Of course, we did it again: how could we not?
We were quite precise with the date of the walk: by all means, coastal walking can be done in any conditions, rainy or not, but it’s nicer and easier to walk when the weather is mild, breezy and sunny.
And so it was today: we checked our tidal clock, which showed us the lowest tide around 4 p.m., and it also meant that we might start around noon (as per usual ), and we did. One peculiar detail: at the end of the West Cliff beach we spotted the excavators that dug the sand for the new rocks only a few hours prior, and they looked mildly menacing in the hazy background.
Our walk to Sheringham was flawless—effortless, light, and joyous. We saw the same bright red poppies on the cliffs between East and West Runton, the late poppies that should not have been there, as their season is over, yet they were blooming on the chalky ground with perseverance.
Old Bois Groynes on the path that went right after West Runton were there as well, but many of them almost completely destroyed: we heard that they will be freshly timbered soon.
Gulls and herons (we didn’t know for certain, but those relatively big graceful birds with narrow beaks looked like herons to us) sat on the groynes and didn’t even pretend to be spooked by humans. We approached them as closely as possible and stopped only because we didn’t want to be idiots and chase them away.
We didn’t even notice when exactly we reached Sheringham, and it was exactly the same as we left it a year ago—colourful huts with fresh coffees and cakes, murals with fishermen and their sombre wives, flint houses, the High Street with whippies and doughnuts, the steam railway (we were late to the last journey, so skipped it), lunch at Two Lifeboats and plenty of strolling under the dazzling sun.
The return walk was as pleasant as the previous one, and today’s mission was accomplished.
No comments :
Post a Comment