This is an entry I made to a travel writing competition in The Daily Telegraph. I'm still waiting for my prize!
The setting sun glistened on the muddy banks exposed by the receding tide. In the distance Noah's Ark rose out of the marsh. It looked like a large shed perched on top of the wooden hull. As we drew nearer we could see it really was a large shed atop a wooden hull. Perhaps it was Noah's Ark, nothing's necessarily what it seems on the east coast. Setting sun, east coast? Yes that's right a sunset on the east coast of England, this is Norfolk so prepare to suspend belief.
We press on through the salt marsh, the boats sit awkwardly where the tide leaves them, crazy angles against the failing light, then returning birds chatter irritably at us, this is their territory and we are invading it. In the distance a man, yellow oilskin coat to protect against the easterly breeze, begins to dig for bait, a fisherman trudges away for his tea, crabs in his tray, still alive. We try not to think of their fate. This is holiday country set amongst real people who eke a living from this sometimes savage coast, but it is not savage this evening it is benign and strangely welcoming.
In the distance the chimneys of the Lifeboat Inn hint at a fire inside, despite the fact that it is July. We enter the bar, coughing at the atmosphere, most of the smoke seems to be in the room. Is there a table in the restaurant?Yes, good.
We look outside, it seems quite dark, in the distance, a light on the marsh. I tell my wife it's smugglers, there's a look on her face that shows she's ready to believe me, we giggle, it could be the famous five, Norfolk's like that, it's become a stylish place to be but not particularly stylish if that makes any sense. Earlier in the day we took a train from Weybourne to Holt, a steam train of course, more Famous Five or was it The Railway Children? You really could get carried away in this neck of the woods.
So delightfully old fashioned and yet the yummy mummies and their high powered husbands will be here come Friday, at least their 4 x 4's will have some real country to contend with, don't think much of their chances of getting a signal on their Blackberry's round here though, perhaps that's the attraction.
Our cottage is the loveliest place but it's only ours for a few days. There was no sense of "oh well it's only for a short time" when we arrived it was everything we'd hoped for, inspiring and artful, cleverly homely and anonymous at the same time.
Too soon it's time to go but fortunately Sandringham House is on the route home so we visit her Maj's holiday gaff, laughingly described as a family home, yeah right; nothings what it seems in Norfolk.
The setting sun glistened on the muddy banks exposed by the receding tide. In the distance Noah's Ark rose out of the marsh. It looked like a large shed perched on top of the wooden hull. As we drew nearer we could see it really was a large shed atop a wooden hull. Perhaps it was Noah's Ark, nothing's necessarily what it seems on the east coast. Setting sun, east coast? Yes that's right a sunset on the east coast of England, this is Norfolk so prepare to suspend belief.
We press on through the salt marsh, the boats sit awkwardly where the tide leaves them, crazy angles against the failing light, then returning birds chatter irritably at us, this is their territory and we are invading it. In the distance a man, yellow oilskin coat to protect against the easterly breeze, begins to dig for bait, a fisherman trudges away for his tea, crabs in his tray, still alive. We try not to think of their fate. This is holiday country set amongst real people who eke a living from this sometimes savage coast, but it is not savage this evening it is benign and strangely welcoming.
In the distance the chimneys of the Lifeboat Inn hint at a fire inside, despite the fact that it is July. We enter the bar, coughing at the atmosphere, most of the smoke seems to be in the room. Is there a table in the restaurant?Yes, good.
We look outside, it seems quite dark, in the distance, a light on the marsh. I tell my wife it's smugglers, there's a look on her face that shows she's ready to believe me, we giggle, it could be the famous five, Norfolk's like that, it's become a stylish place to be but not particularly stylish if that makes any sense. Earlier in the day we took a train from Weybourne to Holt, a steam train of course, more Famous Five or was it The Railway Children? You really could get carried away in this neck of the woods.
So delightfully old fashioned and yet the yummy mummies and their high powered husbands will be here come Friday, at least their 4 x 4's will have some real country to contend with, don't think much of their chances of getting a signal on their Blackberry's round here though, perhaps that's the attraction.
Our cottage is the loveliest place but it's only ours for a few days. There was no sense of "oh well it's only for a short time" when we arrived it was everything we'd hoped for, inspiring and artful, cleverly homely and anonymous at the same time.
Too soon it's time to go but fortunately Sandringham House is on the route home so we visit her Maj's holiday gaff, laughingly described as a family home, yeah right; nothings what it seems in Norfolk.
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