Walking. Gossip. Travel.

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  • King’s Lynn – St James Chapel

    King’s Lynn – St James Chapel

    There’s not much left of St James Chapel and what remains isn’t accessible to the public, although at least the burial ground sort of survives. It was though once a substantial building and it was founded at the same time as the Chapel of St. Nicholas. It’s known as a chapel rather than a church, as it was intended to be used as a chapel of ease to the Church of St. Margaret. Work started on the chapel in the twelfth century, but because it was a chapel at ease, there isn’t a huge documented record from the medieval period.

    As an aside, there was a man named William Sawtrey, who caused a considerable scene in the late fourteenth century by espousing Lollard views. They were early reformers and caused something of a threat to the Catholic Church, which meant that the authorities in Norfolk wanted to stamp down on this rebellion (and there’s a pub called Lollard’s Pit in Norwich which is located by a place where many of these reformers were burned at the stake).

    Anyway, Sawtrey rejected Catholic saints, opposed pilgrimages and didn’t want images to be venerated. This was a bit of a problem for the church as Sawtrey was the priest at St. Margaret’s Church in King’s Lynn, so Henry le Despenser was called in as he was the Bishop of Norwich. Despenser was not really the kindest of men, he put down the Peasant’s Revolt in Norfolk in a bloody style, he maintained privilege and he also tried to destroy those who wanted reform of the Catholic Church. He is buried in front of the high altar of Norwich Cathedral, which might annoy him since the protestant reforms he fought against eventually took place and his body is now left in a Church of England building.

    I digress though. Despenser sent Sawtrey to prison, but he was released as long as he condemned the Lollard movement and he had to do this in front of the Chapel of St. James (which is why I’m telling this convoluted story….). Sawtrey apologised to God in the churchyard of the chapel on 25 May 1399 and he promised Despenser that he would never again challenge the authority of the Catholic Church. To cut another long story short, Sawtrey just went to London instead to preach his Lollard views and he was executed in March 1401.

    Moving forwards to the Dissolution of the Monasteries though, as this period was well recorded, and the Reformation had a large impact on the town of King’s Lynn, not least as it had been known as Bishop’s Lynn, but also as numerous monasteries and religious institutions were closed down, including this chapel.

    On 17 December 1544, the plate belonging to the chapel of St. James was flogged off and the money was used to strengthen the town walls against the threats of the sea. On 2 February 1548, the authorities announced that the building would be taken down and the bells were sold in 1550, with the money being used to buy ordinance and artillery to defend the town. Work started to take down the stone, wood and lead, but it was agreed locally that the chancel area would remain standing and would be covered in tiles.

    In 1560, the Lords of the Council came to have a little look at what arrangements were taking place in Lynn with regards to the chapel. Probably not very efficient ones, as the town corporation got quite grumpy at this situation and told them to clear off. Work continued slowly and in 1568 it was decided that the wealthy Duke of Norfolk could have 20 loads of freestone if he wanted it, and because he was so wealthy, the corporation wouldn’t charge him for that. Nothing really changes….

    A fair sum of money was spent on turning the building into a workhouse, which opened on (or was decided on) 1 June 1582, a purpose which the site was to retain for a few hundred years. In 1597, when the plague hit King’s Lynn, it was also the location where the ill were sent, perhaps with not much concern for those already in the workhouse.

    From the collections of the British Library

    In the 1680s, what remained of the medieval structure was turned into a new workhouse building which was designed by Henry Bell, and it’s this that can be seen in the above image. Between 1805 and around the 1870s, the area near to the chapel was brought back into use as a burial ground, but the gravestones were collected together in 1903 and the space was turned into a park.

    The central bay and the tower of this building collapsed in August 1854, which wasn’t entirely ideal. The incident came to the attention of the national media and it was reported that:

    “About half past 11, the whole central tower came down with a tremendous crash, distinctly heard throughout the town. Scores of labourers at once set to work clearing away the debris as far as possible, in order to extricate those who might be below, it having been reported that many people had been killed. Fortunately, however, this turned out to be incorrect. The girls were at church at the time and the boys sitting in front of the building, to the right of the tower. A few minutes before the building fell in, Mr. Nelson, the governor of the workhouse, attended by Mr Andrews, went to the clock room to see what was amiss. Whilst they were there the fall took place, and they were carried down amidst an immense mass of material. These two gentlemen, it was concluded, were inevitably killed, with several old men who could not be found. The escape of several of the inmates was almost miraculous”.

    There’s a story about someone kicking the clock which caused the whole structure to fall down, but none of the press at the time seemed to mention that, so I’m not sure where that information comes from. Other reports note that just one elderly man died, which was primarily as he refused to get out of bed. A new workhouse had to be constructed quickly and this opened on Extons Road in 1856.

