My poor blog, it’s feeling very neglected at the moment.
It can’t be helped, sadly. I’ve been using all of my words (and time) to frantically try and finish my submission for the RNA New Writers’ Scheme before Freya finishes school for the summer on Tuesday.
To make up for lack of words, I’m sharing some pictures instead. We had a lovely day at Pensthorpe yesterday, including seeing their new Wetland Discovery area. It is always hard to convince Freya to leave the amazing play areas but even she couldn’t resist the beautiful flowers (and a butterfly or 50).
It seems a long while ago now but, along with my parents, Freya and I spent half term at a caravan in Caister-on-Sea on the Norfolk coast.
We were very lucky with the weather and managed to get on the beach most afternoons. I also nipped out early a couple of mornings to see the sunrise. One of the days it was just a wall of cloud to start with but then it cleared and there was a beautiful golden light.
I love taking photos with the turbines in the background.
I hope you’ve had a great week. To see what other people have picked for My Sunday Photo please click on the camera below.
Even though we live in Norfolk and love exploring, last week I realised just how much more of the county we have left to discover.
To celebrate a special birthday, my mother-in-law brought three members of her family from the West Midlands to stay in a fantastic converted barn she rented in the village of Bale, which is about nine miles from the town of Fakenham.
There was even room for Mark, Freya and I and so we used the barn as our base and set about showing them some of the county’s highlights – and, my goodness, did we pack a lot in.
With four generations to cater for I didn’t expect everyone to be happy all of the time but, actually, everything we did had elements that we all enjoyed.
We visited two stately homes, a wildlife sanctuary, the beach, a zoo and, the piece de resistance, my MIL walked alpacas along the coast as her birthday present from Mark and I.
However, it was as we were driving to and from the different places that I realised how much there is still to explore – especially when Mark decided to take little detours off the beaten track (yes, we were lost).
There were some proper “wow” moments, including driving through a picture-perfect village, turning a corner and coming across Binham Priory, looking glorious against the blue sky. Even Freya was impressed (although she thought it was an enchanted castle).
I had heard of the ruined Benedictine priory before but I didn’t know exactly where it was. While we didn’t have time to stop then, I knew we would be back – and in fact we went back three different times.
A potted history.
The priory was founded in the late 11th century – a massive undertaking by a nephew of William the Conqueror, Peter de Valognes and his wife Albreda. It took about 150 years to build so obviously they never got to see it finished. I imagine it must have been an impressive sight, rising up out of the countryside, once it was completed.
While it’s a tranquil place now, it has experienced its fair share of drama, including a siege in 1212 (see the links at the end of this post for a detailed history). It also suffered from:
It was closed in 1539 after the Dissolution of the Monasteries and was sold to Thomas Paston who started demolishing it. Stone from the monastery was reused in many local houses. Apparently, Thomas Paston’s nephew, Edward, started building a new house on the site but a workman was killed by falling masonry and the rest of the men refused to continue.
Today the nave of the much larger priory church has become the Church of St. Mary and the Holy Cross and is still used as a place of worship.
According to myth there is a tunnel running from the priory to Little Walsingham, which is said to have been the site of a strange disappearance. Apparently, one day a fiddler decided to explore the tunnel with his dog, as you do. Villagers could apparently hear his music as he ventured forth…until it suddenly stopped. His little dog came running out but no one dared enter the tunnel to look for him. He was never seen again. The place where the music stopped is now known as Fiddler’s Hill.
I wandered about on my own as the sun set and I have to say I felt perfectly content. It wasn’t eerie at all, just rather inspiring.
I did a short video of our approach to Binham Priory. It doesn’t really do it justice but you’ll get the idea (I’m sat in the back with Freya to get the best view).
There are some great sites with more info about the priory, including opening times.