EAT Day 10

I woke with a start – waking at 5:11 to the dawn chorus followed by falling asleep and rewaking to seemingly bright sunshine at 6am. The morning seemed to speed by in minutes.

As hoped, but not as anticipated (by Snakes) our tarp was not vomited on, set fire to, or taken apart by youths; and we weren’t dragged from our slumber by the police in the middle of the night having been reported by a neighbour, terrified or perturbed by our presence. Who would have thought? Me. That’s who.

We packed up without seeing a soul and were on our way to Great Yarmouth by 6:30. Yarmouth was once the biggest port in England, now, it’s not. We headed to the bright lights in search of breakfast and our hopes were surprisingly high, given what a total crap pot it is.

We had a good bit of beach to walk before that though – 6.6 miles or so. Yesterday I was surprised by how much litter there wasn’t on the beach since we joined it all those moons ago in Holme- now I realise it’s all in Hemsby.

Eric demanded with a nod of her head to her back pocket, that we get her ball out and make the beach walk more interesting for her- we did and repeatedly kept putting it away, fearful she’d be too tired, then kept falling for her charm and getting it back out again.

I’m really over sand now – I have 2 holes in either boot perfectly positioned for sand to pile on in, step after step. That in turn seeps through my socks and grates on my feet like sandpaper. It’s also bloody hard work. But Eric does love the beach so much so we can’t yet retreat to the firmer sea defence wall because then she’ll be sad..

Eventually we joined a solid sea wall and walked on this. Having seen multiple people with coffee cups I asked one of them where I could find one, along with the coffee to go in it. We were directed into a holiday park on the outskirts of Yarmouth and into a coffee machine. Here I was also supposed to get Eric food and lunch supplies but panicked with all the choices and only managed some minimal essentials.

With coffees in hand we walked and sipped along the sea wall into Yarmouth. Blackpool of the South. It was here that the fish finger was invented in 1952 and also here in present day that you can find the country’s largest rock shop. As in, sugar rock, not actual stones. It’s a seaside resort, but was once the largest herring port in the UK and one of the largest in the world. Now it’s strip clubs and sea life centres and not forgetting:

And

Nice .

We walked through town admiring the shop fronts and all manner of person we encountered. The day was warm and bright and everyone was most friendly.

We then walked through a time portal and ended up in the 50’s having found ‘Café La Continental’ which I highly recommend if ever you wake up in Yarmouth. The owner was so welcoming, he looked like Danny, from Grease, but with a strong Suffolk accent. The ‘restaurant’ had been in his family for 30 years. The place was massive and was only occupied by us, and an old Italian man who’s conversation was louder than the music. The prices were cheap and they had everything I wanted. I’m going to leave them an exceptional review.

We left here in search of some fish for Erics lunch, but all we could find were vape shops, Poundland and clothes shops sporting items that haven’t been worn since 1976. I did find a pet shop, but they sold no wet dog food. Just biscuit Burger King. The people of Yarmouth were very friendly-I got the feeling this probably changed after nightfall and you were best locked up inside your house at that point.

As we moved out of town into the edge-lands we passed washing machines and buttercups, graffiti and bluebells, scaffolding and Himalayan balsam. The meeting of two worlds.

We hugged the edge of Breydon water which at low tide is all mud and, the UK’s largest protected wetland area. After some time it splits, and the river Yare heads North up to Norfolk while out faithful guide, the river Waveney winds west dividing Norfolk and Suffolk. We walked on high banks into a warm headwind and noticed as the amount of dumped poo bags diminished as we went further west.

Eventually we peeled off and walked a short section of road trough Belton, which , conveniently supplied us with a pharmacy directly on route to help deal with some chapped lips. From here we broke off into woodland as we skirted Friton lake, a medieval lake once dug for peat extraction before coming into use as a duck decoy. In the Second World war a secret training facility was located here training crews of amphibious tanks. One failed training exercise means one of these tanks it still at the bottom of the lake today.

We stopped for lunch in the woods and both agreed we were tired now. After a refill of baps, we carried on through mixed woodland and fairytale boardwalks. We stomped a couple of miles on road to reach Somerleyton and the Dukes Head. Here we passed back from Norfolk into Suffolk. Three other locals were resting on the bar when we arrived and a friendly ”where the hell have you come from” chat ensued. I like popping in to these pockets of other peoples routine, witnessing life in another town or village. These three all knew each other, I Imagine they saw each other here on a daily basis. After they’d left the bar woman told us one of them comes in three times a day, every day.

We spent time in the pub using their flannel hand towels, delicious soap and hot water, their electricity and of course their beer, while we planned our last push to camp. I’d been eyeing up a church a few miles up the road on the outskirts of Oulton Broad. After a beautiful and fast few miles through sunny woodland and rooty paths we came to see the church just up on the hill ahead. We passed a man with two fat Labradors. I asked him if he knew the vicar and or the church warden. He knew both and had their telephone numbers. He called the vicar to ask if we could sleep in the porch but had no answer. He suggested we could just sleep in his garden which was a three minute walk back up the path. Snakes asked if he might like to check with his wife. He agreed this would be a sensible idea and did so.

“I’ve just met two girls and a poodle , can they camp in our garden tonight?”

“Yep”

“Ok see you later“

And with that, he carried on to finish his dog walk while we retraced our steps back following his instructions to turn off the path through a gate when we saw chickens.

We set up camp in record time and set about making our 5 bean casserole which looked like old vomit. It didn’t taste like that though. Our new pal Richard retuned from his walk and offered us showers, Wi-Fi, kettles and chairs inside but we declined the offer. We we’re going to sleep soon easily and I was keen to finish the trail a stinking mess tomorrow. Thanks Richard!

The last day tomorrow, Bungay is calling