A Perfect late summer day and the opportunity to get back out on the Norfolk coast. The plan to cover the 16 miles from Wells-next-the-Sea to Weybourne which will join up the sections of the path I’ve already covered.
I struggle with the start of any walk, it’s definitely type 2 fun. Why exacty am I attempting to walk 16 miles in order to mentally tick off a footpath? *Shrugs*
The first mile always a challenge until you settle into the rhythm of walking and that devil that permanently lives on my shoulder often needs putting in its place. On this occasion it’s especially difficult to get going (Much like this blog post…). The family drop me off in one of my favourite seaside towns. Wells-next-the-Sea is a truly delightful town, a diverse place full of character and charm. Home to a charming arcade (and I hate arcades!) which has only a hint of tacky and you can still find the arcade game Spider Stomp. I bloody love stomping spiders.
So it seems pretty hard to leave your favourite town without an overpriced coffee or harming a single spider. Brutal.
In a bid to distract myself I open Pokemon Go. Don’t mock, I’m a master. I tempt myself through the town one virtual monster at a time.
It also doesn’t help that I’m hungry. I need to do a food shop (permanent state of life) and the food situation has reached weird combinations stage. In desperation I’ve only had Weetos for breakfast, fine for an eternally grazing 8 year old, less so as fuel for a long walk.
*Drags self past yet another delightfully quirky coffee shop.*
I need a new distraction so fire up my Geocaching app. A geocache on the outskirts of town might just be enough to tempt me away, farewell my pretty.
A none too exciting cache but it’s succeeded in getting me on my way. I leave the harbour bustling with tourists and head towards salt marsh territory. This will pretty much be my landscape for the day. Mile after mile of it. Great if you like Samphire. Mmmm Samphire. Did I mention I was hungry?
Thankfully the conditions are dry, marsh walking is not so much fun when it’s soggy.
After a trek through the marsh I spy picnic benches at Morston Quay and decide to give into the hunger and have an early lunch, stale roll and samphire anyone?
To my glee though I spot a kiosk. A coffee kiosk. A moment of excitement, cake too. Result!
A closer inspection however reveals a cake imposter. Cheese and onion focaccia muffins.
Cheese and onion bread cake? Whaaaat?
I decide to stick to my stale roll and wotsits.
Feeling a bit more wired for some coffee I head off towards Blakeney and a brief change of scenery.
Another enchanting village, once a busy medieval port. After the monotony of salt marsh and samphire I’m pleased for a brief urban detour and decide to grab a cache before inevitably heading back out onto the marsh.
The cache *should* be a quick cache and dash, just a nano on a road sign – the type I’d usually ignore.
However it’s quite a tall road sign.
And I’m quite a short person.
It’s surely possible to jump discreetly in the street right? It doesn’t look too odd…?
Hmm maybe not.
I look around for a stick or a tall person to flutter my eyelashes at…
A stick it is then.
Result! I can now reach the cache. The magnet however is so blooming strong that every time I try and flick it from the sign it pings between the back and front of the sign like some perverse game of ping-pong. That I’m playing way above my head, with a stick, in public, whilst live tweeting the match.
Nope, I don’t look weird at all.
I’m a stubborn thing though and this flipping (literally) cache is sodding well going to be signed.
One more determined leap and glory is mine. I manage to keep the woop and air punch in, but just in case anyone is watching (in horror) a small curtsey is never a bad thing. 😉
Anyway enough nonsense. It’s time to head back to the marsh.
A considerable detour for a tidal creek brings me to Cley next the Sea. More quaint, quirky, seaside loveliness. It’s a flying visit though, must dash. Although I do take a moment to admire the bunting clad windmill though. So Insta ready.
Finally I can bypass the marshes. Trade it for beach walking.
Shingle beach walking.
4 miles of it. I’m guaranteed to wake up looking like a Kardashian. Hmm ok, maybe J-Lo – just don’t be fooled by the rock hard glutes that I’ve got.
A poignant stop along the beach for another cache search. An ammo can placed to pay tribute to four members of the USAF who tragically lost their lives here when a bird strike took down their helicopter on a training mission. I’ve always eyed this cache with some suspicion, wondering if maybe it was a bit ghoulish. However having found it, it seems a fitting tribute and offers the chance to stop and think about those who lost their lives. A memorial has been erected here in the past but has now been sadly lost under the shingle.
The coast is littered with signs of wartime history and I pass numerous pillboxes.
One has a cache hidden at it. My treasure hidden down a rabbit hole. Unfortunately though no tempting cake with an ‘Eat me.’ label attached.
Shame. I’m still ravenous and I certainly could have done with growing a bit bigger after my earlier caching debacle.
More excitement as I approach a hill. Yep, a hill in Norfolk. Such a rare thing it deserves a sign.
Gramborough Hill. Standing at a whopping…
The path goes around but being an intrepid, bad ass explorer I boldly head towards the top.
I’m now on the home straight. My feet tired and my bottom perky.
As I head to my final destination in Weybourne, one final diversion to have a snoop at. The rather impressive Anti – Aircraft Battery. I can’t get as close as I’d like. I’m no stranger to hopping over a fence or two but a fence that’s followed by bloody big guns, I’ll behave for once.
Part of the Muckleburgh Military Collection, a large privately owned military museum situated on the former Royal Artillery Anti-Aircraft training camp at Weybourne. It certainly looks impressive from what I can see and was even worth backtracking at the end of a 16 mile walk.
This leaves me with a 20 mile stretch to Hopton on Sea to complete before the path becomes part of the England Coast Path in 2020. I’d then have much further to go, and a butt a Kardashian would surely be proud of.