William Alfred Dutt was born at Ditchingham, Norfolk, on 17 November 1870. Later in life he became well known as an author and journalist, writing about wildlife in East Anglia and many other East Anglian topographical works. His 1901 book “Highways and Byways in East Anglia” is particularly interesting for it refers to local myths and legends, but it also highlights the following which provides a fascinating insight into the Norfolk Broads of the early 20th century: its people, their environment and their distinctive way of life, particularly of the wherrymen (river sailors) and the marsh men who made their living by farming, hunting and fishing on the swampy land:
“Then, too, there are the wherrymen and marshmen whom you meet in the evenings at the marshland staithes and ferry inns. Approach them without displaying that ridiculous condescension which is characteristic of too many visitors and amateur yachtsmen and you will find them able and willing to impart much curious information concerning the river life and wild life of Broadland. For these men are not simply fair-weather voyagers; they are afloat on the rivers from January to December, and see the broads and marshes under all aspects and in all seasons. Many of them have known no other life than that which is spent in cruising between the East coast ports and the inland towns; but it has taught them many things of which the world that lies beyond the borders of the marshes has little knowledge.
Join a group of them some summer night when they are gathered in the low-ceiled bar-room of a riverside inn, or lounging about a lock or staithe in the midst of the marshes. Hear them talk of the voyages they have made when the ” roke ” (fog) was so dense as to hide even the windmills on the river banks; of the days when their wherries were icebound and the snowdrifts rose higher than the river-walls; of the marsh-fires (Will O’ the Wisp) which used to flicker over the festering swamps; and of the mist wraiths and phantom fishermen of the meres and marshes. Watch how their faces assume a fixed expression and their pipes are allowed to go out while some old man among them tells of a strange sight he saw one autumn night when his wherry was moored near the ruins of St. Benet’s Abbey”:
Behind all this is the Norfolk accent, which was and remains very distinctive, not one which many outsiders will often hear. The passage from Dutt’s book will allow you to get a taste of the accent, but only if you pronounce the words as you see them written. Do that a few times over and you will have an idea how it sounds. It really does work:
“There wor a full mune, an’ you could see th’ mills an’ mashes as clear as day. There worn’t a breath of wind, not even enow to set th’ reeds a-rustlin’; an’ for over an hour arter sunset you couldn’t hear a livin’ thing a-movin’ either by th’ river or on th’ mashes. I wor a-settin’ in my cabin along wi’ my mate Jimmy Steggles (him as used to hev th’ owd Bittern), an’ we wor a-talkin’ about one thing an’ another for a while afore turnin’ in for th’ night. All of a suddent we heered th’ quarest kind o’ screechin’ a man ever heerd, an’ lookin’ out o’ th’ cabin I seed a man a-runnin’ towards th’ wherry as hard as he could put foot to th’ ground. He soon got alongside on us, and I axed him what he wor a-screechi-n’ about. `It worn’t me, bor,’ he say ; ‘it wor suffin’ what come outer th’ shadder o’ th’ owd abbey. I wor a-goin’ home to Ludham, arter lookin’ arter some bullocks what are on a mash yonder, an’ I thowt I heard suffin a-movin’ about agin th’ ruins.”
“Thinks I, that must be one o’ them there cows what wor browt down here from Acle yesterday forenoon. So I went outer my way a bit to see if anything wor amiss. When I got within about twenty yards o’ th’ walls suffin come a-wamblin’ outer th’ shadder o’ th’ owd mill,’ (you know there wor a mill built on th’ owd abbey years agone) ` an’ started screechin’ like a stuck pig. I never stopped to see what it wor, but jist come for yar wherry like hell in highlows ! “
“He wor a chap I knew well-his father had an eel-sett up th’ Thurne River-an’ he wor a-tremblin’ all over like a man wi’ th’ ayger. Both I an’ my mate went ashore, an’ I took my gun chance I’d wantin’ it; but all we seed wor an owd harnsee (heron) go a-flappin’ away acrost the mashes. An’ it worn’t a harnsee what made that screechin’, I’ll stake my life; though what it wor I never knowed. Whatever it wor it give that Ludham chap a funny fright, an’ he wouldn’t hear o’ goin’ home that night. So we had to find a berth for him aboard th’ wherry, an’ he went on to Wroxham Bridge wi’ us in th’ mornin.”
