover that my initial caution may not have been misguided, as my tires slip, and I have to swerve to retain balance, only, the deck is not wide enough to swerve, and I end up falling into the marsh! I guess if one has to fall off a bike, falling into a soft salt marsh, at low tide, is one of the best places to do it, and only my pride is hurt!!
So I climb back onto the deck, pulling my bike behind me, and WALK to the end, and then walk back, till I’m on dry land again, then cycle back to the main path along the river. Up to this point the road has been potholed and rough, but at least it was a road - now the road surface ends entirely, and the path ahead is just a mud track on top of the dyke, and so really uneven. It is slow and hard going as I bounce along. I pass some sort of tower, with equipment on top - I take it this is a meteorological station of some sort, and then the path stops altogether as a smaller stream joins the main river. I get off the bike, and walk down to where the grass gives way to mudflats, down to the top of the high tide zone I guess, and here in the mud are all sorts of animal tracks - mainly the webbed feet of different birds, but also some paw prints. Once again I am shown my own ignorance of animal life, as I have little idea what all these are, but even so I am enraptured by the beauty of it all, and just stand and be for a while.
After a time I climb back up to the path, and retrace my route along out of the marsh to the farm land and then the docks, and emerge back near the centre of town. I’ve been out less than an hour, and so rather than go back home, I take the road out of town. Had it been later, I don’t think I would have followed this route, as it’s a busy road, with lots of trucks and cars leaving their fumes behind, but today it is really quiet, and fairly pleasant to cycle along. Soon I am out of King’s Lynn and into South Wotton, and I pick up a cycle path to Sandringham, which allows me to ride off of the main road.
I follow the path as it takes me across the main road, and then out to side roads as it goes to North Wotton. Here the village is starting to wake up, and I pass a number of people out walking their dogs, or strolling with children, and everyone says good morning - the real sign of a village community. The cycle path varies between village streets, paths between buildings, and then out across Ling Common. This is as far as I want to go today, so I stop for a few moments and admire the pyramid here. I also wonder why a pyramid - reading the sign I see that it was erected to celebrate the millennium, with funds raised from the village.
Then I start out back the way I came until I see a sign that takes this cycle path to Lynn, but a different way than I came. So I take this, and it is a neat path that runs through countryside to a sports centre. It then runs across a road and I’m not too sure at this point exactly where I am, until it gets to a wooded path that runs alongside the railway, and I begin to get my bearings again. Soon enough we get to a railway crossing, and there are The Walks, so I no longer need to read the signs as this is my home territory.
I’m soon cycling along the river again and then back to my cottage - a round trip of a couple of hours, and it’s still only 8 in the morning! What a great way to start the day, experiencing the wide open wild flat lands, the river, villages and even an impromptu dive into the marsh. Who could ask for more?
Monday, 8 June 2009
Sunny Hunny
It is a Sunday and promises gloriously sunny weather, so I decide to head out to Hunstanton for the day.
There is a direct bus from King’s Lynn that runs once an hour, and I turn up at the bus garage 10 minutes early, and there are already a few people waiting, including a family with 3 small children, who are getting increasingly excited as we wait! The bus arrives and the excitement is too much - one of the youngsters squirms away and jumps aboard the bus in front of everyone else. The ride is mostly uneventful, but we do get into a traffic jam as we approach the town, and are delayed by about 20 minutes. As we get closer to the centre, I notice the big parking lot next to the fun fair - and remember my trip here a few weeks ago when it was cold and damp, and there were only 4 cars in the lot, and a duck and ducklings wondering around. Today I’m hoping the duck found a quieter place to be, as the lot is nearly full, and it’s only 10 o’clock!
Getting off the bus, I’m reminded that the tourist board call this Sunny Hunny - and it IS gloriously sunny, and the sky and the sea are amazingly blue. But. It is still windy! I’m just wearing shorts and a tee shirt, and feel momentarily cool - but not for long as I start to mingle with the crowds that head out for the beach.
