Hunstanton to Holme-next-the-Sea and return

So, there were just the two of us on Christmas Day, and we decided to return to previous practice and go for a walk at the coast. We had wondered about a stretch of the English Coast Path to the East of Cromer, which we hadn't walked before, but it was a bitterly cold day so we didn't want a long drive, so it would be better to stay quite close to home; Hunstanton it was! I've written the walk up under "England Coast Path" because although I have no intention of repeating most coastal walks we have already completed, even where the route is amended, but the Norfolk Coast Path, our 'local' coastal walk, is different. So, when that bit of the England Coast Path is opened (at the current rate of progress, I've no idea when that will be!) we will re-walk it. It's unlikely that the leg from Hunstanton to Holme will alter because it already runs right by the coast (as it did when we walked this way in 2012, though not on first walking in 2006).

We stopped to photograph the town sign, which illustrates Saint Edmund (who landed in Hunstanton in AD855) and the wolf (which according to legend stood guard over Edmund's severed head after he was killed by the Vikings). Then walked right down to the coast, following the promenade past the Sailing Club and then descending to the beach just in front of the town end of the famous white chalk, red chalk and carrstone cliffs. It was relatively low tide and sunny, if cold; there were good views to the wind farm off Skegness and we could also make out the Lincolnshire coast in places.

We climbed up to the cliff top and walked along, soon reaching the ruins of St Edmund's Chapel, and the old lighthouse and lookout tower of Old Hunstanton. We crossed the car park and passed our usual descent route to the beach beneath the cliffs, but on this occasion continued on the sandy path amongst the beach huts.

We soon passed the back of the Le Strange Arms and the Hunstanton Lifeboat Station (one of just four stations that operates a hovercraft, and the recipient of donations made in memory of Richard's father who died on Christmas Eve three years ago) and soon we were walking alongside the inevitable golf course with, somewhat to my surprise, a couple of players heading out onto the greens. The path we were on petered out, so we took a route across the dunes to an alternative path a short distance closer to the coast. Not too many years ago (almost certainly during the 32 years we have lived in Norfolk) there would have been just sea and sand to our left, but vegetation has now grown up, as part of a wonderful cycle of erosion and natural land reclamation that is so much part of the evolution of this section of coast.

We'd exchanged seasons greetings with occasional other people for the whole walk, but the growing volume gave us the first clue that we were getting close to Holme-next the-Sea (Family name "Holme-where's-the-Sea") and at the wide sandy track heading from car park to sea we turned around. As we retraced our steps, we soon realised there was a wider path, even closer the coast, and following this led us to the beach at Old Hunstanton, with other Christmas Day walkers appearing like Lowry matchstick figures in front of the cliffs in the distance.

We headed off the soft sand onto the harder slightly damp sand closer to the sea (though the sea was still some way away) and passed the various beach access points at Old Hunstanton. But to my childish delight we realised that because it was low tide we could stay on the beach all the way back to Hunstanton, walking beneath the cliffs. For all the years that we'd lived here, and the many visits to the beach at Hunstanton, Old Hunstanton, and Holme, this was the first time we had walked along the continuous stretch. It was most enjoyable and a fitting celebration of this unusual Christmas Day.

But it wasn't the end of the walk...We'd brought lunch with us and, on my insistence, a flask. We normally just carry cold water but for winter walks this year, when cafes will be shut, I'd decided we should carry a warm drink with us. But, almost inevitably, we found ourselves back in Hunstanton a bit before lunchtime and we hadn't opened the flask. So, as befits the Derby and Joan we are rapidly turning into, we sat on a bench in the centre of the seaside resort, drinking herb tea and eating mince pies before driving home for the rest of the picnic. For all the problems of 2020, Richard and I lead a comfortable and happy life. Not everyone is so fortunate, and it is impossible to forget those battling isolation and loneliness. In the late afternoon, whilst Richard cooked the turkey that the two of us would be eating for many days to come, I co-hosted a quiz for work, the STEM Faculty Executive having decided that we wanted to keep the community spirit alive over the Christmas closure period. Then, sadly, I heard the following day that my sister's husband had died in the evening of Christmas Day. This page is dedicated to the memory of Dr Derek Copley, 1940-2020.