The last day of summer was savoured by us with a decadent day out to the beach. We had nipped away for a few nights earlier in the season when weather was fair but not especially hot. When the forecast announced a whole day of wall to wall sunshine, featuring no breeze and a high of 30 degrees for a Tuesday we knew it would be our final opportunity to enjoy the heat. So we headed off to the beach nice and early in the day for a time of lazing on the sand and not much else. Having failed to get into my current read, I'd brought along another book which offered a more instant immersion and fast pace. 

I'll admit now that our visit to Hunstanton the other week absolutely knocked me out and I fell asleep in the car on the way home but considering we rolled up back home at 2pm I was feeling sleepy for the afternoon.
They say the sea air tires you out but why would it and how could it? Maybe because it's different air? I'd like some science behind this.
Taking a walk along the coastline is lovely and falls a close second best to laying on the sand in the sand reading or having a gentle doze. It does exhaust me when it's busy; what with catching snippets of other peoples' conversations and minding their wet dogs dashing round in circles. It is best appreciated when there's not a soul in sight but that's a rare treat and certainly not for the warmest weekend of the year when the coast becomes a magnet.

The roads into Hunstanton were jam-packed and busy getting into 'town' as we left. People would be sitting on the road for ages before reaching their destination. It pays to arrive early! We even parked on the free area. Lucky.


At first I thought this was bird poop on the rocks or even rabbit poop - rabbits can live in curious places but I've never actually seen any frolicking on the sand so maybe less likely. Turned out to be little snails or presumably sea dwelling snail chaps. Looks like my sieve-esque memory has filed the knowledge I gathered on this from my previous visit when I probably said the same thing.

Some weirdy finds. And curious rocks.







After outwalking the cliffs and reaching somewhere I couldn't name, we u-turned to retrace our steps. The breakfast eaten so much earlier was long since forgotten and rumbly tummies called out to be filled. I mooted fish and chips which would not only save us from the breeze but the seagulls and majority of the populate too. It was good to take a seat. We both enjoyed a sensible sized cod and chips from the place under the pier. As a former fish-hater, I persist in declaring that virtually all white fish are indistinguishable and REALLY cannot understand why chip shops doggedly cling to cod and haddock. Where is the coli, pollock and hake? They taste the same, are in plentiful supply and needn't carry the high prices of 'good old' cod and haddock - see your local fish counter for a price comparison. It annoys me no end.
Admittedly the main reason I now eat fish with chips instead of my previous stalwarts of sausage, fishcake or springroll is for the batter. Oh, how I love batter and now I don't mind the fish (I never said it was particularly nice, it's fine) I get to have yummy, scrummy batter. For a healthy* addition I ordered mushy peas and used copious ketchup. That's called balance, ahem.
*who cares

Plenty of interesting shells to spy but no seaglass.

Take care (and maybe take a nap yourself if the sea air penetrated your screen)
Sophie

It goes without saying that I'm biased about Norfolk but really, I cannot think of anywhere else that holds such diversity within it's bounds. From the sandy forests of the Brecks to the beaches of North Norfolk, the Broads, cliffs at Hunstanton and the changing texture of soil from field to field. There's a bit of everything. There are even a few hills if you lose yourself in the right places - just try cycling up them!
It's not often we head to the coast anymore; what with the allotment and general malaise around having to bother with busy roads and crowds we generally just 'don't' but at some point at Christmas we talked about heading to do a bit of fossil hunting this year. Sunday seemed the perfect day for it. Tides right, sunshine and a permitting schedule. We hit the roads after a leisurely start and arrived not long after 9:30am. It was quiet-ish.
I wore my now quite tatty all-round boots as I know from past experience that walking on the beach can trash footwear in sixty seconds flat. When we reached the exposed cliffs I was disheartened to see how much they looked like they had eroded. I don't know how much had fallen since our last visit but the amount of fallen rock on the beach was sad.
Curiously this chap appeared to be having a tidy up of the fallen rocks. See how he had collected the red rock and piled it separately? Wouldn't this be a futile activity as the tide will only come in and whizz it all over the place all over again in only a few short hours? I didn't like to ask.

I'll be honest, my expectations of finding any fossils pendulum from non-existent to 'there's a full dinosaur skeleton tucked away somewhere' but faced with billions of rocks to choose from there's nothing to set one apart from another.
The chalk rocks were willing to split open, especially those with a conveniently situated fault line. I didn't want to say crack but a crack.
Tah da! What's in here? Nothing identifiable except rock. I expect under magnification something would present itself but I'm expecting to see a full on example of a spiraled up sea creature or a dinosaur tooth.

You can see how the lighthouse doesn't look especially far back from the edge...
Birds were staking claims to the most meagre of ledges.
Tons of rock have been eroded...
Personally I hate going anywhere near the rock-face, it's so crumbly and precarious I just think there could be a collapse at any point which is terrifying. Sometimes you see families sitting on a rock at the foot of the cliff casually eating a picnic. I wonder whether they have even considered how ridiculously dangerous it could be? Or am I over-reacting? 
This was my favourite find which I am debating it's provenance. It's a rock I picked up. Now is it an imprint fossil of a limpet type creature or is it just where a metal brace has infused rust into the chalk? Either way I like it for having immediate interest.

A close up of the most 'interesting' opened rock. Is that something? A shell? No idea. Anyway, we didn't bring anything home with us. 
Upon our return we clocked the same chap still having a rock tidy-up. That's dedication to a cause.
More from sunny Hunny soon.
Take care,
Sophie

On Friday evening an idea popped into my head to make a trip to Brancaster beach one morning that weekend. We decided that Sunday would be most appropriate but sadly the tide timetable revealed that the tide would be high at 5:50am so a walk at the crack of dawn would be more of a paddle. An early dog walk and a detour for a spot of breakfast in hand, we arrived at around 10 or 11am. The beach carpark is a large one, which floods and the numerous puddles bore evidence of either much rainfall or tidal flow. At this point I feel the need to point out that the winter parking charges (we paid £1 for 2 hours) were particularly reasonable especially compared to Holkham's pricing we were gobsmacked about earlier in the month.
The wind was pretty blowy and from time to time it carried streams of sand along the beach, twirling and dancing as they flowed through the air. I couldn't capture it as I'd hoped.

A sea urchin shell. I think it was Brancaster where I first saw one.

Kezzie has talked about collecting sea glass many times on her blog over the years and I must confess I've never seen any. I mentioned this to C as we were heading out and from then on we kept a casual on the sand. It was quite some time later that I spotted a large piece of brow glass which we both dismissed as too big and too recent. After a little more determination I found a piece of what I presume was clear glass. C cleaned it up and pocketed it. I found another three pieces of the same but that was the sum total of our finds.

The big mussel shells were striking in their shades of purples and blues.


Prints!

This shell looked like a delicately painted piece of art. Hand illustrated. I do like finding pieces to marvel at (and they're everywhere).




There were millions of shells littering the beach. So fascinating.


Looking back at our prints on the sand, mine are on the left.

The Norfolk landscape is so varied; with beaches, marshes, warrens, open fields, forest, little hills, sandy cliffs, meadows, rivers... the list goes on. I love how immersive it is though, often with no sign of civilisation for as far as the eye can see.

I must make more of an effort to return to Brancaster this year, it really is a treasure.
Sophie