Hunstanton used to have a pier - this went into disrepair and suffered from a fire some time ago, but where it used to be is a building with amusements and really looking like it should have a pier attached to it! Nearing this I see lots of motor bike - I mean A LOT of them - many people in biker leathers sitting in the sun and mingling with the crowd of day trippers. Walking past these I start off along the promenade - and this has a real “English seaside” feel to it - lots of stalls selling seafood, ice creams and candy floss, hot dogs and coffee, and the inevitable gift shops with cheap souvenirs and buckets and spades - and sun screen and wind breaks, both of which are selling well! On the beach, they even have an area of pony rides, something I’ve not seen for years!
Walking along I see an amphibious vehicle near the beach, and tracks in the sand looking like it comes and goes - oh wow! a “duck tour”!! Yes indeed, they use these old WW2 landing craft for tours, and there is a tour of the Wash due to start in 15 minutes, so I buy a ticket and wait. Soon I see the craft out in the water coming closer - the “Wash Monster”. It comes right up to the promenade, and the front opens down to allow passengers to just walk straight off the craft onto shore.
We soon board and are off for our tour - just a 30 minute ride - that drives for a long way, before it has to engage its propeller and become a craft. Its crew give the appearance of older generation “sea dog” types, and it’s quite odd to see one doing the “the exits are this way” hand signals which one normally see airline stewardesses doing! This trip takes us down to Old Hunstanton, and gives us a great view of the cliffs, which are pretty amazing with a white top part, and then a very clear divide line to dark reds below. We also get a view of a much newer structure - the big turbines that are the entrance to the wash, harvesting some of the wind - at last! A good use for it!
Returning back to land, I start to walk back the way I came, and along the shore line towards the cliffs. As I go I see that the tide is going out and that more and more sand is becoming visible, as well as some of the sandbanks that are a feature of this area of coast. Looking back, I see the Wash Monster has started on a new cruise, this time out to the sandbanks, where people can get out and walk in the middle of the sea!
Eventually the promenade gives way to a normal road, and then I go down onto the beach itself - and my sandals come off so I can feel the cool sand between my toes. In this part of the beach there are moss covered rocks at low tide with tiny pools between them, before you get to the sand and then - eventually - the sea. This is a great area for adventurous young children, and the air is filled with excited squeals as another 5 year old comes face to face with a live crab for the first time. They may only be tiny crabs, but they are alive and move, and I just have to smile at the excitement they cause. I walk way out to the sea, crossing areas of sand that are alternatively dry and wet - you can really see how the sandbanks develop, and how people can get cut off on the sand banks from time to time.
I climb back onto the path, dry my feet as best I can and put my sandals back on, and start looking for somewhere to have lunch. I can see a café on the cliff above me, and a path there, so I climb this, and although it looks like a nice place, and has a decent menu, I’d have to be indoors, and it’s much too nice for that, so I start down the path back to the town. There are a couple of other places that look OK, but I decide that what I really want is a picnic, so in the end I go into a supermarket and buy a ready made meal and a drink, and come back out onto the grass above the “pier”, and sit there to have my late lunch.
This is blissful - sunny, warm and relaxing, and when I finish eating I just lie there and watch the bikers, the people playing ball, and the sea gulls swoop and glide in the breeze. After a while I realise that I’m actually getting too hot, and maybe a bit sun-burned, so I spend a while looking round the souvenir shops, before heading back to the bus station to get the bus back to Lynn. It’s quite late arriving, and I’m really hot and bothered by the time it arrives, and then it is further delayed by an “incident” on the main road back home - but I sit and doze on and off and watch the countryside go past, and get home eventually.
Hunstanton is a fun place for a day out - and I’d like to go and watch the sun set into the sea one day, which is not something you can often do from an east coast resort!
NOTES OF EXPLANATION.