JOHN BALE (1495-1563), was born in the little village of Cove, near Dunwich in Suffolk, on 21 Nov. 1495. The village was so named after the deCove family who had held land there in the 13th century – today, the place is named Covehithe) because the village once had a hithe, or quay, for loading and unloading small vessels.
Covehithe’s nearby beach and ruined, St Andrew’s Church.
Photos: (c) Paul Dobraszczyk
Bale’s parents were of humble rank and at the age of twelve he was sent to the Carmelite Whitefriars Monastery at Norwich, where he was educated, and thence he passed to Jesus College, Cambridge. He was at first an opponent of the new learning, and was a zealous Roman catholic, but was converted to protestantism by the teaching of Lord Wentworth. He then laid aside his monastic habit, renounced his vows, and caused great scandal by taking a wife, of whom nothing is known save that her name Dorothy. This step exposed him to the hostility of the clergy, and he only escaped punishment by the powerful protection of Thomas Cromwell, Earl of Essex.
Bales held the living of Thornden in Suffolk, and in 1534 was convened before the archbishop of York to answer for a sermon, denouncing Romish uses, which he had preached at Doncaster. Bale is said to have attracted Cromwell’s attention by his dramas, which were moralities, or scriptural plays setting forth the reformed opinions and attacking the Roman party. The earliest of Bale’s plays was written in 1538, and its title is sufficiently significant of its general purport. It is called ‘A Brefe Comedy or Enterlude of Johan Baptystes Preachynge in the Wyldernesse; openynge the craftye Assaults of the Hypocrytes (i.e. the friars) with the glorious Baptyme of the Lord Jesus Christ’ (Harleian Miscellany, vol. i.). Bale wrote several plays of a similar character. They are not remarkable for their poetical merits, but are vigorous attempts to convey his own ideas of religion to the popular mind. When Bale was bishop of Ossory, he had some of his plays acted by boys at the market-cross of Kilkenny on Sunday afternoons.
Cromwell recognised in Bale a man who could strike hard, and Bale continued to make enemies by his unscrupulous outspokenness. The fall of Cromwell brought a religious reaction, and Bale had too many enemies to stay unprotected in England. He fled in 1540 with his wife and children to Germany, and there he continued his controversial writings. Chief amongst them in importance were the collections of Wycliffite martyrologies, ‘A brief Chronicle concerning the Examination and Death of Sir John Oldcastle, collected by John Bale out of the books and writings of those Popish Prelates which were present,’ London, 1544; at the end of which was ‘The Examination of William Thorpe,’ which Foxe attributes to Tyndale. In 1547 Bale published at Marburg ‘The Examination of Anne Askewe.’ Another work which was the fruit of his exile was an exposure of the monastic system entitled ‘ The Actes of Englyshe Votaryes,’ 1546.
On the accession of Edward VI in 1547 Bale returned to England and shared in the triumph of the more advanced reformers. He was appointed to the rectory of Bishopstoke in Hampshire, and published in London a work which he had composed during his exile, ‘The Image of bothe Churches after the most wonderfull and heavenlie Revelacion of Sainct John’ (1550). This work may be taken as the best example of Bale’s polemical power, showing his learning, his rude vigour of expression, and his want of good taste and moderation.
In 1551 Bale was promoted to the vicarage of Swaffham in Norfolk, but he does not appear to have resided there. In August 1552 Edward VI came to Southampton and met Bale, whom he presented to the vacant see of Ossory. In December Bale set out for Ireland, and was consecrated at Dublin on 2 Feb. 1553. From the beginning Bale showed himself an uncompromising upholder of the reformation doctrines. His consecration gave rise to a controversy. The Irish bishops had not yet accepted the new ritual. The ‘Form of Consecrating Bishops,’ adopted by the English parliament, had not received the sanction of the Irish parliament, and was not binding in Ireland. Bale refused to be ordained by the Roman ritual, and at length succeeded in carrying his point, though a protest was made by the Dean of Dublin during the ceremony.
Bale has left an account of his proceedings in his diocese in his ‘Vocacyon of John Bale to the Byshopperycke of Ossorie’ (Harleian Miscellany, vol. vi.). His own account shows that his zeal for the reformation was not tempered by discretion. At Kilkenny he tried to remove ‘idolatries,’ and thereon followed ‘angers, slaunders, conspiracies, and in the end slaughters of men.’ He angered the priests by denouncing their superstitions and advising them to marry. His extreme measures everywhere aroused opposition. When Edward VI’s death was known, Bale doubted about recognising Lady Jane Grey, and on the proclamation of Queen Mary he preached at Kilkenny on the duty of obedience.
