Day 3: Sporle to Harpley Dams

Weather: Partly sunny and warm, strong following wind

Distance covered today: 20.0 km (12.4 mi)

Last night's B&B: Corfield House

% Complete: Cumulative distance: 39.1 %: 63.3km

GPS satellite track of today's route: Day 3 (click!)

You may have noticed the absence of an apostrophe in “Peddars Way”.  This is not a grammatical error; it seems that there is nothing possessive about Peddars. There is an argument that Peddars Way is simply a tautology: “Peddars” may mean nothing else than “footpath”! Certainly, the derivation may be related to “pedester”, the Latin word for someone who walks (i.e. me!). Indeed the origin of the Way is something of a mystery, but although it was a Roman Road, it seems to have predated the Romans and was part of a path, known as the “Greater Ridgeway”, which runs from Lyme Regis on the South West Coast to Hunstanton on The Wash. This would have been very much earlier and relates to the original tribes who occupied and fought over the lush lands of southern England: think Stonehenge and its ilk.

Specifically though, as you now know, the Way itself starts near Thetford, and I learned from my taxi driver on my way to the start, something that changed my comprehension of history. Thetford was the location of Boudicca’s palace, and as you also know, she was the scourge of the Romans. (I used to know her as Boadicea. I have no idea why she changed her name? Women do that!) Her husband who had tried to get along with them, died, and they cut up rough and did nasty things to the Iceni tribes whom he had ruled. She objected strenuously, beat the Romans up locally and then invaded London, as one does. Unfortunately, a wily Roman general called Suetonius had her number and rather nastily defeated her.

Now I have always assumed that my wife, Veronica is a direct maternal descendant of Boudicca. It runs directly through the maternal line.  She looks like her, acts like her and takes just as few prisoners. She is also handy on a horse! She takes no nonsense from men. She isn’t into politics. Direct action is her way. The fit is perfect, but my taxi driver ruined it for me! He told me that when Suetonius was about to do her in, she poisoned both of her daughters so that they wouldn’t fall foul of his evil intentions.  Now, I can imagine many occasions in which Veronica would gleefully have poisoned her daughters, especially when they were waging Boudicca-like war on each other, but if Boudicca’s daughters didn’t survive, my maternal lineage argument seems a trifle flawed….

So much for history.  Things fell apart a bit today, mostly my own fault! When I took the first photo of the day, I realised that I had left the memory card in my netbook back at the B&B. The last time I made that mistake was June 2011, when I was climbing to the highest point on the Pennine Way and I swore never to make the same mistake again.  Today, I was about 3km (2mi) from the B&B, which is tricky territory. It’s possible to go back, but it’ll add at least an hour to the day. Is it worth it?  This time though, I had my smartphone as back-up and decided that would have do.

In the event it was a poor decision! There are no villages between Sporle and the North Sea at Hunstanton, 42km (26mi) away.  Accordingly, I had an agreement with my host at the B&B to collect me half-way along the route, take me back to the B&B and deliver me back to the halfway point tomorrow morning. I arranged to call him when I arrived, but in the event I got there much earlier than he had anticipated, and there was no reply when I called!  I spent an hour reclining on my back on the grass in the middle of a traffic island, listening to Davis Cup tennis on my radio and acknowledging the cheery hoots of passing motorcyclists and the odd lorry!  I could usefully have used that time to return to the B&B earlier in the morning to collect my memory chip after all!

So what! There is something very satisfying about lying down face up in the grass on a warm spring day, after a 20km (13m) hike, especially after a very wet and internally focussed winter! Veronica would probably argue that I should try acting my age!  Boudicca would have agreed!

What it looks like if one doesn't remove the flints

A finger post with a difference!

A dandelion flower. A farmer approached me from behind as I took this shot. He put his head back and roared with laughter! He asked me whether I had ever seen one of them before? I said I had never taken a picture that did them justice....

Old Henery 8 has an enormous amount to answer for. These are the ruins of the Cluniac Priory at Castle Acre

The River Nar, an example of one of those beautifully clear chalk streams that I have always loved in Norfolk 

Another picture of the Priory

And yet another. What a magnificent palace!  Those guys must have had a lot of influence. I learned that Norfolk went Christian in the second century AD. Incredible!!

The Church of England survived rather better, at least until now! Who knows what the modern heathens will do?

The beautiful village of Castle Acre

And Castle Acre's castle with its impressive moat

So now it's a straight 40km run on a Roman Road to Hunstanton. Not much to see except mechanised and industrial agriculture on all sides. Even the birds are diminishing!

Acres of agriculture, but still it is not the mid-west or the Orange Free State

And a straight Roman Road to the North