Hunstanton is on a piece of water called “The Wash”, which feeds into the North Sea. The Wash appears like a large indentation in the coastline of the map of eastern England, it’s formed by a large bay with three roughly straight sides meeting at right angles, each about 15 miles (25 kilometres) long. It has a long sandy beach which is very flat, so when the tide goes out it goes out a LONG way. One interesting geographical thing about Hunstanton is that, although it’s on the east coast, because of the curve of The Wash, it actually faces west! For anyone interested, here is the Wiki listing for The Wash: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Wash
Friday, 15 May 2009
Morning has broken.
A couple of days ago I was awake for no obvious reason around 4am, and noticed that the sky was already getting bright. By 5 it was looking so nice outside that I decided to jump out of bed, throw on some clothes, and go for a dawn bike ride.
I start out along South Quay, and the tide is low - very low and at a bend in the river the mud flats are covered with sea birds. I take the loop around Boal Quay, and then am back on the cycle path that runs along the Great Ouse. The sun is barely over the horizon and I peddle vigorously to get warm, and soon I’m out under the main road - already busy with commuter traffic - and slow down as I see a pheasant on the path ahead! I’ve never seen pheasants on this path, but I assume they are in the fields around. Soon the cycle path leaves the river and goes onto a track through farm land with hedges on both sides and I slow and stop to watch rabbits hop away, flashing their white tails at me as they do, and more pheasants in their bright feathers. Out here it is peaceful, majestic and wonderful - and I can even ignore the paper mill they are building behind me, and look out over the fields instead.
I get to the end of this lane, and the cycle route now goes out onto the country roads. Normally I’ll take this back, but I don’t want to lose the freedom that I feel right now, and having to be conscience of traffic would do that, so I just turn my bike and go back the way I came. I am new again to biking after maybe 30 years, and still a bit cautious and there are these barriers that are, I assume, meant to stop cars coming down the cycle path - they are about 6 feet tall, wide at the bottom and suddenly narrowing towards the top, they look like an inverted wine glass shape. They are about handlebar width plus 6 inches, and I've never felt confident about riding through them, so have always got off the bike, walked through, and then got back on again. Well, this morning I decide it’s time to face that fear, and so I rode through them! I have to really concentrate to get it right, but I am getting there. In all I was out for about an hour and was really warm and sweaty by the time I got back home, I laid back down but couldn't go back to sleep, which meant I was really tired when I went into work at 2pm!!
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This morning I sleep later, and when I wake heard a noise that I couldn’t immediately identify, and then I realised it was rain drops on my window. I put on my robe and go out into the conservatory - this is one amazing morning!! There is no wind and the rain is just a gentle falling of water - it reminds me of a hymn we used to sing “soft, refreshing rain”. The conservatory is all glass, and the sound of the rain on the roof is just the sweetest soft sighing. My little pond and bird bath are getting a nice fresh re-fill too, without my intervention for once. I notice that I’ve left the door of my shed open a bit, so go out to shut it - my feet get wet, but the rain on my head really is soft and refreshing!
Coming back in I stand in the conservatory just “being” for a while, and think I must have got wetter than I thought, as rain drips from my hair onto my back. Then it happens again, and I realise it’s not me, it actually is dripping in here. There are just a few drops of rain coming from the central point where the sloping glass panels meet. It’s not much, and I put a couple of pails down to catch the water - it’s certainly not enough to spoil this soft and refreshing morning.
As I sit here now at my desk looking out over the river it looks like the rain is easing off, and from a practical perspective this is good because I need to go out to work later. But the feeling, scent and sound of this mornings soft refreshing rain will stay with me, I hope, as I get into the practicalities of the day.
I start out along South Quay, and the tide is low - very low and at a bend in the river the mud flats are covered with sea birds. I take the loop around Boal Quay, and then am back on the cycle path that runs along the Great Ouse. The sun is barely over the horizon and I peddle vigorously to get warm, and soon I’m out under the main road - already busy with commuter traffic - and slow down as I see a pheasant on the path ahead! I’ve never seen pheasants on this path, but I assume they are in the fields around. Soon the cycle path leaves the river and goes onto a track through farm land with hedges on both sides and I slow and stop to watch rabbits hop away, flashing their white tails at me as they do, and more pheasants in their bright feathers. Out here it is peaceful, majestic and wonderful - and I can even ignore the paper mill they are building behind me, and look out over the fields instead.
