For our next adventure, we headed off for a mini-holiday to the exotic destination of Suffolk. Across the first two days, we visited Sutton Hoo and learned about Anglo Saxons, as well as going on the Adnams brewery tour and enjoyed dippy eggs for breakfast. Whilst there we stayed at a magical little place named The Shelter on the edge of a small village called Parham. It was a small wooden cabin on stilts in a quiet, isolated patch of countryside, hidden away amongst the trees. It was perfect, and whilst we were there we spotted a heron, hares, ducks, bats, muntjac deer and a herd of larger deer, all from the comfort of our treehouse. Beth in particular had been feeling incredibly relaxed; we would highly recommend it and would love to go back.
We had saved our walk for our last day and picked a route starting from the town just down the road, Framlingham. The day was warm and clear; however one slight concern was hovering in the back of our minds. Much like its neighbouring county, Norfolk, Suffolk was proving to be largely flat stretches of arable land, with not an awful lot of variation between. If we’re honest, the first couple of miles of the day only confirmed this further. We took the road out the small town at about half past eleven and picked up a footpath which at first was dotted with a few flowers on one side and a stream on the other. This soon turned into a field side path, running past green crops beneath a very blue sky, which was followed by a further two large fields. This brought us out to a road, and the route seemed to take us a little way up before doubling back on ourselves. We decided to have a look, and passed a dead moorhen at the side of the road (or perhaps, a no-more hen…). A few minutes later, we found that the deviation led to a windmill. Cool. We turned around and walked back past the no-more hen.
After walking down the road and taking a smaller lane to the left, things did begin to get a little more interesting – although perhaps in the wrong way. We walked toward something in the road, which we found to be a recently dead pigeon. This would not have been news, apart from across the field to our left, I spotted a guy ducking behind a hide, holding something which looked rather like a gun. We had been hearing shots for a while, and as we continued another rang out. We soon came across another dead pigeon in our path, which to us suggested that the unknown gunman could, and would, shoot as far as where we were walking. A second later, we found a third pigeon, only this one was alive. Whereas most pigeons would fly away, this one seemed to be sheltering amongst the trees and hedges at the side of the road, close to the second pigeon. As we drew near, it did not fly away, and I got the distinct impression that the live pigeon had perhaps been the buddy of the second. This was sad. However, we could not hang around because more shots cracked through the air, and whilst I’m sure we weren’t being shot at, we were keen to leave the active shooting behind none-the-less.
We gratefully picked up a footpath that took us out across the countryside and away, the shots still echoing. The sun continued to shine as we crossed further fields with gentle undulation, and we stopped for lunch just after a patch of trees at the corner of one. Beth ate a large tuna and cucumber sandwich, whilst I had treated myself to a chilli jam and ham pork pie during our potter around Southwold the day before – it was just as tasty as it had looked in the bakery window! We carried on across the wide stretches of farmland, the miles disappearing beneath our feet. The only slight obstacle was when a farmer was ploughing their field, obliterating the footpath from sight (no biggie, we just walked around the edge). These easy paths took us quickly back toward Framlingham, and we soon saw the castle turrets ahead of us. A short road stretch took us to our final series of footpaths, and we found ourselves approaching the great castle walls. Obviously distracted by this, we took a path that ran in front of the castle, past Ye Olde Shopping Trolly. Beth quickly noticed this was wrong, and so we doubled back and made our way through a few close paths beside the large body of water next to us, called a Mere. Here we managed to skirt around the edge of the day’s only big patch of mud, and a few minutes later we came back out into Framlingham. We arrived back at the car only about three hours after we left, which shows the ease of the route, considering it was a little over seven miles (we usually average a little more than two miles an hour).
Though this was the last day of our mini-break, we had decided to make the most of it by not going home until after dinner, and so we weren’t done. We changed shoes and headed back up to the castle, where thankfully they let us in on my currently out-of-date volunteer pass (I didn’t notice that I needed a new one until I wanted to use it, and so we were very grateful!). The castle was very castle-y, although the high walls felt a bit precarious, and so I was glad to find myself sitting on a sunny bench back in the courtyard whilst Beth examined the stonework. She showed me the highlights on the way out, before we walked around the castle perimeter and followed this up with a couple of pints in the village square. Finally, after a tasty dinner, we headed for home, sad to be leaving our Suffolk adventure behind, but happy to be taking home the memories.
Matthew G. Huggins 