Happisburgh Delight

Let me tell you something that really irritates me. It's when the local council tarmac a few square metres next to the beach, bung up a toilet and then charge the public a fiver for a couple of hours parking. Ok, so that's off my chest.

Anyway, if that's what Happisburgh council had planned for me, it wasn't going to work. Instead we parked up on Church Lane and strolled the quarter of a mile back to the car park. The area around was heaving with people preparing to walk, or so we thought. Strange because ten minutes later, Sue and I were the only ones actually walking. The great British public clearly had other plans: some snoozed in their cars; a few junior adventurers made it to the beach; others opted for the pub; and the rest were queuing for chips at the cafe.

Alone and quite happy we walked the new coastal path, enjoying some great views. Heading inland, the temperature soared, as did our spirits, allowing us to contemplate, meditate and unravel the knots of the week.

Before heading north west, we passed, what I guess was Norfolk's biggest pile of poo. Unpleasant, but as Sue pointed out, excellent for clearing the nasal cavities. Next up we tracked a manicured pathway leading to a beautiful equestrian field, fringed with green willows and expensive fencing. For a moment I thought someone had picked up Lords cricket ground and dropped it in Norfolk.

On the final leg we caught up with a couple of portly walkers, who were entertaining their dog with one of those fetch ball-throwing devices. And indeed the dog did look fit. The adults, on the other hand, had clearly, never learned how to say no to a nice lunch. I was going to suggest a change in throwing/fetching duties, but wisely held my tongue.

If you've been to Happisburgh, you'll know that the landscape is dominated by two enormous erections: one the church tower on the hill, the other, a candy striped phallus - the lighthouse. It was while heading towards these, that we enjoyed a slice of good fortune. Almost at the termination of our walk, we came out opposite a small fishmongers, where we bought Cromer crab, with the money saved on the car parking.

A couple of minutes later, armed with plastic forks, we were enjoyed our  meal, accompanied with picture postcard views, across the downs and out to sea: our chosen viewing point was a bench in the graveyard at the top of the hill; as good a place as any to end the day.