    What was left of the structure was mostly demolished in 1910, with just a small section now remaining. The central part of the remaining structure with the bricks and large window is from the sixteenth century, with the medieval stone of the earlier chapel being visible on either side of that.

  • King’s Lynn – St. James Chapel Burial Ground and a Cluster of Gravestones (Thomas Barlow)

    King’s Lynn – St. James Chapel Burial Ground and a Cluster of Gravestones (Thomas Barlow)

    This grave belongs to Thomas Barlow and is located at the relocated burial ground of St. James Chapel in King’s Lynn.

    I like this gravestone as it actually offers some information about Thomas, namely that he was a bookseller on the High Street. It’s a shame more graves don’t have a few more details such as this, or, even photographs as is much more common in some mainland European countries. Although I recognise that since Thomas was buried in the early nineteenth century that a photograph would be more challenging, but I meant for more modern burials. Anyway, I digress.

    Thomas was born on 18 March 1788 and christened at the Church of St. Margaret with St. Nicholas on 31 January 1789 and he was the son of William Barlow and Mary Barlow.

    Thomas opened his bookshop on the High Street in 1821 and advertised this in the local press. This made me wonder where the shop was and there’s a clue in the advert, as it mentions a “Mr. Servante”. He owned a linen shop on the High Street and this had previously been occupied by Robert Redwell, with this freehold being advertised in the local paper. The advert for the freehold of the property mentions that the premises came with a “dwelling house, warehouse, stable, yard, garden and shop” and that they were “located directly opposite Norfolk Street”. That, I think, puts it at somewhere like 74 High Street, where Bonmarche currently is.

    Thomas died on 2 May 1823 and was buried on 7 May 1823, but, unfortunately, the death wasn’t announced in any local press that I can find, so I don’t know the cause of why he died at the age of just 30.

  • King’s Lynn – St. James Chapel Burial Ground and a Cluster of Gravestones

    King’s Lynn – St. James Chapel Burial Ground and a Cluster of Gravestones

    Until 1903, this was the graveyard of St James Chapel (which had long since fallen into disuse as it was closed during the Reformation), although it had been closed to burials for some years. The area had been opened to burials from 1805, but there were also some medieval burials from when St. James chapel was still operating. It was decided that it would be beneficial for the town to use this space as a public park, although the Mayor added that it was primarily for the older population to relax and not for younger people to play in. I suspect that the town didn’t dislike younger people, they just felt that there was already sufficient provision in King’s Lynn for that.

    The gravestones were all bundled up and shoved in one corner of the churchyard, something that I was surprised was seen as acceptable in 1903. However, after reading newspaper reports from the time, it makes a little more sense. It transpires that, for whatever reason, the graves had already been moved about a bit before, so they had lost their original placement. Given that, the council thought that moving them again wouldn’t be problematic, but they promised to ensure that the stones would be treated with care and respect.

    The council also pledged to ensure that details of each of the graves were to be kept so that individuals were able to cross-reference the old and new locations. This documentation was to be placed in the town clerk’s office and it was felt that this care would be useful to the population of King’s Lynn and ensure that no information was lost in the move. I’m not really that keen on moving gravestones from where they were originally placed, but this action probably ensured that the stones remained better preserved since they’re all shoved close together and protected from the elements.

    Anyway, some more photos, and I’ve got some (well, a lot) of photos of individual gravestones as some looked quite intriguing and might interest me to write about in the future. The stones are, I think, all from between 1805 and around 1870, which is when the churchyard opened and closed.

  • Wymondham to Forncett Railway – The Swedes and Swimmers Line

    Wymondham to Forncett Railway – The Swedes and Swimmers Line

    The Wymondham to Forncett railway line was constructed between April 1880 and May 1881, allowing a connection between the Norwich to Cambridge line and the Norwich to London line. This was mainly for freight purposes, but there were passenger services also, with one station along the six-mile route, which was Ashwellthorpe railway station. Wymondham railway station had been open since 1845 and Forncett railway station since 1849, meaning this line only needed the construction of Ashwellthorpe, which opened in 1881.

    The line has since been nicknamed the Swedes and Swimmers Line, apparently after the food which the navvies building the railway were eating at the time. This was a combination of swedes, which aren’t particularly delicious in my opinion, and swimmers, which are Norfolk dumplings. I like the idea of naming lines after what the construction staff were eating and drinking at the time, the Crossrail line would be much better if it were called the Greggs and Coffee line.

    The service stopped for passengers in the days after the Second World War was announced and although it was only initially intended for the duration of the conflict, the trains never returned here for anything other than freight. The last freight service was on 4 August 1951 and the track was lifted in February 1952.