But the catholic party at once raised its head. The mass was restored in the cathedral, and Bale thought it best to withdraw to Dublin, whence he set sail for Holland. He was taken prisoner by the captain of a Dutch man-of-war, which was storm driven into St. Ives in Cornwall. There Bale was apprehended on a charge of high treason, but was released. The same fortune befell him at Dover. When he arrived in Holland he was again imprisoned, and only escaped by paying £300 – about £80,000 in today’s terms. From Holland he made his way to Basel, where he remained in quiet till the accession of Elizabeth in 1559. He again returned to England an old and worn-out man. He did not feel himself equal to the task of returning to his turbulent diocese of Ossory, but accepted the post of prebendary of Canterbury, and died in Canterbury in 1563.
Bale was a man of great theological and historical learning, and of an active mind. But he was a coarse and bitter controversialist and awakened equal bitterness amongst his opponents. None of the writers of the reformation time in England equalled Bale’s sharpness and forthrightness. He was known as ‘Bilious Bale’. His controversial spirit was a hindrance to his learning, as he was led away by his prejudices into frequent mis-statements. The most important work of Bale was a history of English literature, which first appeared in 1548 under the title ‘Illustrium Majoris Britanniae Scriptorum Summarium in quinque centurias divisum.’ It is a valuable catalogue of the writings of the authors of Great Britain chronologically arranged. Bale’s second exile gave him time to carry on his work till his own day, and two editions were issued in Basel, 1557-1559. This work owes much to the ‘Collectanea’ and ‘Commentarii’ of John Leland, and is disfigured by misrepresentations and inaccuracies. Still its learning is considerable, and it deserves independent consideration, as it was founded on an examination of manuscripts in monastic libraries, many of which have since been lost.
The plays of Bale are doggerel, and are totally wanting in decorum. A few of them are printed in Dodsley’s ‘Old Plays,’ vol. i., and in the ‘Harleian Miscellany,’ vol. i. The most interesting of his plays, ‘Kynge Johan’, was printed by the Camden Society in 1838. It is a singular mixture of history and allegory, the events of the reign of John being transferred to the struggle between protestantism and popery in the writer’s own day. His controversial writings were very numerous, and many of them were published under assumed names. Tanner (Bibl. Brit.) gives a catalogue of eighty-five printed and manuscript works attributed to Bale, and Cooper (Athenae Cantabrigienses) extends the number to ninety.
Creighton, Mandell. “John Bale.”
The Dictionary of National Biography. Vol III. Leslie Stephen, Ed.
London: Smith, Elder, & Co., 1885. 41-42.
Dating back to the late 15th century, the first Monday after Epiphany marks the start of ploughing for spring sown crops and was once the traditional day of agricultural workers returning after the Christmas period. Historic documents however, tell of plough candles being lit in churches during January in the 13th century.
Customs of the day varied nationwide, but the most common feature was a plough (blessed in church the previous day) to be hauled from house to house in rural communities. As the continued, an army of villagers collected money for the parish during a passing street procession. Apart from dancers and musicians, an old woman called “the Bessy” or a boy dressed as such and a man in the role of the ‘Plough Fool’ often headed of the procession. Some participants paraded a Straw Bear and not surprisingly, the event also attracted much drinking, merriment and mirth throughout the day. In Eastern England, ploughs were taken around by Plough Monday mummers and Molly Dancers and were sometimes even used as a threat. If householders refused to donate to the money collectors, their front paths would be ploughed up!
A festive Plough Pudding was also eaten on the day. Originating and also ‘invented’ in Norfolk, this was a suet pastry-topped boiled pudding filled with pork sausage meat, chopped bacon and onions with sage and sugar added. It could be eaten alone, or served with boiled potatoes, vegetables and gravy. One recipe suggested a Cooking time of 3 hrs 30 minutes, but today’s microwaves would reduce that!! A similar item is still sold today by major supermarkets.
