Bacton Green to Eccles on Sea and return

I wrote about the coastal erosion in this part of Norfolk when describing our last walk on the England/Norfolk coast path and today the effects of erosion were much in evidence. Today's destination was a village that no longer exists in its original form; it has been swallowed up by the sea. En route we explored Happisburgh, ranked by the Environment Agency as the worst hit by coastal erosion in the UK. It is sad to think how much land has fallen into the sea in my lifetime and to reflect on how different it will be in the short, medium and long-term future. However, this was a lovely walk, slightly less varied than the last leg because our outward and return legs were almost the same. Today we had sunshine in the morning then it clouded over a bit. It was quite windy, which made the sea exciting, and we saw the beach between Bacton and Walcott at two different states of the tide which also added interest.

At least in terms of driving time, this section of coast is about as far as any from our home on the other side of Norfolk, and it took us about an hour and a half to get to Bacton, travelling by way of the A47 then cutting up to the A1270 "Broadland Northway" past Norwich Airport, and eventually taking more minor roads to North Walsham and beyond. As I have said before, it is shocking how little I know of the county that has been my home for more than 30 years and I enjoy drives like this, as well as our walks, as an opportunity to get to know the area better. We got (free) parking at TG343343 on Beach Road in Bacton Green. I was delighted to find a particularly well maintained toilet block nearby, then we walked back down to the coast, at the point was had left it last time we were here. It was about 9.50 when we set off walking.

We're conscious that some sections of the footpath round here may be rather damp, if not impassable, at high tide (though there are usually inland equivalents) so we're in the habit of checking the tide times before leaving home. However, the alignment of a free day for walking, limited hours of daylight and reasonable weather with low tide can be tricky. That's my roundabout way of saying that it was only very slightly after high tide at Bacton. This meant that we couldn't walk on the beach on our outward leg, but it also meant that the whole walk was completed on a falling tide, which could be argued to be the safest option. The official route between Bacton and Walcott is along the top of the sea wall in any case, but this has become sand covered, so when we got the opportunity we descended to the concrete path at the base of the sea wall. We were both trained as physicists, so we enjoyed watching reflection and interference effects when waves hit the sea wall at an angle.

Walcott is known for its rare (round here) section of coast where the road runs right by the beach and our sandy path emerged onto the pavement. We continued alongside the road, on the other side noting the fish and chip shop (which gets rave reviews) and another toilet block. This is another place where we could have parked without difficulty today, but apparently it can get busy (as no doubt does our spot in Bacton). All the way along there were good views of the beach, and I spent some time trying to get a good photograph of a seagull on the sea wall with the beach beyond. All the way from Bacton to the point we'd reached, this thing I've described as "the sea wall" had been a concrete construction with a slope heading towards the coast as it descends from the top (our path) to the horizontal slab almost at the level of the beach. I think that means it is actually a revetment (which Wikipedia defines as a sloping structure placed in such a way as to absorb the energy of incoming water). Here a timber revetment on the beach took over and there was no path along the top of the low cliff.

We could, in principle, have continued onwards on the beach but given the state of the tide this would have been risky. So we followed the road inland, getting a closer view of Walcott Church which we had seen in the distance for many miles as we'd walked along the coast (it had appeared to be straight ahead of us, but it is actually about a kilometre inland). We turned off into a holiday village in an area labelled "Ostend" on the map. There were some small chalet-type houses, but many were rather more permanent structures and, closer to the coast, there were some really quite upmarket-looking places; very nice for a holiday I'm sure, but I wouldn't want to own a property that close to a cliff round here. Our route through the houses brought us back to the coast and there followed a lovely section of cliff-top walking towards Happisburgh. There were good views ahead to Happisburgh Church, but the light meant it was difficult to photograph. As if to compensate, the views back to Walcott Church across the fields were also good, and much easier to photograph.

Happisburgh means "Haep's Town " and it is pronounced "Haysbro". It's an interesting place. We've bought ourselves a copy of the fascinating book "A history of Norfolk in 100 places", published just a month or so ago. This features not one but two sites in Happisburgh. The first of these, the "Happisburgh footprints" have been found alongside other palaeolithic remains originating between 780,000 and 900,000 years ago, providing evidence of human occupation in what is now the British Isles considerably earlier than had previously been supported by definitive evidence. Apparently footprints were first discovered on Happisburgh beach in 2000, but they were eroded away, while more were found in 2013 - and have also since eroded. Whatever, the deposits containing them, the Hill House formation, is down a narrow section of beach, north of the Church, so with knowledge of the state of today's tide, we had already given up any hope of looking for ancient footprints.