I get to the end of this lane, and the cycle route now goes out onto the country roads. Normally I’ll take this back, but I don’t want to lose the freedom that I feel right now, and having to be conscience of traffic would do that, so I just turn my bike and go back the way I came. I am new again to biking after maybe 30 years, and still a bit cautious and there are these barriers that are, I assume, meant to stop cars coming down the cycle path - they are about 6 feet tall, wide at the bottom and suddenly narrowing towards the top, they look like an inverted wine glass shape. They are about handlebar width plus 6 inches, and I've never felt confident about riding through them, so have always got off the bike, walked through, and then got back on again. Well, this morning I decide it’s time to face that fear, and so I rode through them! I have to really concentrate to get it right, but I am getting there. In all I was out for about an hour and was really warm and sweaty by the time I got back home, I laid back down but couldn't go back to sleep, which meant I was really tired when I went into work at 2pm!!
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This morning I sleep later, and when I wake heard a noise that I couldn’t immediately identify, and then I realised it was rain drops on my window. I put on my robe and go out into the conservatory - this is one amazing morning!! There is no wind and the rain is just a gentle falling of water - it reminds me of a hymn we used to sing “soft, refreshing rain”. The conservatory is all glass, and the sound of the rain on the roof is just the sweetest soft sighing. My little pond and bird bath are getting a nice fresh re-fill too, without my intervention for once. I notice that I’ve left the door of my shed open a bit, so go out to shut it - my feet get wet, but the rain on my head really is soft and refreshing!
Coming back in I stand in the conservatory just “being” for a while, and think I must have got wetter than I thought, as rain drips from my hair onto my back. Then it happens again, and I realise it’s not me, it actually is dripping in here. There are just a few drops of rain coming from the central point where the sloping glass panels meet. It’s not much, and I put a couple of pails down to catch the water - it’s certainly not enough to spoil this soft and refreshing morning.
As I sit here now at my desk looking out over the river it looks like the rain is easing off, and from a practical perspective this is good because I need to go out to work later. But the feeling, scent and sound of this mornings soft refreshing rain will stay with me, I hope, as I get into the practicalities of the day.
Friday, 8 May 2009
Norfolk Road trip (2)
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A new day and a new trip with no plans other than to explore! I start off along the small country roads and start to “collect” village signs - it seems that every village here has an ornate sign with its name on, usually in the middle of the village next to the green and the village pub. Norfolk is known to be a very flat county, and although it doesn’t have anything much approaching hills, the land does rise and fall, and as one gets to the top of a rise you can suddenly see the sea sparkling in the distance.
By following where I see the water is, I come to a tiny place called Bancaster Stythe and take the beach road. Driving down this I first see a sign warning that the road is liable to “tidal flooding”. As I drive the road is wet and there are pools of water - I have my windows open and you can smell the salt water - yes, it really must just flood each high tide! Getting to the end of the road there is a private area for a sailing club, one building, and a public car park. There is an attendant there taking money for parking, so I decide to just turn around and splash my way back out again - my pretty black car is getting dirty!!
Driving along the coast road I come to Burnham Deepdale, and spot somewhere that looks like a nice place for breakfast on this Sunday morning. One of the issues I have with this part of the world is that there seems to be few places open for breakfast, but this looks a nice place, and so it proves to be, with lots of people sitting both in the restaurant and outside in the sun. I sit at a table outside and have coffee, then use the bathroom and move on.
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One of the interesting things about the country roads around here is that a lot of them are really straight - down in the south east where I’m from roads like this tend to snake in and out and around fields, but here they can just seem to disappear into the distance, and with the horizon that goes on forever and the different land uses as I drive, I am presented with one stunning view after another.