    Some of the line did last longer and I’ll quote the excellent page at Forncett History to tell the story:

    “A short two-mile spur of the line remained at the Wymondham end at Hethel until 1976 and in December 1954 this was used to stable the royal train overnight. The spur was subsequently used by Archie King for scrap railway carriages, the wooden superstructures being burnt before the steel undercarriage was broken up. Eventually the scrap dealer realised that there was a market for the more valuable pieces of ornament in the carriages, and they were removed before being torched. In 1967 the North Norfolk Railway rescued the Gresley Quad set of coaches from this scrapyard. In 1970 the actual carriage that had been robbed in the Great Train Robbery seven years earlier was burned here, in the presence of police and Post Office representatives, in order to avoid it becoming the target of souvenir hunters.”

    This is Wymondham railway station looking in the Norwich direction, and this railway line spurred off to the left around 250 metres down the line. There’s nothing left of the Swedes and Swimmers line today other than a few bridges, some destroyed bridges and lots of embankments along the route. One thing that became evident to me whilst looking at what was left is just how much soil had to be moved to create those embankments, who says Norfolk is flat?

    For anyone wanting to walk a section of the former line, a chunk can be reached by going down Lizard Lane in Wymondham. On my expedition along the railway line I was accompanied by Liam, along with the two younger railway surveyors, Dylan and Leon. They were very helpful indeed, although I think I might have exhausted them with railway history by the end.

    An information board about the Lizard.

    The railway embankment is visible at the rear of this photo, and there’s a circular path for those who want to walk around this area.

    This is where the railway line once connected into the Wymondham to Norwich line, now overgrown and also fenced off at the rear.

    The closed line is the one which goes off to the right on this map.

    This entire section is on a raised embankment, little changed other than they’ve entirely lifted the track and all evidence of it. Which is quite a bit change I suppose, but the embankment here is intact.

    This section of the railway ends here as the A11 has been built in front of it.

    The railway bridge here is intact and it’s possible to walk over it, although that requires fighting through bushes and brambles.

    The side of the bridge, where Dylan randomly found a Geocache. I thought it was some abandoned rubbish, but he clearly has a better eye for hidden treasure than I do.

    The A11 is around 50 metres in front at this point.

    The A11 now cuts through here from north to south.

    This photo was taken on a gazebo type structure, showing the embankment. At this stage we walked back to the start, ready to go to the next section of the former line.

    This photo was taken in the staff car park of Goff Petroleum, where the line once went straight through.

    Looking in the other direction, there’s not much evidence of the line here in the car park….

    We moved on a little at this point, this photo looks back towards Goff and a huge gravel pit has appeared in recent decades. The former route of the line is visible snaking through the middle of the photo, although the section in the foreground has been removed.

    I took this photo, and the one above, on the railway bridge which is on Bridge Road. This one shows the view from the other side of the bridge.

    This is Long’s Wood, an area of land given to the community by Dennis Long in 1994, and what a rather lovely contribution it is. The railway line goes through the centre of the wood and there’s also a trail that children (and indeed adults) can follow. Dylan and Leon liked looking for the various 20 different bosses around the site, I think we found just under half of them.

    The line further down in Long’s Wood.

    This is the railway bridge at the northern end of Long’s Wood.

    Looking over the bridge towards Wymondham.

    Underneath the bridge, which today seems rather superfluous and isn’t used by traffic of any kind, but perhaps it was once useful for farm machinery.

    Now rather moist, this is the former track under the bridge.

    And this is what that bridge crossing looked like 100 years ago on the map.

    Moving a little further down the line, this is the view of the bridge at Wymondham Road.

    And looking the other way.

    This section of bridge on Ashwellthorpe Road survives on one side, with the railway then running parallel to the road for a short distance.

    The Blacksmiths Lane bridge.

    The bridge at Blacksmiths Lane from the other side.

    At Blacksmiths Lane, the railway went across this field, but there’s no evidence of that unless looking on overhead views, where it’s sort of visible in crop markings.

    The railway came sweeping in near to High Road / Blacksmiths Lane, in this place not quite meeting the road, although it crossed it a little further up.

    The bridge at High Road / Blacksmiths Lane.

    This is all that remains of the Fundenhall Road bridge, what looks from this angle just like a small vertical section of stone.

    From the other side, the support for the bridge is more substantial than it initially appears.

    The other side of the bridge on Fundenhall Road.

    This is what that section looked like on the map.

    The Bayes Lane crossing looking away from Wymondham, with my photo taking opportunity limited here as a family were having a picnic. I thought they might consider it strange if I took a photo of them busily eating their lunch.

    The Bayes Lane crossing looking towards Wymondham.

    I’m slightly surprised that they haven’t taken down this section at Chequers Hill, it’s a large section of viaduct that is quite near to where the Norwich to London mainline is. I think it would be possible to get up the right-hand side and they’ve put fencing on top of the bridge there to stop people falling off the structure, but I decided not to try and scramble up as that often leads to me scrambling back down again soon after in a way that isn’t ideal. I’m really not a born climber, but I might see if Liam fancies popping up there to get some photos in the future. He doesn’t seem to slide back down slopes in the way that I do.

