28th October 2012
We picked an unfortunate weekend to visit North Norfolk. Autumn seems to have lurched into winter overnight, and far from the balmy evenings of late we found ourselves driving through sleet and temperatures of 2C.
Happisburgh looking east - this bay wasn't here in 1980.
Saturday dawned wild and windy, just the wrong sort of day to be effecting fence repairs for Mother Ahab, but at they say in Outward Bound - its not the wrong sort of weather, its just the wrong sort of clothes. So I donned my warm winter wear and pressed on with those pesky post replacements.
Happisburgh's last line of defence
With the battle of the fences won I went out to the coast to see the impact of the howling northerly winds at high tide. The water was crashing over the sand banks and Happisburgh (you say Haisbro) had lost yet more of its clifftop with old foundations dropping to the beach below. Its amazing to think that as a schoolboy one of my friends lived in a house withe was about 300ft beyond today's cliff edge, and there were gardens, another street and yet more houses beyond that. The sea must has taken 100 yards in 30 years.
Walcot's holiday beaches
Having been blasted off the cliffs we moved on to Walcot, a mile or two from the gas terminal at Bacton. Here the seas had thrashed themselves into a fury of creamy foam which was being hurled high over he road and the houses beyond. The sea is a scary place in conditions like this.