Before this pandemic hit, we made a habit of getting out of the house and going somewhere once a week, just to give ourselves a change of scenery. That all stopped when the first lockdown order came through, obviously, and we haven’t been out much since – we don’t go out to beaches or museums or cafes during school holidays, as we have never been too fond of crowds – or badly-behaved children. The classic case was sitting at a cafe table on a crowded ferry, and having two shrieking children run across our backs and step on the table – just missing our plates.
We’re taking our chance to get out now, before the school holidays and the Epsilon, Zeta, Eta and Theta variants hit the UK. Bad move, by the way, naming virus strains according to the Greek alphabet. Which newspaper will be the first to carry the headline “The Omega Strain!”? Stock up your loo rolls now.
Last week’s trip out was to Brancaster Beach, on a hot and muggy day. We were led here some years ago, on a cold and windy February day. The beach is miles long, with fine sand, a car park, a beach shop (that serves bacon baps, to my carnivore man’s delight) and toilets. Brilliant walk, though the tides can catch you out – even flooding the car park and approach road sometimes.
The car park was almost full when we arrived, and the beach closest to the entrance was full of people setting out their games of cricket, picnics, towels and sandcastles. I was told not to challenge the castle builders, as apparently sand-castles are exempt from the need for planning permission. There were some very inventive ones, and the adults were the major builders, with the toddlers more interested in the sea. People were respectful and we were never pushed into close contact.
We walked about a mile down the beach and slowly back. We’d bought just two hours’ parking rather than all day (the only choices – and I didn’t have eight pound coins for all day), so we had to walk back, but honestly – a mile from the entrance, the beach was almost deserted and very tempting. If we aren’t locked down again this autumn, I’m keen to come back when the weather turns cold and only the hardy want to visit the beach.
I should warn you – watch the tides, unless you are curious about what happens when the car park floods (hint – an average car will float in water just over knee height, and salt is not that friendly to car bodies). People have been cut off by the tide while paddling. Be respectful, too, as the car park is large but not infinite, and parking in the narrow streets of Brancaster Staithe is rude – and can earn you a scratched car from drivers trying to get past.
Brancaster, recommended, especially in autumn. Blows the cobwebs away.
Julia Chalkley 