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After a while I follow a sign to the Sculthorpe Moor Nature Reserve. Now, I’m not a “twitcher” but being in this area with its migrating birds does make me want to learn more, and I even invested in a pair of binoculars - so I hang these round my neck and go to the entrance of the reserve, which is through the visitors centre. Here I met a volunteer greater - Chris - and he tells me a bit about the place, gives me a map, and generally makes me feel welcome.
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The reserve is actually quite small, but very well organised for visitors, with walk-ways over the marsh land, seating and hides where one can observe the wildlife without disturbing it. The riverside path is closed because of nesting birds, but Chris tells me that they have heard their first cuckoo of the season, although I don’t hear it. As I walk round I meet others on the path, and without exception they say hello - I guess it’s the community of bird watchers! This is a very interesting place, and it’s on a bus route from Lynn, so I’m planning on coming back during the summer.
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Driving on I pass a number of the dykes which keep this part of the country from being marsh land, and then to the bank of the Great Ouse - out here there are often small communities of two or three houses in the middle of a field, and I wonder how they survive out here. One such “community” of 2 houses has a sign advising that it is “Neighbourhood Watch Area” - well, with just two houses, I guess you could watch the neighbours!
The clouds are getting darker and I can see a storm in the distance, and as I drive on it starts to rain - and I discover that the rental has automatic wipers! I’ve never driven a car with these before, and have always thought them pretty pointless, but actually, I’m now converted, and want them in my next car! We have quite a downpour, and as I drive I hope this is cleaning the car some!
I stop one more time at a Frankie and Benny’s for a late lunch, and am entertained by a table celebrating two birthdays - so the lights are darkened, and we sing “Happy Birthday to you” whilst the waiters bring out a cake - twice! Back home I realise I’ve driven about 100 miles today - in some ways it hardly seems like I’ve been any distance, but I’ve seen so many villages, and so many horizons that I guess I must have.
Wednesday, 6 May 2009
Norfolk Road Trip (1)
I don’t currently own a car, so I thought I’d rent one for a few days to get out and about. I collected the car last Friday morning, and the first nice experience - it’s a shiny black dead sexy Fiesta Zetec - and just been delivered to them, so I’m the first driver!
My first trip is back to my house and to collect my GPS and my diet cokes, and off to get gas as the tank’s on empty. It’s a bright sunny day, and I open the windows and turn on the radio as I start off down the main road to Norwich, - this is as good as it gets short of having a convertible!! On a whim I turn off at a sign to Pentney Lakes, a quiet country road, so I turn off the radio and drive slower and listen to the sound of the country. And also the smells of the country, which range from sweet to - how shall I put this - agricultural!
I’m soon at Pentney - a new community of log cabins around a lake. There are still plots for sale with planning permission to build your own cabin, and that would be a nice place to spend a long warm summer. Driving past the community, I get better views of the lake and the birds that live there, and see that they actually spill out not just onto the adjacent field, but onto the neighbouring farmer’s fields. Whilst stopping to look at this, I see what appears to be a bit of a building stuck in the middle of a field - except it’s more like a pillar than anything. But there is no sign and no one to ask so I just take a photo and move on.
As I drive I use my GPS to take me the “shortest routes” - I know that this means I get to use the tiny country roads, and that is exactly what I want! At other times I turn the GPS off and just drive - the fields around here are full of pheasants, and from the amount of road kill one sees, they are also very accident prone. I’m a city boy - and I get excited about seeing real wildlife just being there, so I keep slowing to watch the pheasants and rabbits I pass - and the one dear I spot in the distance!! After a while I get used to the single track, two way roads I'm driving on, and don’t panic when I spot a car coming in the opposite direction, although I do get concerned when it’s an enormous farm tractor - will they actually see me in my tiny car!
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It’s now lunchtime, so I ask my GPS where there is a restaurant - it takes me to where is says a Little Chef is - only it’s a field!! However, just down the road is a place called “Hollywood Legends” - and how could I resist with a name like that:) It’s a reasonable place, and next to it is the Legends Car Wash. As I sit down and order, a lady arrives and goes looking to have her car washed - only the worker there is in the restaurant about to have his lunch! In a typical friendly Norfolk way, he says he will leave lunch till later, and the lady says for him to finish.
