A Walk to Cley

A Walk to the Beach at Cley

We looked at a map (why did no one think of doing this before?) and realised that it is pretty much impossible to walk to the sea from Blakeney. I received feedback about my ‘by the sea’ cottage. The best way to reach the sea, is to walk along the road to Cley Next the Sea.

We set off with the dog and a supply of overly thin nappy-sacks that Husband had bought instead of doggy bags. Road was horribly busy. The dog always poops at inconvenient times, and the walk along the busy road was enhanced no end by also carrying flimsy bag of dog excrement.

Cley Next the Sea (I still cannot cope with the lack of preposition) is a pretty town with a windmill, tiny shops, and a narrow road that winds through the centre. The narrow road was very busy on Easter Saturday.

We stopped for ice-creams at what is possibly the slowest place ever to buy an ice-cream (very nice ice-creams though, if you have 3 hours to spare). While we waited, a small white VW approached the bend in the road, made a weird noise, and died. Instant traffic-jam.

Jay went and spoke to the driver, offering to push the car to a safer spot. A bolshy woman in large Range Rover behind the VW, honked loudly on her horn (perhaps she thought the VW driver had simply stopped for a chat). I went to speak to the Range Rover driver, to explain the VW was broken rather than incompetent. Driver of Range Rover rather rude to me. I slipped into ‘school-teacher-very-posh-you don’t mess-with-me’ voice (you never lose the ability) and very politely ground her to mincemeat. Family impressed by my telling-off abilities, even when holding flimsy pink bag of poop. (Actually, to be strictly honest, I think I had binned the poop by this point.)

I then went to save Bea, who was attempting to stop traffic from whizzing round blind bend where males were pushing car, whilst also holding 3 ice-cream cones, and a German Shepherd dog intent on snarling at a small white poodle.

Eventually, small VW was safely positioned in a side road, dog was back with me, ice-creams returned to owners, and bolshy Range Rover had driven off. As we left, we saw a coach approach the bend, which it couldn’t navigate due to a small VW being in the way…and all the traffic ground to a halt again. We left—someone else could solve that one.

We found the path to the beach. The beach is shingle, has a shipwreck in the sea, and has heaps of lobster pots and a few fishing boats. We walked towards Blakeney, but there wasn’t time to walk all the way to where the seals were—maybe next time.

Thanks for reading about our Easter trip, it was rather sad to leave Norfolk and drive home. Hope you have a lovely day.
Take care,
Love, Anne x

If you enjoyed this, why not read my travel book: The Sarcastic Mother’s Holiday Diary? Available from an Amazon near you, UK link is below (you can read it for free if you have a kindle).

Anne E Thompson has written several novels, available from bookshops and Amazon. She also writes a weekly blog — describing her travels, her animals, and life in general — why not sign up to follow her blog today?

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