Guannock Gate, The Walks, King's Lynn

If you spin around from where yesterday's post was taken you'll come across this handsome arch cum folly cum historical reconstruction that I showed before at night.

I'll post again a link to more about this here.

Bandstand, The Walks, King's Lynn

Wouldn't you know it, you post one bandstand and along comes another; this one in the Walks. This is on what looks like an island surrounded by the much abused Gaywood River, a special place given a special name: Vancouver Garden after George Vancouver who, well why not let the plaque do the talking ...

From what I gather this place in the Walks is the site of an open air swimming pool now long gone.

Nelson Street and Devil's Alley, King's Lynn

I guess all towns have their stories to keep the visitor wondering if his hosts are quite as sane as they appear. So it should not come as a surprise to hear that the Devil himself once came ashore here, at the back of Nelson Street, to collect souls or whatever a devil collects (maybe toilet paper and hand sanitizer, who knows?). Anyhow being as well known as he was (he face was in  every church and chapel, in those days) he was spotted by a priest and told to get himself gone and given a shower of holy water for his pains. Such an unfriendly reception displeased the old devil and he stamped his cloven foot leaving a mark which you can see to this day ... or so it is said.

Devil's Alley, which leads down to the river, is where all this happened and the tale must be true as a familiar of the devil still haunts old Nelson Street to this day.

 

Bandstand, Hunstanton

I've said it before that no place with any sort of get up and go can afford to be without a bandstand. So what if it sits (or is that stands?) there empty for 99.9% of its miserable existence; it is a testament to where a town wants to be ... a bandstanded kind of place. And so what if when it is actually being used for it is intended (and not as trysting place for malfeasance)  no-one stops to listen; they just think a band playing on the prom by the seaside on that one warm day in July (Tiddely-om-pom-pom!) is just so right and fitting that they float on by in a nostalgic revery.

The weekend in black and white is here.

Groyne Strain

Now there can few pleasures as great as a stroll on a beach on a chilly, cloudy day in late February, especially when the wind is blowing at a steady 30 mph and gusting fit to lift you off the ground and dump you in another county. Such delights are best taken in short measures and so I didn't overindulge my stay on Hunstanton's famous beach. It's a funny old beach for a seaside resort; you might imagine miles of golden sand but this is split into short stretches by numerous groynes and the sand is well peppered by vast numbers of large pebbles in various sized and colours, red, white and creamy, having come from the cliff whereon sits the lighthouse. (I didn't have the opportunity to see the cliff from the beach but I saw it many, many years ago and can confirm that it is indeed two toned; red and white). Generations of youngsters and oldsters have enjoyed the beach over the years so it can't be all that bad.

Don't ask what the poles with odd attachments at the end of each groyne are for because I haven't a clue.

Alios delectare iuvat

Something I noticed during our short stay in Norfolk are the delightful, decorative signs that adorn villages and towns in these parts, usually depicting a motto and a scene from the history of the place or some local landmark. Hunstanton's features the famous sun setting over the sea, that I (and everybody else) mentioned, and old Edmund and his wolf. The motto, as you no doubt know, means "It is our pleasure to please others". Sunny Hunny certainly pleases.

You can see a collection of these signs here.

This, for comparison , is what we have across the road for Cottingham. A bit small and dull.

The Lighthouse

A sign on the gate says there's been a lighthouse here on the cliff top over Old Hunstanton since 1665 though some suggest that a hermit, one Thomas Cooke, was paid by the local bigwigs, the L'Estranges (We met a L'Estrange a few days ago), back in 1530's to keep a light from the chapel that I posted yesterday; lighthouses being more helpful than churches as someone once said.

Trinity House took over the running of all UK lighthouses in 1836 and this building went up in 1840. This is the Trinity House coat of arms.

It's always nice to have some claim to fame even if this is disputed ...

The lighthouse as you can see is no longer functioning and is in fact a holiday cottage. You'll want to a look around inside, no doubt; well you're in luck as there's a video that I'll post just for completeness and the catchy (mindless) tune.