    The map of Chequers Hill.

    The other side of the bridge at Chequers Hill.

    The bridge which carries the Norwich to London mainline.

    And this is the track of the mainline, looking towards Norwich.

    And this is where the former junction where the lines met, although nearly all trace of this has now gone.

    Although significant chunks of the route can be walked along, there are also sections across private fields where farmers wouldn’t appreciate people trekking. The line was six miles long, but anyone wanting to walk the route would now need to walk probably ten miles, as there would be some diversions along the road in several places. For those who like railway heritage, it’s an interesting piece of transportation history though. In terms of the walk, the sections at The Lizard and Long’s Wood are perhaps slightly hidden treasures in the countryside.

    I often write that closing railway stations is a mistake, and it’s clear that there was very limited passenger traffic to be had at either Ashwellthorpe or Forncett. It wouldn’t be too challenging to put the Forncett railway station back if there was ever a demand, but there clearly isn’t at the moment with such a small population. It would also slow down the Norwich to London trains, where there is already pressure on them to speed up as part of the 90 minute journey pledge.

    However, removing the track does seem like a mistake to me, as this was a potentially very useful line that connected the two lines without going into Norwich. Even if passenger services aren’t necessarily required via something like Diss to Thetford, it might well have been useful for Greater Anglia to have been able to move trains about with a little more ease. And if there was an obstruction anywhere around Norwich, this might have performed a useful function in moving trains. Also, it might not have been unhelpful to connect Thetford, Attleborough and Wymondham to stations such as Diss and Stowmarket, otherwise passengers have to go into Norwich or Cambridge to make that connection.

    There will be more in another post about the three railway stations that this line was served by, which were Wymondham, Ashwellthorpe and Forncett. Wymondham is still there and in use, Ashwellthorpe railway station is now a private residence and Forncett is no longer a station, but the track is still the mainline. My story about those railway stations might drone on for quite a while, hence why that can wait for another post.

  • Peterborough – Bishop’s Road Gardens (War Memorial)

    Peterborough – Bishop’s Road Gardens (War Memorial)

    This war memorial is located in what was many centuries ago the gardens of the Abbot of Peterborough Cathedral, which led down to the River Nene. Some of that area is now a small well-presented park (and other parts of the former gardens now include a large car park and a road, which are rather less tranquil), which has this war memorial in a prominent location. The rocks which comprise the memorial are from the Mourne Mountains in Northern Ireland, an element of peace which contrasts to the two soldiers who died in the Province during The Troubles.

    The architect of the memorial was Columb Hanna and the Bishop of Peterborough was present at its dedication on 30 September 2001.

    Corporal Michael Boddy was killed in Belfast on 17 August 1972, aged 24. He was killed by a sniper’s bullet whilst serving for the 2nd Battalion of Royal Anglian Regiment.

    Lance Bombardier Stephen Restorick was killed in Bessbrook on 12 February 1997, aged 23. He was also killed by a sniper’s bullet whilst checking documentation at a checkpoint and he had been serving in the 3rd Regiment of the Royal Horse Artillery. Stephen was also the last soldier to be killed by the Provisional IRA before the signing of the Good Friday Agreement. This case proved a difficult one at the time, as Bernard McGinn was sentenced to 490 years in prison for this killing, and numerous others, but he was released a year later under the terms of the Good Friday Agreement.

    More recently, a third name has been added to the memorial, Company Sergeant Colin Beckett, who died at the age of 36 in Helmand Province on 5 February 2011. The Ministry of Defence issued this statement at the time:

    “Company Sergeant Major Beckett deployed to Afghanistan on 15 October 2010 as Company Sergeant Major of C Company, 3rd Battalion The Parachute Regiment (3 PARA). He was based at Patrol Base Folad in the Nad ‘Ali district of Helmand province. On the morning of 5 February 2011 he was deployed on an operation to interdict the movement of insurgents into Shaheed, a village on the Nahr-e Bughra canal where C Company have been developing a protected community. At 0834hrs Company Sergeant Major Beckett was fatally wounded by an improvised explosive device which detonated as he was moving into position to cover his fellow patrol members.

    Company Sergeant Major Beckett, known as ‘Tom’ in the Army, was born on 20 February 1974 in his home town of Peterborough. He joined the Army in July 1990 and was posted to 3 PARA on completion of his training. A strong performance on the anti-tank cadre in 1993 saw him take the first steps down a specialisation in which he would become a master, leading anti-tank soldiers at nearly every rank. Company Sergeant Major Beckett’s outstanding command ability was recognised early and he moved up the ranks swiftly, excelling on anti-tank and rifle command courses as he went, all fitted around operational deployments to Northern Ireland and Kosovo.

