Peddars Way Blog 2009

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"and I being here have been part of all this caught & thrown like sun on water have entered into all around me"

Tom Perkins sculpture (on plinth beside Peddars Way)

Looking for a national trail that is short, flat (ish), straight (ish), peaceful, and not too challenging in Norfolk? The Peddars Way is it. The name alone is intriguing, evoking ancient and purposeful travellers. The Way seems to have been adopted from ancient origins by the Romans in their pursuit of bolshy Iceni - a fast track north to the sea, with pedlars, pilgrims, drovers, and latter day wanderers following on writing their blogs.

The Way is still remarkably straight from near Thetford to the north Norfolk coast at Holme, although the national trail has had to adapt slightly where the line of the original, or Roman, way has disappeared or is in alternative use.

The path avoids 21^st century civilisation for the most part, although occasionally peddars appear from a gap in a hedge to cross a road, or in search of a pub or a seat. Much like hobbits.

We travelled the 47 miles of the Peddars Way in July 09 – the easy way, staying in Bed and Breakfast accommodation and using the efficient “walk free” baggage transfer service. Planning was done using the excellent National Trail website and Bruce Robinson’s invaluable National Trail Guide “Peddars Way and Norfolk Coastal Path”. The two trails are distinctly different but are linked to form a 90 mile long distance footpath.

Day 1

Knettishall to Little Cressingham 14¼ miles

After a night being upgraded to the ghostly and sumptuous Tom Paine suite in the 15C Bell Hotel in Thetford, we were ready to take on the Peddars Way. Tom was born in Thetford in 1737, son of a Quaker corset maker, prior to writing his revolutionary “Declaration of the Rights of Man” and involving himself with both the American and French Revolutions. Unfortunately William Cobbett, who had gone to the USA to retrieve Tom’s bones, subsequently appears to have lost them.

But I will dance to Tom Paine's bones
Dance to Tom Paine's bones
Dance in the oldest boots I own
To the rhythm of Tom Paine's bones
I will dance to Tom Paine's bones
Dance to Tom Paine's bones
Dance in the oldest boots I own
To the rhythm of Tom Paine's bones

Graham Moore

Dick Gaughan sings 'Tom Paine's Bones

Leaving the attractions of Thetford (Tom’s statue, the river and several Lithuanian shops) we travelled to Knettishall Heath (in Suffolk, only just) and were pointed in the right direction for Peddars (roughly north) by our friendly taxi driver. Direction was confirmed by the first acorn symbol on the Peddars Way signpost. The starting point intersects with the Icknield Way and the Angles Way, but no Icknields or Angles were spotted.

The start

The first mile was the most socially exciting of the 47, as we met not only two wet black friendly Labradors and their owner, and a cyclist on his way to shop in Tescos in Thetford. Further social encounters were to be few and far between, but were all friendly.

Soon an endless “I’m a Peddar” song had been composed, intoned to the tune of Clementine :

“I’m a Peddar , I’m a Peddar

And I walk the Peddars Way

I’m a Peddar, I’m a Peddar

And it’s a glorious day!”

(and so on for 57 verses which fortunately have not been recorded for posterity)

The first miles through woodland and heath were very attractive and shaded on a warm sunny morning. We crossed the River Thet, alive with dragon flies and continued on a clear meandering path by field boundaries.

Seeing large lorries appearing to float through fields of barley, it was a relief to find it was only the A1066 crossing. A lovely woodland stretch followed by the Brettenham Heath nature reserve taking us up to the busy A11.

There had been promise of a “kiosk” here and maybe coffee - however there was no sign of this. There was however a lorry from Cumnock parked, and very posh toilets and picnic tables (the only picnic tables for the next 40 miles!)

Hurrying hobbit-like across the busy A11 the next obstacle was the Ely-Norwich railway line at the Shadwell level crossing,

Stonebridge (not to be confused with the mythical Scottish village of Stoneybridge in “Absolutely!) was reached in time for late morning coffee at the Dog and Partridge Pub.

The beer looked good but there was a long way to go so the excellent coffee was settled for.

We now headed along the track at the edge of the vast military area (17,500 acres) - described by Bruce Robinson as “enigmatic”.

