Day 1: Knettishall Heath to Thompson

Weather: Partly cloudy and warm

Distance covered today:18.8 km (11.7 mi)

Last night's B&B: Wereham House

% Complete: Cumulative distance: 11.9 %: 18.8 km

GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 1 (click!)

Open country at last! Fresh air and distant horizons! Well, not quite. This is not exactly news, but it is surprising to me that way up here at the top of Suffolk, I’m still in the Big Smoke! Reacting to criticism, the Met Office sent out a slightly defensive message earlier saying that the smog was as bad in practice today as they had predicted, and for this region in particular, they were predicting an Orwellian 10 on a scale of 0 to 10! Apparently, sandstorms in the Sahara are partly to blame; the same sandstorms that fertilise the Atlantic fisheries and the Amazon Rain Forest.

Africa is not the only culprit. The unseasonal South Easterlies are blowing all that European smog our way as well. Not only are all those EU migrants bearing down on us from across the Channel, but now we have to put up with their pollution as well! I was listening with half an ear to the debate between Nick and Nigel last evening, and couldn’t believe afterwards that the polls show Farage to have won the debate 2 to 1!  How on earth can a right-wing, populist isolationist command such support in this sophisticated and blessedly liberal country? Of course as a foreign migrant myself, you might expect me to take this view, but it is still remarkable that the anti-European feeling is as strong as it is at present.

Though last night, as I wandered the streets of ancient Thetford, I was given pause for thought. As I expected, the streets were busy with young people, going in and out of bars and clubs, loitering on street corners and joshing each other. What really surprised me is that I heard not one word of English. I’ve come to expect this sort of thing in that cosmopolitan foreign country called London, but Thetford?!! I went into a pub for supper, and apart from a few earnest military types from one of the numerous military camps in the area, almost all the clientele was foreign; certainly everyone working there. Afterwards, I was idly searching for a convenience store to buy a sandwich for lunch today, and the only place I could find called itself a “European Supermarket”. I went inside, and the only products I could see came from Eastern Europe. There was nothing fresh. I couldn’t read the labels.

On my previous walks, I found that market towns of the size and character of Thetford had substantially retained their quintessentially English character. Although, there were foreigners around, sometimes many of them, they were essentially trying to adapt and integrate. Like me (!), they were trying to be more English than the English.  The problem emerges when the mass of people becomes so substantial that it overwhelms the local culture and there is no need to assimilate.  Combine this with the predictable effects on local infrastructure, job opportunities and remuneration standards, and it is unsurprising that the reaction is so strong.

The question remains; why is this such an English problem? After all, the East to West and South to North migrations are common to all of North West Europe. I think the answer is twofold, and the first goes to the slightly two-faced, but entirely endearing character of the English Gentleperson (if you’ll forgive the massive generalisation). The English are, in general, positively delightful to foreigners! Their good manners make the foreigner feel at home. In all the many countries in which I have lived, I have never seen such cordial welcome. The English may be seething with antagonism inside, but it remains exceedingly poor form to show it! Even the Americans, immigrants themselves in the land of the free, are nastier to their foreigners (though, surprisingly, not to their erstwhile colonial masters!). Try being Turkish in Germany, Indonesian in Holland or Zimbabwean in South Africa.  No wonder the Eastern Europeans queue up to come here!  If only they knew what the English really think!

The other problem is of course the darker issue of previous waves of immigration to the UK.  I read an article in the Economist recently which drew a distinction between the success of various communities where Caribbean, African and South Asian communities had successfully integrated into English society and those that hadn’t. In the first case, these upwardly aspirant incomers had very visibly enhanced the general welfare of local communities, culminating in successful inter-racial mixing, cultural sharing and economic success. On the other hand there exist communities where the sheer mass of incomers was so overwhelming that the locals who could, simply left. No effort was made by the immigrants even to learn to speak English. These communities can’t compete economically, many of their cultural mores offend English tastes, and sometimes English laws, and much of the youth are disaffected and resentful. English right-wing tabloids rejoice in bringing every transgression to common knowledge. A substantial majority of the English population doesn't want this to happen again. Hence their antagonism to the latest wave. 

A substantial irony is that many Scots, for slightly different reasons, feel the same about the English! But that is another story!

In the event, even as I set out this morning against the advice of the Surgeon General, having suffered my own myocardial infarction in 1994, I found that the threatened pollution didn’t seem to exist! The wind was from the East, and the sky was clear, if partly cloudy. I bounced along in a paroxysm of delight to be out on another adventure! I have the distinct feeling that the National Trails have been designed for my very own personal enjoyment. I saw one young lady out on a short walk with her dog, and she shyly acknowledged my presence. Apart from that I had the trail entirely to myself. Admittedly, today’s walk was undoubtedly the most scenically boring of any walk that I have done in all my experience of this magical country. But I knew that before I started, and it altered my exhilaration not a jot.

It may though have inspired this boring and trivially obvious political tirade. The English will be holding their noses!

The start of Peddars Way: Trepidation mixed with excitement!

English humour! (the sign originally would have said "Permit Holders"!)

Huge East Anglian monsters! This fellow was guzzling soil with its many flintstones, separating the soil from the stones, placing the clean soil on top and the stones in the deep ditches. Ingenious!

East Anglia is the driest and flattest part of Britain, and the most intensively cultivated. Impressive vistas, but not much going on! 

Sheik Al Maktoum's Riddlesworth Stud; said to be the most lavish in Europe! Of course, one couldn't see the stud itself...

Huge development in open country. The modern story of England.

A gentleman's path along the River Thet

Blackthorn may be poisonous, but the flowers are incredibly beautiful.

Forget about atmospheric pollution; I had these fellows for company! Where is Tom Archer when you need him?

Crossing the A11 from London to Norwich. Care required; these guys are moving!

A black and a white lamb for Phyllis!

I know the feeling!

East Anglia may be unlike any of my other walks, but some things stay the same! The smile of the postie in her little red van is ubiquitous! I love her!

Only in England!! No speed restriction on this national trail! Run if you want to!!

Another ubiquitous feature: yet another railway demolished by Lord Beeching in 1964. He got around....

Flintstone Houses and spring flowers in Norfolk

These beech trees have elephant feet!

The military is everywhere; just like Scotland

Spring is breaking out everywhere. Exquisite new leaves

The smallest pony field I have ever seen!

Tiny village, huge church; another ubiquitous feature of England. This one was right next to my B&B