    It was as an Anti-Tank Section Commander that he deployed to Iraq during the first Operation TELIC in 2003 but he had been promoted by the time he deployed as a Platoon Sergeant with C Company on Operation HERRICK 4, 3 PARA’s first deployment to Helmand in 2006. He was soon back in Afghanistan on Operation HERRICK 8, again at the forefront commanding his soldiers, this time as a Fire Support Group Second-in-Command during 3 PARA’s tour as Regional Battle Group South. After promotion to Warrant Officer Class 2 in 2009, Company Sergeant Major Beckett took over as Company Sergeant Major of C Company in the vital lead-up to operations. It was in this most challenging role that he deployed to Afghanistan in October 2010 as part of the 3 PARA Battle Group, Combined Force Nad ‘Ali (North).”

  • Peterborough – Rule Breaking Pigeons….

    Peterborough – Rule Breaking Pigeons….

    This amused me for a short while. I accept that I clearly need to get out more….

  • Hempnall – St. Margaret’s Church (Ephraim Thain)

    Hempnall – St. Margaret’s Church (Ephraim Thain)

    There’s a lot to be said for slate gravestones, they usually retain their clarity so that they can still be read centuries on. This is the grave of Ephraim Thain, a name which somehow requires a clear articulation of the syllables to pronounce. Or maybe that’s just me….

    The gravestone also contains the names of Ephraim’s wife, Ann, who died on 21 July 1835 at the age of 35, and their daughter, Frances Ann, who died on 11 June 1835 at the age of 3. Unusually, it seems that the Ann had to wait for Ephraim’s death before the gravestone was placed here, given that his details are on top and he didn’t die until 1860, at the age of 60. The mother and daughter also died very close together, within just a matter of weeks, which seems to tell a story of its own. Or at least, I think they died within a few weeks of each other, it’s quite hard to discern between the ‘3’ and the ‘5’ on the grave due to the style of writing.

    Ephraim had married Ann Lettington on 9 October 1824, at Pulham St. Mary. In the same year, and at the same church (which might have caused some comments at the time) their child Sarah Elizabeth Thain was christened.

    One difficulty about Ephraim’s name is that the transcribers have struggled to spell it correctly at any stage, which makes things rather more challenging. Ephraim Thain (listed as Shain) appears on the 1851 census, noted as a widower, and he was listed as being a farm servant at the Green in Hempnall.

    Ephraim was buried on 19 December 1861. The gravestone that he has been given is expensive and I can only imagine was paid for by the owner of the farm, who took great care to ensure that Ephraim’s wife and child were also listed on it. This likely explains why they hadn’t had a stone of their own, it would be unlikely that Ephraim could have afforded anything. I don’t know why the mother and daughter died within weeks of each other, there are no newspaper reports and no records of the deaths have survived. Cholera was a problem at the time in the country, and indeed in Norwich, but it didn’t affect rural villages in quite the same way.

    The element that interested me about this grave is that this family very nearly became anonymous. It’s hard to find records of them due to their names not being transcribed correctly, with some records seemingly missing or so incorrectly transcribed they can’t be readily located. Ann Thain died before the first census took place and the details of her children are also scant. Being farm workers, their lives didn’t trouble the local media, so their life stories are also lost. Without this gravestone, which someone spent some money on, there’s the chance that their lives would not have been remembered at all. It’d be nice to hope that more of this family’s life can be told in the future, but I’d be moderately surprised if the written record has much more to tell.

  • LDWA 100 – Training Walk 14 (Finding the Source of the River Wensum Part 2)

    LDWA 100 – Training Walk 14 (Finding the Source of the River Wensum Part 2)

    This was our fourteenth walk in preparation for the 2021 LDWA 100.

    WALK NUMBER: 14 (Finding the Source of the River Wensum Part 2)

    DISTANCE COVERED: 15.5 miles

    NUMBER OF NATHAN’S FRIENDS WE “ACCIDENTALLY” BUMP INTO: 0

    SUFFICIENT BEER CONSUMED: No (all the pubs are shut)

    PUBS VISITED: 0 (not through choice)

    WEATHER CONDITIONS: Warm and overcast

    ATTACKED BY ANIMALS: No

    NUMBER OF SNAKES SEEN: 0

    One of the projects that we started in early January was an attempt to find the source of the River Wensum. We sort of know where the source is, but it’s more exciting to actually walk to it. Our first effort was just over 15 miles and this effort was nearly the same distance, so all credit to Nathan for planning this route. He made relatively few mistakes and I was very impressed. Public transport planning was less impressive on his behalf, but I don’t intend to much mention that as I’m not one for negativity.

    We started this little expedition at 08:30, getting the bus to Costessey to begin the adventure. I say adventure, but I’ve just watched a video on YouTube of someone (Anton) climbing Reactor 4 in Chernobyl and it’s not exactly the same level of challenge as that I admit….

