TanGental

The darned weather has been so foul I’ve had little opportunity to get out and about around our Suffolk base. But today, glory be and all that the sun put in a full appearance. Not one of its pathetic cameos either. It was 14C and jackets off too.

Checking my walking app I chose a circular around Fressingfield which is a few miles north and west from here.

Starting in the village by the church and pub the route took me along what was once the high street but now is pretty devoid of shops.

After a mile or so I headed north across less boggy than anticipated footpaths to a small wood and bridge.

Up a slightly rising slope and following hedges the scenery was beautiful probably because scenery has been scarce recently.

I crossed some fields enjoyed the occasional break when the path firmed up and a cool wind turbine thing.

I was just contemplating its purpose reaching no real conclusion when this socking gert propellers cargo plane thundered low overhead. Very odd. Maybe we’re attacking Iran or something.

Calming down it was back to paths and farms and straw bales before the path became more curated and I was back by the church.

All rather splendid.

Indeed the morning mist out of the backdoor was grand though Dog looks like I woke him up a bit too early.

He did enjoy the beach of course

I don’t know about you but it’s been pretty bloody grim weather wise. I don’t usually reach for Scottish vernacular but dreich sums it up nicely.

What to do? Reorganise my sock drawer?  Sharpen my extensive collection of HB pencils?

No, walk around Southwold from the water towers by the golf club, cross the marshes, splosh through the harbour, stopping only to buy some hot smoked salmon and return by way of the sunken path.

Hood up, audio book plugged in and only my nose exposure it was rather splendid.

Maybe you can form your own views.

Stage one: water towers to river Blyth

Stage two: the harbour and the river

Stage three the return path.

Sometimes a walk is like hitting your head with a stick. It’s better when it’s over.

Another day, another delightful Suffolk town. It has one of those celebrity claims as the home town of Ed Sheeran one of whose sings references the Norman castle. Apparently. Go have a look, or listen, if you’re interested.

Me, I was more taken with the town’s medieval backstory. Starting in the market square, my path wandered past an assortment of attractive houses, St Michael the Archangel’s Church.

Next after came this neat mural

and the madly gushing river Ore which popped up on a few occasions though the recent rains turned a cute tributary into a crazy mud coloured monster.

The town is full of independent shops and cafes. It passed the Textiliste’s badge of quality with a haberdashery too.

Leaving the retail part and its mural behind, I passed the somewhat sombre United Reform church and headed across the Fens.

Once upon a time this town had a railway and the Victorian station house has been repurposed while the Railway tavern still serves weary travellers of a different kind.

I passed this curio, Tomb House which seems to be a normal domestic property with its own front garden mauseoleum.

Skirting back round into the centre via a warren of small passages I headed for the highlight.

No, not the Two Mapies cafe but the Norman castle. It’s open at weekends so I will have to return but some of the grounds were open for a muddy wander. It’s pretty special – yes, Ed is right to celebrate it.

From there it was but a short hop past an ancient 1860s post box and a welcome coffee and bagel. It’s essential to refuel, you know.

Later, because he doesn’t deserve to be neglected, I took Dog to the beach, though by this time is was effing freezing. He didn’t seem to care.

We left off at the church. From the grand portico and narrow set of steps lead through a narrow passage to the market square. The route I took passed more of the beautifully preserved houses I explored last time. I also showed the carvings of kings on the side of the Kings Head pub. They are worth a repeat. You may want to expand the picture to consider the delightfully unflattering detail.

Now above the river my route took me to an old windmill, Buttrum’s Mill, a beautiful brick structure opposite the private boys’ school, with its stunning brick boundary wall. At the rather severe House of Corrections, there is a narrow set of steps that lead to some narrow streets.

Amongst the houses there’s a converted Baptist church that stands out. This lane leads to the market square with its old fountain and market hall. Another church St John’s interrupts the route to the river and from there back to the station.

It’s a beautiful town and worthy of a stroll. I meandered down the high street, though I was on the phone at the time so the images are lacking. I can say the shops were quirkily independent and local and attractive if that is your schtick. Me, cake and coffee do me.

But I will go back.