As we approached the village, the signs of erosion were everywhere to see. We discovered later that we were crossing what has been (and possibly still is in the summer) a caravan site, and there were remains of roads and infrastructure (concrete slabs, pipework etc.) hanging over and protruding from the cliff). When Ruth Livingstone walked here in 2010, she climbed up from the beach to the clifftop by way of a flight of metal steps on a sort of scaffolding tower. That is no more; the only access to the beach is now by way of a ramp from the car park. As we continued, our route was somewhat diverted, but it led past Happisburgh Manor (an Arts and Crafts House also known as St Mary's) to a road, then back towards the coast. Just past a boarded up bungalow, the road ended abruptly in an overhang. We reached the car park...and realised that the ramp to the beach is also closed, though thankfully only temporarily, for "realignment" following - you've guessed it - erosion. Just as well, that we had already given up on the Hill House formation.

The other entry pertinent entry in our book is for Happisburgh Lighthouse, built in 1791, and although this doesn't reopen to the public until the Spring, it was much easier to see than the footprints! Happisburgh doesn't immediately seem an obvious place for a lighthouse as there are no offshore rocks etc., but the hidden danger is the Happsiburgh Sands, 14 km out to sea. Even with the lighthouse and others along the coast, HMS Invincible, on its way to join Nelson's fleet in the Baltic in 1801, became grounded and sank, with the loss of 400 of its crew of 595. Our route continued out of the village along the cliff top, with the lighthouse to our right. There were attractive views to the lighthouse and down to the beach. There was a wartime pillbox near the lighthouse and between us and the cliff. I went inside and managed a good photograph of the lighthouse from the pillbox's look-out window, but what I didn't realise at the time was that this particular pillbox has been advancing towards the coast at a frightening rate (reckoned to be about 3 metres a year) and at that rate it is estimated only to have months left at the top of the cliff.

We continued along the cliff top then headed slightly inland to a track behind a row of houses which were between us and the sea. Most of the buildings were of a wooden construction, giving them a shack-like appearance, though I suspect some are actually quite upmarket. We crossed an access road to the car park and beach at Cart Gap and headed back towards the coast. The tide was still quite high and it was only just possible to get onto the beach without getting wet feet, but plenty of people were managing it and heading back in the direction of Happisburgh. We wanted to go the other way, and the route of the path was not immediately clear. There was a footpath sign pointing through the dunes between the car park and the concrete sea wall, but no access to the path (though we later saw a couple of walkers edging their way in that direction) and we eventually saw signs asking us not to disturb the dunes and telling us that the route of the coast path is aligned along the beach at this point. Walking on the beach was not a realistic option, so it was back to walking along the concrete "promenade" at the base of the sea wall. It wasn't the most exciting of walking, but it was only a few hundred metres to our destination, which we identified by the fact it is access point 29 from the beach.

The fishing village of Eccles on Sea was here once, but the village, complete with its 12th Century round-towered church, made its way inexorably into the dunes, and onto the beach before being washed away. The name "Eccles" even refers to an early Christian settlement. Now the sea wall protects all that remains, which from what we have seen so far is just the "Bush Estate", which started as a very basic holiday village, though some of dwellings have been apparently been rebuilt as more permanent structures, about 50% of which are occupied year-round. The signposting implies that the Norfolk Coast Path heads inland from the coast here, then round behind the Bush Estate, but that's not what the map shows; the route on the map is shown continuing along the coast, though there is an alternative route slightly inland all the way from Cart Gap to to Sea Palling, presumably for use at high tide. The correct route from this point is a concern for another day, for now we were heading back to Bacton.

Our return route was essentially the reverse of the outward leg, but we did manage some variation. To start with, rather than returning along the sea wall to Cart Gap, we took the alternative slightly inland route behind the dunes and the row of houses. At Cart Gap we took advantage of a bench at the east-most "Discovery Point" of the Deep History Coast Discovery Trail on which to sit to eat our lunch. Then, at Happisburgh, we took a diversion around the village, passing the entrance to the lighthouse and returning past a modern estate with the lighthouse popping up rather idiosyncratically behind. We visited the church, learning that many of those who drowned when the Invincible sank are buried in the churchyard, and also that the church was bombed in the Second World War, which explains a distinct shortage of stained glass. It was breezy in the churchyard with good views of the coast; it must be spectacular from the tower (occasionally open to the public, but not today).

After retracing our steps to and through the holiday village at Ostend, we went down onto the beach and walked along there all the way to Bacton, with a brief trip back to the road at Walcott in order to visit the toilets, which we located precisely by means of the lovely smell of fish and chips, from the shop next door, which wafted its way down to the beach. Back on the beach, the view at low tide was amazingly different from the one we'd had this morning, and although there were other people about, there was plenty of space. I loved this section. I did however fail to notice that the concrete slab at the back of the beach was getting increasingly far above it, so I had a bit of a clamber which amused Richard. We had a good journey home.

Following leg