    This was our end point on the last walk, the heart of Costessey, the jewel of the Norwich suburbs.

    The former Red Lion pub in Costessey.

    I thought that this was an interesting tree, but Nathan muttered something about how I was faffing about taking photographs early on during the walk. I ignored him and took photos anyway, as I have a blog to write whilst he sits at home drinking beer in the evenings.

    A frog crossing, or maybe a toad crossing, I’m not entirely sure how they differ.

    And it was nice to see the Wensum River again, since that was the point of this walk.

    This bridge is just outside Taverham and it also makes a little appearance in a walk that Liam and I did a few weeks ago.

    We didn’t go into Taverham itself, but backed up a little bit and we started to walk alongside the river at Ringland Lane.

    Some lovely swans opposite Beehive Lodge.

    The Swan at Ringland, a pub which has been trading since the 1930s. This would have been a lovely spot to have a little drink whilst planning the next part of the walk, but it’s not long until pubs re-open. We thought this numerous times during the day, but it really isn’t too long now.

    We walked down to the river here to Ringland River Green and that’s the bridge over the Wensum on Ringland Road.

    There were lots of rope swings. I didn’t go on them, they didn’t look very secure and I didn’t want any incidents as I didn’t feel that Nathan would have taken my plight with sufficient seriousness.

    What looks like some very new signage for the Walsingham Way, and I now feel the need to walk that at some point. It seems to be a work in progress and there’s further information at https://walsinghamway.blog/.

    A beautiful little lamb. It’s a meat I try to avoid now as I feel guilty having seen too many cute lambs in fields. It’s all a bit hypocritical really since chickens are cute and I eat them, but I suppose it’s important to take a stand on a few things at least.

    This beautiful landscape is what Norfolk County Council are considering putting a road through, the Western Link Road. It’s not for me to get political (well, no more than normal), but it strikes me as rather a shame if that happens. Public transport really isn’t ideal in this area, much more needs to be done to improve it.

    We had to cut across a field near to Wensum Valley golf club here and I was a little concerned that we’d plunge into the marsh. Fortunately, it was just about all dry enough to walk over, but I suspect it might be out of bounds during the winter months when it’s all quite moist.

    The bridges are in a good state of repair though and there are a few here, connecting Ringland onto the Norwich to Fakenham Road.

    No need replacing the old sign, shove another one on top.

    The River Wensum is back, with a friendly farmer at the end of the bridge putting up his cows in field sign. I’m pleased that we avoided those, as it’s fair to say that Nathan and I don’t find cows in fields to be in the slightest bit pleasant. They’re big lumpy things which always look like they’re going to charge at me (the cows I mean, not Nathan).

    Standing on the bridge looking at the River Wensum in the Norwich direction.

    I thought that this was a thoughtful little sign as I had wondering what all the firing noises were.

    A little valley, although all of this land is private (despite Komoot trying to route us through it).

    This is the bridge on the A1067, which bypasses Attlebridge.

    The old road bridge at Attlebridge, there are two separate bridges which are both now closed to vehicles.

    The second of the bridges, from which the village takes its name. There has likely been a bridge here since the medieval period, but a stone bridge was constructed in 1668. This bridge was in turn replaced in 1913, with the new one being quite mundane, but apparently some of the stone from the older bridge is still underneath. I have to confess that I didn’t have a little look.

    When I was here a few weeks ago I didn’t come down to look at the bridges, so I was pleased to see them this time. It must have been quite a challenge for vehicles before a bypass was constructed, there doesn’t seem to be much space here to pass.

    Interesting place for such a sticker, on the old Attlebridge bridge.

    This is St. Andrew’s Church in Attlebridge and the stone in the niche on the left-hand side of this photo contains stonework found by the old Attlebridge crossing. It’s thought that this stone was once the plaque that sat on the parapet of the bridge, which suggested it was a much grander affair than what is there now.

    Another photo of the church as we walked by.

    From Attlebridge we walked a bit of Marriott’s Way (again), the former railway line from Norwich. This route is easy walking and that’s why we’re taking this path in for our 100 efforts in a few weeks. On that point, we’re still a little nervous of how far we’ll get, but we’ve rather stopped thinking about it now as we don’t want to get pre-annoyed before we’ve even starting walking.

    There are some really interesting art installations along Marriott’s Way, along with what I consider to be a few rather less impressive efforts such as this. But, everyone has different views on art.

    The River Wensum looking towards Norwich.

    And, on the other side of the bridge, the River Wensum looking towards its source. I liked how this tree has managed to get its roots bending around the wall.

    What I considered to be an intriguing tree arrangement.

    Some old rail and sleepers, a reminder of what this path used to be.

    The remains of Lenwade railway station platform which closed to passengers in 1959, but remained open to freight until 1983. If it could have lasted a few more years, it’s possible that the line might have been saved and returned to passenger usage. That is now highly unlikely ever to happen, but at least remnants survive to help bring the past back to life.