There was a distinct lack of birdsong and activity, though we did startle a deer on the path. The Way was peaceful despite the odd Mildenhall jet overhead, and some military activity in the distance.

Thompson Water, with its collapsed pingos and nature reserve was the next stop, with swans, terns, dragon flies and a heron to observe, but no seats.

The footprints of our ancestors

Familiar as our own faces

Remote as fossils

Written on clay

And washed away

over & over

over and over

The last stage of Day 1 (1.5 miles) was rather hard going , with a headland path along field edges close to the fairly busy Brandon Road, and feet were protesting.

Sycamore House, which is on the Peddars Way itself, was reached at a respectable time however (5pm) and dinner taken at a hostelry in Great Cressingham (thanks to our friendly host and dog driving us there).

Day 2

Little Cressingham to Castle Acre (11¾ miles)

Much of the walking on Day 2 was on metalled roads, but there was very little traffic, and the walking was easy. Although the way keeps going north and is always fairly obvious anyway, the waymarking is excellent, which saves time at mildly doubtful junctions.

The first of many pigs were spotted (though not spotted pigs) and “oohs” and “ahs” expressed about the piglets hopping about.

We zigzagged through fields of wheat and barley, following the acorn signs, to reach North Pickenham, once the home of Thor ballistic missiles at the neighbouring airfield, now home to a to a more peaceful wind farm.

Henry VIII (something of a ballistic missile himself) seems to have met up with Catherine of Aragon here prior to a pilgrimage to nearby Walsingham in 1517.

North Pickenham had an attractive village sign featuring Norman and Anglo –Saxon warriors, a pub which was closed on Wednesdays till 4pm (it was Wednesday) and (remarkably) two seats.

There was a considerable lack of places to sit down on the Peddars Way –even suitable bits of ground were scarce – so North Pickenham scores highly here – especially the seat at the edge of a farmyard which had a sign welcoming anyone to sit on it. Rain threatened briefly outside North Pickenham, but disappeared again.

Following Procession Lane, back on the ancient way, there was an overgrown stretch abundant in nettles and giant hogweed, which needed to be cut back a bit for Peddars comfort – the only stretch on the way where this was a problem.

Then suddenly emerging from antiquity onto the A47 close to Swaffham, behold suddenly there was Mcdonalds in all its glory! However we resisted the politically incorrect big mac, indulging only in some very good coffee from a machine at a neighbouring petrol station. The machine was somewhat idiosyncratic emitting bursts of steam and strange rumblings, but the helpful shop assistant went the extra mile to help.

Hobbit-like we escaped the McDonalds compound by climbing over the fence and rejoined Procession Lane now more industrial, passing a battery chicken outfit with high security, then walking past a disused railway line where fridges had been dumped - most unpeddar like activity.

After that it was back to dreamy lanes past disappeared mediaeval villages and signs proclaiming the consequences of hare coursing, towards the amazing Castle Acre and Alison’s Old Red Lion.

The Peddars Way approaches Castle Acre in a roundabout kind of way, crossing the River Nar by a ford – the river is crystal clear – and there is a seat! However we hastened on as news had reached us of a splendid tea shop.

It was indeed splendid, and it took some time to savour the coffee and walnut cake before exploring Castle Acre more thoroughly. A very attractive fortified village, with a Motte and Bailey Norman castle, a huge Clunaic priory, an imposing church, pretty flint houses, 3 pubs, at least two tea shops and a mini supermarket shop that opens long hours.

Castle Acre village is the architectural and historical highlight of the Peddars Way.

In addition there is the Old Red Lion, a delight of a place - part hostel, part B and B, with cats and wind spinners in the cottage garden and Alison’s warm welcome to her very special place where home made wholemeal bread appears at breakfast with the toasted seeds and nuts, and you have the run of the kitchen. The yoga classes weren’t compulsory. We didn’t meet any other Peddars at the Old Red Lion, but there was a log book describing peddars’ experiences (and complaining about the lack of seats along the way!). This confirmed that other Peddars existed at least since we hadn’t met any. Breakfast was a social meal with walkers and cyclists, including a young woman cycling from Edinburgh to Norwich –now on her last lap. Castle Acre deserved more time than we had to give it.