Lunch over, I set out for the coast, again using the small roads and getting really into the rural heart of Norfolk - mile after mile of straight (but tiny) roads through farm land, and the occasional village of just a few cottages with its village sign, and normally a pub and maybe a store too. Some of the places I drive through are probably too small even to be called a village, just 20 or so houses clustered round the road.
Soon I come to Hunstanton, which is quite a popular seaside resort in these parts - and an interesting one for the east coast; because of the way the coastline works, Hunstanton actually looks out west over the water!! It’s not really high season yet, and I drive into the huge parking lot near the amusement rides and there are only 5 other cars here - along with a duck and her ducklings waddling along the road. I stop here just to use the toilet, then drive on further along to Hunstanton Cliff, and park there.
We are on The Wash here - a strip of water from the North Sea that creates what is almost like a mini sea of its own, and here at low tide the sand goes on for miles. I change out of my jeans and driving shoes into shorts and sandals, and walk out the long way to where the sea is, and one can see why this area can be dangerous - as the tide comes in it will cover these flat areas of sand really quickly, and cut people off surrounded by water.
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I spend about an hour on this bit of beach - walking and then just sitting in the sand dunes enjoying the sounds and smells, and the sun on my body. But then I get the urge to move on, so I get back in the car to drive some more - but as it turns out, not far. I follow a sign saying “old Hunstanton” and get to another part of the same beach. Here, however, there are many more sand dunes, with lots of beach huts in and among them.
Beach huts always appeal to me; I’ve never been in one, but they seem to encapsulate the essence of the old fashioned British seaside holiday. No water, no plumbing, no electricity, you’re not allowed to sleep in them overnight, and they are shut up all winter. But a “home away from home” by the sea, somewhere to sit and make a cup of tea on the gas stove you keep there. Or to hide from the rain when we’re on the beach coz it’s a holiday and we WILL enjoy it, whatever the climate thinks! On other beaches these huts are in solid straight lines along the promenade, but these are more random - they are dotted among the dunes and are raised up on stilts, maybe to avoid flooding, maybe to give them a better view?
Getting back to the car, and trying to keep most of the sand outside, I set off again along the coast road to Holm and Holm Dunes nature reserve. Once again I park and set out to walk - and here we need to cross a golf course to get to the dunes. There are signs up to show you where to look, and netting to “hide” behind when they are playing. If Hunstanton showed one face of the British Holiday tradition, here at Holms Dunes we come across another sort of vacation, because it’s along the Norfolk Coast Path, and hikers can be seen even this early in the year walking the 50 miles from Hunstanton to Cromer.
But not for me, for today - I walk out along the wild dunes and out onto the sand flats - no Amusement parks or beach huts here - just the open sea and the dunes. It is a glorious day, sunny, and the sounds of birds carried by the wind. The sort of place that makes you want to just stop the world, and take some quiet time.
My first trip is back to my house and to collect my GPS and my diet cokes, and off to get gas as the tank’s on empty. It’s a bright sunny day, and I open the windows and turn on the radio as I start off down the main road to Norwich, - this is as good as it gets short of having a convertible!! On a whim I turn off at a sign to Pentney Lakes, a quiet country road, so I turn off the radio and drive slower and listen to the sound of the country. And also the smells of the country, which range from sweet to - how shall I put this - agricultural!
I’m soon at Pentney - a new community of log cabins around a lake. There are still plots for sale with planning permission to build your own cabin, and that would be a nice place to spend a long warm summer. Driving past the community, I get better views of the lake and the birds that live there, and see that they actually spill out not just onto the adjacent field, but onto the neighbouring farmer’s fields. Whilst stopping to look at this, I see what appears to be a bit of a building stuck in the middle of a field - except it’s more like a pillar than anything. But there is no sign and no one to ask so I just take a photo and move on.