    We left the Marriott’s Way to join the Wensum Way, a conveniently named path for our expedition today. The LDWA have more information about the Wensum Way for those who fancy walking it.

    The former entrance to Lenwade railway station, which is now a private residential property.

    Walking along the Wensum Way, the river reappeared to our right.

    The quite impressive Lenwade mill, a large structure dating from the late eighteenth century.

    The Bridge Inn which has been trading since the late eighteenth century, and we were slightly saddened that we couldn’t go in it. Only a few weeks left until they open though as I may have already mentioned. Credit to the owners over the years for keeping this going, it must have been challenging in recent years.

    I was surprised to see one pub still trading in Lenwade (or Great Witchingham, they seem to run into each other), let alone two, this is the former King’s Head, now known as the Queen of Hearts. It’s been open since the 1830s and I think it operates as more of a restaurant now. I wasn’t taken by the imagery they’ve got on the signs, might need to take a photo of a more decadent roast. On which point, Nathan spent most of the day telling me how he was making a roast tomorrow and how talented he was at making them (he didn’t say that last bit, but I could tell that he was thinking it).

    We were considerably disappointed to see that this was shut. We hadn’t expected it to be there, so we hadn’t exactly been looking forwards to it all day, but there was a moment of excitement as I quite fancied some chips and a battered sausage. It should be a criminal offence to operate a fish and chip shop and not open it every lunchtime.

    We turned down Common Lane to go and find our river.

    Some of the signage by the cricket ground has seemingly been deliberately broken down and the path system here is a bit muddled. Nathan navigated this with some ease, and I’m sure he’ll be grateful that I’m throwing more glowing praise in his direction.

    Nathan bravely and nervously led us through a courtyard packed with cows, and we were protected only by the big metal gates…….

    Some form of sculpture. Nathan reassured me that it wasn’t real, which I ignored as he seemed to think that he had found the village idiot when telling me that.

    There was a warning on the gate that the boardwalk here was a bit broken and that didn’t seem ideal, but we saw other people walking in the area. We did have to navigate over this bit of wood in the water, whilst pondering how some of our more clumsy friends would have fallen in. We missed them quite a lot at that point and would have very much liked them to have been there.

    More not ideal boardwalk….

    This bit was better.

    This path took us near to Sparhamhill and this all felt quite remote, as Marriott’s Way had been a little busier.

    This is a really lovely area, somewhere that I’ve never been before (or if I have, I’ve promptly forgotten it), Sparham Pools. There were a few people walking around this area and it’s all quite nicely laid out with signage. It’s a nature reserve operated by the Norfolk Wildlife Trust and it was once a gravel pit. The trust’s web-site says that it’s a great place to see grey wagtails, although I struggle to identify a pigeon from a dove so I doubt that I’d recognise one.

    This is where we ended our walk today, at Lyng, but I’ll start the story of that village at the beginning of the next walk.

    I was very lucky to have Nathan who is a bus expert, which meant that he was able to skillfully guide us towards a bus stop where we would have a minimal wait to get the Fakenham to Norwich bus back home. What a relief I thought to be able to be whisked back home with no more walking or waiting. To cut a long story short, we walked for another two miles and then sat at Lenwade bus shelter for over half an hour. I didn’t say anything, I thought that might be impolite given Nathan’s efforts and I didn’t want to cause a scene.

    All in all, a rather lovely little adventure. I did forget about the river a bit today, since we were often separated from it, but I might get an emotional attachment back again when we get nearer to its source.

  • Fritton – St. Catherine’s Church

    Fritton – St. Catherine’s Church

    I never knew about this church in Fritton, and indeed, nor did I even know that there are two Frittons in Norfolk. I’m a little surprised that one of the Frittons wasn’t renamed East, West, Great or something to avoid confusion. What I did discover here, and I might mention this again later, is that I’ve decided this is one of my favourite churches, it is absolutely beautiful.

    The lych gate, with ‘lych’ being the Saxon word for a corpse, as this is where coffins are placed during part of the funeral service.

    The church is reached down a small lane, or loke, and the churchyard looked all rather welcoming with daffodils.

    There’s a round tower with the bottom two thirds likely being early Norman and the top third is a medieval repair or reconstruction.

    This is the now blocked Norman doorway on the north side of the church.

    The chancel end of the church has had something of a Victorian repair, and some work appears to have previously gone on to increase the height.

    I’m not sure that I entirely understand what has happened here in terms of when the church was repaired and restored. A closer inspection shows that there is a brick frontage of much of the nave’s exterior, but that isn’t how it would have been built. It seems that there was a substantial repair during the seventeenth century (some sources say the eighteenth century), which is an unusual time for churches to be restored, giving it quite a unique appearance. The scale of the repair can’t be underestimated though, it seems that they thoroughly rebuilt the walls, but the inner section remained intact as the survival of earlier wall paintings testifies.