Day 3

Castle Acre to Sedgeford (14¼ miles)

Bruce Robinson duly warns about the first stretch of road from Castle Acre which is long, straight and uphill, either on a road or just beside it. However there were pigs to watch and occasional diversions, such as finding a recent cache of tinned food - who left it? why?

Once we reached a trig point (wow!) we left the road and this straight section of the way went on and on and on – some on grass, sandy track, flint cobbles and some quiet tarmac lanes .

There was little distraction on Day 3, though we did meet a cyclist and a trail biker on the way. We resisted visiting villages close to the way as an additional two miles to fourteen was a bit much. We passed ancient burial mounds, startled hares, and saw yet more pigs, but this did seem the hardest day so far despite sustenance from wild raspberries and (tame) jelly babies. It was mildly hilly by Norfolk standards, which helped avoid always seeing the trail ahead stretching into the distance.

Near Hartley Dams (no dams) there was a “Dogotel” which looked very plush – presumably for high class dogs. However there was NOWHERE FOR PEDDARS TO SIT DOWN - at least till we came upon a big log courtesy of Sandringham estates who were blocking a section of the way to cars.

The Peddars Way had its own trail of death – wood pigeons, rabbits, frogs, and a deer placed at the side of a country road – and sadly a few piglets on the back of a truck with their trotters up –hopefully not swine flu.

It was a wrench to leave the way to go for our overnight in Sedgeford, but needs must. Another comfortable B and B with a power shower, homemade jam and fresh fruit for breakfast – which we shared with two friendly Australian Peddars Way walkers (at last!) who were heading to the coastal path to continue their walk. They had an equally isolated journey, meeting very few people on the Way. This is possibly because noone walks north to south on the Peddars Way, and most Peddars walk at the same speed?

Sedgeford was another attractive village, close to the coast, but apparently with no bus service unless you booked beforehand. The pub in the village had by far the best food we encountered since leaving Thetford.

Day 4 : Sedgeford to Holme next the sea (6¼ miles)

The last day was a pleasant morning stroll with grey skies threatening rain, but the Peddars’ god smiled on us as the rain didn’t start until we reached Holme. We cheated and took a minor short cut from Sedgeford to get back to the trail, using a disused railway line, past the remains of Sedgeford Station. The countryside was very open here after the many miles of enclosed paths on field boundaries. This gave a promise of the vast Norfolk coast skies to come.

The guide book mentioned Lucerne being grown here – now presumably part of the crop rotation originally introduced by Turnip Townsend just along the coast at Holkham. Having failed to identify any Lucerne, our attention was drawn to a puzzling section of marked off verge which claimed to be a “roadside nature reserve” but it looked exactly the same as the rest of the verge.The joy of the Peddars way is that these issues became of major interest.

Three young cyclists passed us on the way to Ringstead village, whistling politely to alert us to their approach. Ringstead is a sizeable solid community with church, pub, sign, shop and duckpond. Ringsteaders must be gardeners as the gardens were spectacular.

Just beyond Ringstead, before reaching a windmill, suddenly there was the sea in the distance!

Steps quickened and we zoomed down to Holme, across the golf course, and reached the official sign Peddars Way / Norfolk Coastal Path on the reddish sandy dunes.

Since the sea was about 2 miles out at low tide we didn’t actually go and paddle in it (a Wainright Coats to Coast path tradition).

Holme, another attractive village, is the seat capital of the Peddars Way. There were seats everywhere.

Walking the Peddars Way felt like a real achievement, short and easy though it was – and very different in character from the Coastal Path. Glorious though the coastal path is, the Peddars Way has its own identity, its ancient secrets, its purposeful aim for the coast. It should be treasured.

"As you walk the Peddars Way you find yourself becoming more and more aware of all the others who have trodden the same ground, whether they be Stone age Hunters, Roman Soldiers, or Medieval Pilgrims. But remember that you, walking in your time, are as much a part of everything that surrounds you as any other traveller has been. All the past that has led to your moment in time is held like a great secret in the landscape that surrounds you"

Hugh Lupton, Storyteller

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