More walking in the footsteps of ancestors as we head off to visit parishes on the outskirts of Norwich. One of these turned out to be right in the centre of the city, involving us in getting to grips with a multi-storey carpark, where, randomly, you had to go to the top floor to pay for you ticket before departure. We didn’t stay any longer than was necessary as our dislike of spending time in cities was confirmed.

In the afternoon, we went for a walk in Brandon Country Park, much more our sort of thing. This, like our caravan site, is part of the ‘Brecks’, or Brecklands, characterised by heathland. In the Country Park a large area of forest has been cleared to reinstate a heathland landscape. When Brandon Park Estate was purchased by Edward Bliss in 1820 it was devoid of trees and he set about introducing a wide variety of native and non-native species, planting eight million trees in just six months. His wealth came from the manufacture of gunflint, which was in high demand during the Napoleonic Wars, although the industry declined rapidly in peacetime. Bliss was able to use unemployed gunflint workers to plant his trees. His mausoleum is situated in the park but the remains of Bliss and his wife were moved to the local churchyard when the estate changed hands. I managed to spot a mandarin duck amongst the mallards hiding in the reeds.

I’d planned a visit to West Stow Anglo-Saxon Village, together with some of my descendants, before I knew it was going to be mentioned in my new course. The course itself is continuing professional development; does this mean the entrance fee is tax-deductible? We had a lovely day involving performing feats of daring on the adventure playground, well for some of us at least. We investigated the reconstructed Anglo-Saxon houses, uncovered archaeological finds and looked at an astounding array of locally excavated artefacts. It was a shame there were no Anglo-Saxon historical interpreters to add to the experience but it was well worth a visit nonetheless.

There were some Napoleonic re-enactors in the shape of the 95^th rifles on site, which did seem rather out of period but gave some of our party the opportunity to compare musket firing experiences. We followed the Beowulf and Grendel trail; coincidentally one of the younger members of our party had been learning about the story in school. We also walked round the lake but this was a bit underwhelming, as it is geared up for angling rather than enjoying lakeside views, which were intermittent at best. There was a group clearing reeds from the river and examining the river quality. The had caught some non-native crayfish, which were a cause for concern.

All in all it was an excellent day and the lovely weather was a bonus.

In a change to the planned itinerary, we called in at Grime’s Graves. We’ve been passing the brown sign to it on our travels and having looked it up, it sounded worth a visit, especially as it was only four miles away. This is the site of an early C20th rubbish tip but also a Neolithic flint mine. So it seemed like a good idea to continue our early history theme from yesterday. The mine was in operation from 2600-2300 BCE, about the time that Stonehenge was being constructed. As bronze and iron began to replace flint for tools, the mines which are between six and twelve metres deep, were used for burials. The miners used antler picks and scapulas as shovels. The flint axe heads, arrow heads and knives were ceremonial and symbolic as well as functional. The name ‘Grimes’ comes from the Anglo Saxon god Grim, another name for Woden. In Anglo Saxon times, the site was important as an administrative meeting point but its Medieval use was as a rabbit warren.

We started by looking at the explanatory interpretation boards. Michael Rosen had written some powerful poetry about the site. Then it was time to descend the mine. We were equipped with token hard hats but as there was no under chin fastening, I am not sure what good they would have done if we’d fallen down the mine. I have no idea what part of me decided that it was a good idea for someone who really doesn’t like heights and isn’t too keen on enclosed spaces to descend twelve metres (it felt like about two hundred) down an almost vertical metal ladder but descend we did. Even my companion isn’t super keen on being underground. I ensured there was photographic evidence and then returned to the surface pretty swiftly.

Then back to the itinerary and a drive to the coast at Blakeney. We managed to avoid following the sat-nav to Blakeney in Gloucestershire. It was convinced it must be that one we wanted as we’d been there earlier in the year. Blakeney is noted for its bird life. Despite a calf-killing walk across shingle for a mile or so, all we saw were a few seagulls.

On to look at Sheringham, where I visited as a child. There seemed to be some kind of 1940s fiesta going on, with plenty of people in period costume, including an impressive scout troop, complete with appropriate uniforms. We also saw the heritage steam train pass by. Another drive through Cromer, this time in the sun and then it was time to turn for home. The forecast rain began to materialise but we managed to stop off at a church to look for a tomb for one of my students. Sadly, although the family were well represented, the one we sought was elusive.