I started my life in Essex, and moved via Berkshire to Devon, where I’ve now lived more than half my life. I’m very settled here, but have just returned from a trip to see a friend in Pakefield, which is close to the most easterly point in England. The scenery is so different from my home, and I really enjoyed exploring the contrasts, especially the rapidly-eroding coastline of golden cliffs.
I took hundreds of photos over three days, but here are a selection of the better ones (I think – you may disagree?).
This is Ness Point – a bleak place in a damp north-easterly wind, with waves crashing over the “Euroscope” – a huge compass pointing the way to various places in the UK and abroad. I was more taken with some of the graffiti adorning the sea wall!
In the scrubland above the beach at Pakefield, there’s what can hardly be termed a boatyard, but a jumble of rather sad-looking small boats wrapped in an assortment of tarpaulins and old advertising banners; tied down with rope like unwanted Christmas presents. The sort of place that makes ordinary people tut and wonder why it hasn’t been tidied up – but a feast of photographic interest to nerds like me!
I was also attracted by the natural beauty of this stretch of coastline, which is very much younger, geologically speaking, than I’m used to. The cliffs are formed of a soft rock called “Crag”, these golden sandstones and gravels are less than 5 million years old, and barely consolidated from their origins in shallow seas and estuaries. Instead of neat strata, they are jumbled up, showing the typical features of current bedding, reflecting the ripples and currents in the water where they formed.
The cliffs are famously eroding quickly, and I saw lots of water and drain pipes sticking out over the beach where once houses used to stand.
We also visited Covehithe and Benacre, and Happisburgh beaches. As well as the golden cliffs and sand, I was most struck by the multiple shades of orache (Atriplex prostrata) growing in the loose sand at the foot of the cliffs with other maritime plants. Something else different from home to intrigue me.
My last day included a quick walk on the beach at Lowestoft, where I saw this somewhat disconcerting group of statues, the Walking Men by Laurence Edwards. They are larger than life size and encumbered by an odd selection of possessions; most puzzlingly, a lead maul behind the last one. The light was wonderfully dramatic, and you can just see the kittiwake hotels on the horizon.
(There are some real-life walking people in the banner image at the top, taken a few minutes later at 180°!)