As I drive I use my GPS to take me the “shortest routes” - I know that this means I get to use the tiny country roads, and that is exactly what I want! At other times I turn the GPS off and just drive - the fields around here are full of pheasants, and from the amount of road kill one sees, they are also very accident prone. I’m a city boy - and I get excited about seeing real wildlife just being there, so I keep slowing to watch the pheasants and rabbits I pass - and the one dear I spot in the distance!! After a while I get used to the single track, two way roads I'm driving on, and don’t panic when I spot a car coming in the opposite direction, although I do get concerned when it’s an enormous farm tractor - will they actually see me in my tiny car!
+Road+(2).JPG)
It’s now lunchtime, so I ask my GPS where there is a restaurant - it takes me to where is says a Little Chef is - only it’s a field!! However, just down the road is a place called “Hollywood Legends” - and how could I resist with a name like that:) It’s a reasonable place, and next to it is the Legends Car Wash. As I sit down and order, a lady arrives and goes looking to have her car washed - only the worker there is in the restaurant about to have his lunch! In a typical friendly Norfolk way, he says he will leave lunch till later, and the lady says for him to finish.
Lunch over, I set out for the coast, again using the small roads and getting really into the rural heart of Norfolk - mile after mile of straight (but tiny) roads through farm land, and the occasional village of just a few cottages with its village sign, and normally a pub and maybe a store too. Some of the places I drive through are probably too small even to be called a village, just 20 or so houses clustered round the road.
Soon I come to Hunstanton, which is quite a popular seaside resort in these parts - and an interesting one for the east coast; because of the way the coastline works, Hunstanton actually looks out west over the water!! It’s not really high season yet, and I drive into the huge parking lot near the amusement rides and there are only 5 other cars here - along with a duck and her ducklings waddling along the road. I stop here just to use the toilet, then drive on further along to Hunstanton Cliff, and park there.
We are on The Wash here - a strip of water from the North Sea that creates what is almost like a mini sea of its own, and here at low tide the sand goes on for miles. I change out of my jeans and driving shoes into shorts and sandals, and walk out the long way to where the sea is, and one can see why this area can be dangerous - as the tide comes in it will cover these flat areas of sand really quickly, and cut people off surrounded by water.
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I spend about an hour on this bit of beach - walking and then just sitting in the sand dunes enjoying the sounds and smells, and the sun on my body. But then I get the urge to move on, so I get back in the car to drive some more - but as it turns out, not far. I follow a sign saying “old Hunstanton” and get to another part of the same beach. Here, however, there are many more sand dunes, with lots of beach huts in and among them.
Beach huts always appeal to me; I’ve never been in one, but they seem to encapsulate the essence of the old fashioned British seaside holiday. No water, no plumbing, no electricity, you’re not allowed to sleep in them overnight, and they are shut up all winter. But a “home away from home” by the sea, somewhere to sit and make a cup of tea on the gas stove you keep there. Or to hide from the rain when we’re on the beach coz it’s a holiday and we WILL enjoy it, whatever the climate thinks! On other beaches these huts are in solid straight lines along the promenade, but these are more random - they are dotted among the dunes and are raised up on stilts, maybe to avoid flooding, maybe to give them a better view?
Getting back to the car, and trying to keep most of the sand outside, I set off again along the coast road to Holm and Holm Dunes nature reserve. Once again I park and set out to walk - and here we need to cross a golf course to get to the dunes. There are signs up to show you where to look, and netting to “hide” behind when they are playing. If Hunstanton showed one face of the British Holiday tradition, here at Holms Dunes we come across another sort of vacation, because it’s along the Norfolk Coast Path, and hikers can be seen even this early in the year walking the 50 miles from Hunstanton to Cromer.
But not for me, for today - I walk out along the wild dunes and out onto the sand flats - no Amusement parks or beach huts here - just the open sea and the dunes. It is a glorious day, sunny, and the sounds of birds carried by the wind. The sort of place that makes you want to just stop the world, and take some quiet time.
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