    There’s a drawing at Picture Norfolk, and there is quite an effort to maintain copyright here which is unusual for an older print, so I’ll just link to it, but it shows the church in the mid-nineteenth century.

    Entrance to the church is now through the early medieval porch on the south side of the church, with the holy stoup visible on the right of this photo.

    Graffiti, which is probably medieval (but might be from last year for all I know) on the south door.

    The door is fourteenth century and the initials of church wardens have been placed onto the metal strut.

    The beautiful tiles, which I assume are Victorian or older.

    A guidebook in the church mentioned that this recess in the north wall would have marked the site of an Easter Sepulchre which is where the Consecrated Host would be “buried” between Good Friday and Easter Day. This is a relatively simply version and there’s some evidence of wall painting near to it.

    A consecration cross.

    Looking down the church from the tower end. George Plunkett took a photo here in 1939, but not much has changed in the last 500 years, so there’s little difference since he was here eighty years ago.

    There’s an area where some of the wooden panelling has been taken off the wall, revealing something of a damp problem. The church has only recently had electricity installed and before relied on Calor Gas, which has apparently caused some of these issues.

    The ladder to the church tower. There are three bells in the belfry and they all date to the sixteenth century.

    The font is from the fifteenth century and has smiling lions. That’s quite a jolly little set-up.

    There’s no shortage of wall paintings in this church, these two were discovered later than the others.

    This panelling on the screen is from the early sixteenth century and although some of the faces have been vandalised either during the Reformation or during the Civil War, it’s still in excellent condition.

    More images of the screen.

    The rood screen, which was added in 1913.

    Looking back down the nave from underneath the screen.

    The chancel.

    The rood stairs are still in place, but have often been filled in to some degree at many churches.

    All still intact.

    This depicts St. Christopher and was funded by John Alward and his wife in the early sixteenth century.

    I rarely know what wall paintings are supposed to represent as they’re so faded having been covered in whitewash. This takes little initiative to identify as George and the Dragon, a reminder of when churches were bright places to be with lots of colour on the wall.

    The walls of this church are quite thick, and it seems that every space had some form of wall painting on it. I did think about the man (and I assume it was a man) who painted this several hundred years ago, wondering whether he considered how long it would survive for.

    My final thoughts is that this church is magical with its fine wall paintings, its heritage and it had a warm atmosphere. Sometimes the Church of England don’t perhaps do enough to open up their churches to the communities that they serve, but the local vicar and parish seems to have fully engaged with the wider community. Definitely one of my favourite Norfolk churches.

  • Homersfield – Homersfield Bridge

    Homersfield – Homersfield Bridge

    This is the path up to Homersfield Bridge, where there has been a crossing for centuries, but the current structure was constructed in 1869. And for those who like concrete (I’m sure that it has a niche following), this is one of the earliest concrete bridges in the country. This is also the county border, so this side is in Suffolk and the other end is in Norfolk.

    Clicking on this image will make it appear in a larger size and it shows where Church Lane crosses the river (this older bridge) and where the new B1062 bypasses Homersfield.

    The bridge was designed by Ipswich architect Henry Eyton and was installed by Messrs W & T Phillips of London, under the supervision of Sir Shafto Adair. Adair was the Baronet of the Flixton Estate and the coat of arms of his family is attached to the bridge. Since he paid for it, it seems only fair that he gets to put his family crest on the side. Adair also ensured his initials of SA were placed on the balusters and Eyton also added a panel with his name on it (he added several, perhaps he thought some would fall off).

    The bridge could support a weight of around 200 tons, although it seems that this was a bit made up as they had no way of testing it. Before the bridge opened to the public they put a heavy roller with four horses on the structure, as well as a waggon with flour sacks and two more horses. They were delighted that the bridge didn’t fall down, but their test involved just 5 tons of weight, somewhat off their maximum.

    There was a toll for vehicles to use the bridge, to recover at least some of the costs, but it has always been free for pedestrians to walk across. There was a slight problem with this though insomuch there is a passable ford that can be driven through near to the bridge, as long as the water isn’t too high. The local press reported in 1933 that some vehicles were getting stuck in the water in order to save paying the toll to use the bridge. Slight disaster also hit the bridge in that year when someone drove off rather too quickly after paying the toll and they managed to take part of the bridge with them, which it’s fair to say isn’t ideal. The estate worker got the details of the car’s registration plate, but the driver did a bit of a hit and run and cleared off before his name could be taken.

    The bridge crosses the River Waveney and it was part of a restoration effort in the 1980s after it had rather fallen into disuse since the construction of a new bridge. An excellent job was done, although proving ownership of the bridge was difficult and a compulsory purchase order was required in the end.

    A little dirty, but this is a rather useful and informative sign about the bridge.