Wells-next-the-Sea 4,00 p.m.
I couldn't go any further: exhausted. I've walked more than 20 km. Still 6 km to the B&B. Let's hope the little train from here (the beginning of The Bank: National Grid Reference TF 915 455) to the city centre is working.
At the beginning (NGR: TF 858 459) of the big dune after Burnham Overy Staithe I lost the track.
No sign post where to turn right. I wandered a little while and then I entered the wood that, spotted on the map, I used as a reference. From the wood I could find the track again.
From Holkham Gap, instead of sticking to the National Trail, following the suggestion of a nice Welsh Walker, I went to Wells along the beach turning around the West Sands and rejoining the official track just here at the parking.
Since I got to the coast, differently than along the Peddars Way - where I encountered very few people, here I'm meeting plenty of them with whom I often stop to chat. All pretty well-disposed towards walkers.
The most amazing meeting was this morning while I was looking for the track at Burnham Deepdale. Suddenly I saw a walker around 70, apparently not that firm in his legs. Wearing ordinary shoes and old garments and carrying an old and queer rucksack slanting on one side.
Holding one banana and a map in one hand and an old hand made staff with a strap in the other one.
He too was walking the Peddars Way and the Coast Path. On his rucksack there were stitched a lot of National Trail Badges. He told me he couldn't remember how many he had walked of. Probably a score. He was from Scarborough. We walked a little while together then I lost him when I stopped to put on something more warm because the sudden North gale.
By the way my Millet Cap revealed providential. The weather is wonderful today as well but a cold and strong gale blows from the North. I've been wearing almost all day trousers, shirt, waterproof jacket and cap.
Warham 8,00 p.m.
I'm sitting at the bar of the Three Horseshoes Inn (National Grid Reference TF 943 416). Fantastic! Everything hundreds of years old. Old wood everywhere. As a matter of fact it is rightly awarded by the National Inventory of Historic Pubs. One believes to be in Fielding times. The bar is even nicer than the restaurant lounge: convivial and charming families; even the dog seems from the 18th century.
The food is traditional English. No search of originality at any cost as it is the norm today.
Such a place is unbelievable in Italy.
It one of the aspects of Britain I love the most: the sticking to the tradition (not in conservative way); I mean not throwing away the good things for new ones at any cost.
It is really the most beautiful and genuine place I've found thus far in Britain and, probably, anywhere else.
The family near me has got a nice hairy light honey coloured dog.
I got a pint of local Norfolk ale and ordered Ham and lentils soup and Local crab salad.
In the restaurant lounge there is a cast iron oven.
My room to is pretty beautiful too: lot of wood; genuine and old. Even the details: knobs, mouldings, and so on.
I need to wait because the soup is burning. By the way I've been served with a brioche shaped bread: delicious!
The today trip seemed endless; it should have been 24/25 km but, because I lost the track, I've actually covered more than 27 km.
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