The same old town: Thetford

It turns out my home town of Thetford in Norfolk is a bit more interesting than I gave it credit for.  That is if you like history, long stories, and unexpected tours from random strangers.  Which I do.

The Norman motte - Castle Hill

The day I went round the town it was raining (of course!  This is Britain!) but that's ok because it makes the cloudier photos come out all monochrome and grainy, which always looks a little classy.

The same old town: The Brecks

I always go home for Christmas.  I grew up in Norfolk, a pretty quiet county in East Anglia with a lot of great coastline, in a small town called Thetford.  For a lot of teenagers the place you grow up is the place you want to get out of.  It's the place where everybody knows you, remembers you when you were tiny and everything you've done since, and knows you as the child of your parents (which is not unreasonable, considering that they have been looking after you for your entire life so far).  In some cases you stay in your home town, you grow up, and eventually you find your niche there.  You carve out a place and make a life for yourself.

In other cases, you leave, and do your growing up somewhere else, but then you come back.  It's one of the trademarks of almost every questing myth that at the end the traveller returns home.  Often it's up for debate whether it's the place that's changed, or whether it's the person...

Canada Geese flying in formation across the Brecks

What I'm driving at is that when I came home this year I began noticing things that had always been there, but that somehow I'd never seen before.  It’s been a bit rainy, but that never stands in the way of exploration!  So here’s a whistle-stop tour of the place where I grew up, starting with the land it sits on.