At its height, Plough Monday was most commonly celebrated in the East Midlands and East Anglia, until the English Reformation caused its slow decline. In 1538, Henry VIII forbade “plough lights” to be lit in churches, before Edward VI condemned the “conjuring of ploughs”. Ceremonies revived during the reign of Mary only to decline again during Elizabeth I’s reign. Some processions survived into the 19th century and in 1810, a farmer took his case to Derby Assizes, claiming that refusal to donate money, those pulling the plough, immediately ploughed up his drive, his lawn and a bench, causing twenty pounds worth of damage. Plough Monday customs continued to decline but were revived in some towns in the 20th, with remaining events mainly involving Molly Dancers. Some Plough Monday events were still recorded in the 1930’s before a “folk revival” in the ’60s and ’70s partly returned it to some communities.
This year however, being 2019, Plough Monday falls on the 7th January – which means, for this year at least, it clashes with St. Distaff’s Day!!
Before factory-made cloth was invented, spinning was considered one of the most demanding female chores as before the Spinning Wheel arrived, this activity was slowly and tediously done on a Drop Spindle. One pound of woollen yarn might take a week to spin and a pound of heavy cotton yarn, several weeks. Women of all ages spun threads and when normal activities resumed, they would also spin at home in the evenings, after daytime working in the factory. Spinning was the only way to turn raw wool, cotton or flax, into thread, before it became cloth.
Several times recently, readers have enjoyed descriptions of certain dates connected with historic events, famous people and more. We’ve just had New Year’s Day and next month, comes St Valentine’s Day. But there are other “named” days relating to unusual, forgotten or bygone customs and the following is one example:-
In England, as well as other European countries the days from Christmas through Twelfth Night were once considered a time of rest from the labours of spinning. The maidens returned to their work on St. Distaff’s Day, January 7th. This day was also known as Rock Day, which is derived from the German word rocken, which means both distaff and woman’s. Robert Herrick’s poem about St Distaff’s Day comes from the anthology, Hesperides, and was published in 1647:
St. Distaff’s day, or the morrow after Twelfth-Day
(from Hesperides by Rober Herrick)
Partly worke and partly play
Ye must on S. Distaffs day:
From the Plough soone free your teame;
Then come home and fother them.
If the Maides a spinning goe,
Burne the flax, and fire the tow:
Scorch their plackets, but beware
That ye singe no maiden-haire.
Bring in pailes of water then,
Let the Maides bewash the men.
Give S. Distaffe all the right,
Then bid Christmas sport good-night;
And next morrow, every one
To his owne vocation.
The general suggestion of the poem seems to be that men and women should go back to work after the Christmas break but should do so lightly and with some playfulness thrown in before settling in for the long haul. The command ”Partly worke and partly play/ Ye must on S. Distaffs day” is probably a fair observation on the actual state of affairs, given that Plough Monday games (on the Monday after Epiphany) are well attested in many rural areas, especially East Anglia. Little it seemed was therefore taken too seriously on the first day back at work; it became a joke holiday and they called it St. Distaff’s Day. Of course, there never was a real St. Distaff, the “distaff” was, in fact, a principal spinning tool – a rod on to which flax was tied and from which, thread was pulled.
Although women resumed work on January 7th, men still stayed free until Plough Monday, the first Monday after Epiphany (6th Jan). If that fell on a Tuesday, they wouldn’t return until Monday, 12th January! As it was, the Plough Monday celebrations were a great deal more popular in the days leading up to the 19th century when England still had a sizable rural, agricultural population. A large number of rural customs that flourished in England in the mid-19th century were dying or dead by the beginning of the 20th as people migrated from the country to cities and lost their ties to rural life. Antiquarians and, later, folklorists and anthropologists took to the task of recording the remains of these customs, as well as hunting down snippets of information from archives. As for the plough-boys when the festival was at its height, well they used this discrepancy to no good by playing pranks on the busy spinners. The most popular of these pranks was to set fire to the tow and flax which was awaiting processing. The spinners in turn would quench the fire with buckets of water, drenching both fire and firebug.
Large and small St Distaff’s Day gatherings of the fibre-based community were held nationwide on 7th January, with little work being done that day. Records suggest that in England, St. Distaff’s Day was only ‘celebrated’ between the 13th and 17th centuries.
Some people are not really ‘with it’ when it comes to walking and/or bird watching – even exploring local history, myths etc. etc. However, the County of Norfolk is famous for all these activities and one small example is along the coast to the west of Sheringham. So we thought we might encourage you to join us to sample some of these delights, after a little research on our part. If it worked out, you would have the chance to mentally discover a few little facts and secrets from this little corner of Norfolk……..Well, as it happened things did work out, with the result that we can offer the following narrative which comes in the form of a ‘circular’ journey away from and return to our choice of Weybourne.
Our stroll covers some 5.5 miles (8.75kms). If you were to actually do the walk yourself, without showing any interest in the views or items of interest and information, it would take approximately two hours. But, we do not expect you to do that – not unless you have an insatiable urge to put your walking boots on. For now, we will just take you on this relaxing mental ramble and point out the interesting bits and show you a few photographs – starting with Weyborne itself.
Weybourne is a small fishing resort of delightful old brick and flint cottages situated in what is known as ‘the Norfolk Coast Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty’. The village straddles the A149 coast road and is three miles west of Sheringham and close to the historic market town of Holt. The village population is less than 600 and consists largely of a mixture of local Norfolk residents, retirees and visitors. It is mentioned in the Domesday book and in that survey, it is called ‘Wabrunna’. Today, there remains ruins of an old priory which was founded as a house of Augustinian canons towards the end of the 12th or at the beginning of the 13th century by Sir Ralph Mainwaring. The monument also includes the remains of the priory church dating from the early 13th to the 15th century but incorporating parts of an earlier Saxon church which dates from the 11th century. Within this monastic site, there are also remains of more conventual buildings to the north of the church, together with associated buildings and water management features. Even more interesting is the fact that the 13th century Priory swallowed an earlier Saxon cruciform church, and the remains of the tower of this church can still be recognised to the north of the modern chancel.
Probably the best starting point for taking us away from this delightful village would be from its ruined Priory and along Beach Lane which would take us down to Weybourne shingled beach and a watery shoreline that is named on the map as ‘Weybourne Hope’. From here one has a choice of two sensible options, turning left or right. Our choice is to turn left and travel in a westerly direction along the beach part of the North Norfolk Coastal Path, close to the perimeter fence of the Muckleburgh Military Museum. The area covered by the present-day museum was, during World War 2, an anti-aircraft Artillery training range and, along with a complementary camp at Stiffkey a few miles further along the coast, represented the main live firing training ranges for ACK-ACK Command during that war. Weybourne was also considered to be an ideal enemy invasion target due to the deep-water access. However do not think that the area’s history has little else to offer for it is worth noting that Weybourne also has a history of smugglers and ghosts and a vanished hotel. We’ll pause for a while while you take a look at these Links – we promise to wait.
Just about the point where we pass by Kelling Hard – definitely smugglers here – some wooden rails rise forth along with lifesaving equipment, plus the remains of a small boat. Here we turn left on to a track which moves away from the shingle sea defence and, at first, passes a large lump of unmissable rough concrete before turning right and taking us towards and around a bird-watchers haven – the Kelling Quags. Yes, at first we were foxed too! So, the obvious step was to reach for the dictionary for a definition of ‘Quag’ – well its not there really, but Quagmire is – ‘a soft wet area of land that gives way under feet’ A little more research did confirmed that ‘Quag’ is indeed an abbreviation for a Quagmire, which doesn’t sound very encouraging does it. But stay with us – it gets better! Kelling Quags is marked ‘The Quag’ on OS maps and is immediately to the north of the Water Meadows; all of which is owned by the Norfolk Ornithologist Association.
A walk past the Quags is on reasonably level ground and surprisingly dry during summer months; and very picturesque. The Quags themselves consist of one rather large fresh-water lake, inside the sea defence and rather lower than sea level one would think. It is beautiful spot to visit and should you actually come here then come prepared with binoculars etc. for it is possible to see wrens, mute swans, redshanks, oystercatchers, numerous gulls, male and female mallard plus numerous finches and tits among the hawthorn. Of course, if ‘twitching’ is not for you then climb on to the huge shingle sea barrier and sit in the watery sunshine and watch the waves lap at the shoreline; a warning of undercurrents tells you not to venture into the sea. Rather, have in my mind a walk, just like ours, to Kelling perhaps which is above the lake and on the A149 coastal Road.
Kelling nestles in an extraordinarily pretty part of the country. The local flintstone is the dominant building material and tiny roads, bordered by immaculate hedgerows, meander through undulating land dotted with copses, many of which were planted with shooting in mind – and the Kelling Hall Estate is all about shooting! It is that sort of area where, every now and again, small villages pop up round the inevitable bend and it is very easy to forget about the modern world as the peaceful pace of life here takes over.
The hamlet of Kelling is not only a delight but also so small that it is possible to be completely disregarded on the basis that you are through and out the other side of the village in a minute! The 20mph signs are difficult to stick to but, for those who are patient, the signs do bring the village into focus. It has a rather splendid old bookshop that doubles as a café on the radar; it is positioned just right to prepare oneself for further forays in any direction you may wish to take.
At the coastal road we use the permissive path along the field edge and past a boarded-up house and onwards towards a large gap in the hedge before turning right to cross the road on to the gravel track opposite; this becomes a green lane and then a footpath, which passes the very pleasant Pheasant Hotel on our left as it ascends gently up to the top of Kelling Heath. At the top we have chosen to go straight over a crossing path then, at a fork wo go right and at the next fork we continue straight ahead. Keep going, for at the road Holgate Hill road we cross over on to a track that takes us to the railway crossing over the North Norfolk Railway Line. Now, this is the thing, we were fortunate enough to have arrived just as a steam train passed by on its way back to Sheringham – see above!
With the ‘coast clear’ we cross over the railway crossing and turn immediately left to walk along the footpath, following closely to the railway track and passing the very useful Kelling Heath Information Board. We continue alongside the railway line before dropping a little steeply downhill to a footpath and again towards the railway which is now above us on the left – on an embankment. At this point, the footpath rises to the Kelling Heath Park platform. All is quiet.
The platform was built to enable the visitors to the Kelling Heath caravan site to use the North Norfolk Railway to get to Sheringham or to Weybourne or Holt. There are two seats on the platform for those among us who would perhaps like to have a brief rest and admire the view over toward Weybourne. Once rested, we can walk along the platform and back onto the footpath which takes us alongside a fishing pond, which also has a few seats – but we’re confident no one will want to make use of these.
Continuing along the footpath, still with the railway track close by on the left, we head towards Weybourne station, skirting around Springs Farm just before we get there. Now, given Weybourne’s current geography, it might seem hard to believe that in 1900, plans were in place for a proposed large building, variously known for a time as either the ‘Weybourne Springs Hotel’ or the ‘Weybourne Court’ Hotel. It was to be located next to Weybourne railway station, for reasons that are explained if you follow the Link; however, it was on the opposite side of the road. This building project was, at the time, financed by a Mr Crundle, owner of the nearby gravel pits. His dream was that guests staying in the five-storey upmarket establishment would come from the upper classes – and at that time there were plenty of them around!
Putting that piece of information asided for a moment, we must cross over the road and through a gateway, turning left alongside the horse paddocks towards Weybourne station and on to the platform. At this point we will find that all the facilities we now desperately need are on the other side – some say that this is so typical of Norfolk! We are given no choice but to use the footbridge to cross the railway tracks to the other platform where there are indeed refreshments and toilet facilities. This makes for a nice spot to have a well earned rest and have a look around the station.
Weybourne Station: This is another local attraction on our tour, along with the North Norfolk Railway, otherwise known as the Poppy Line. This well-preserved steam railway cuts through the countryside to the east of Weybourne and passes through this carefully preserved country station on its way from Sheringham through to Holt. For the enthusiasts, this station also houses a locomotive shed with a carriage maintenance and restoration centre.
Weybourne railway station is about 1,000 yards from the village centre, signposted from the coast road opposite the church which, by the way, will be our arrival point at the end of this circular tour. The main station building, which was built in 1900 and opened in 1901, is largely in its original form. Whilst the majority of the station buildings on the M&GN were built in a number of standard styles, Weybourne station was unique. This may be because of the large ‘Weybourne Springs Hotel’ which was built next door and in the same timescale. The hotel was a baroque building and was, as already mentioned, intended to cater for the ‘upper class’. Other structures of that era, such as the signal box, waiting room and footbridge, have been imported from other locations. On the closure of the line, British Rail lifted the track and razed the station, apart from the main station building. It was used as the location for the filming of a Dad’s Army episode, ‘The Royal Train’, and is still frequently used by film-makers and artists.
Having been refreshed and entertained, we can now leave and walk towards the road bridge, turning right and through the car park to the road where we walk the last 1000 yards (or there abouts) back towards the village of Weybourne and its church…….Did you enjoy that?