The Cats that Live on the Beach and Other Tales

As a child, we used to sail to Horsey Mere from Hickling Broad in a Half Decker. The boat was my granddad’s, and it was large enough to accommodate our rather large family and a couple of eager guests.

My Mum likes to remind me that I was still wearing reins when I first went sailing in that boat. We would stock up on picnic food, sail to Horsey, and then walk to the local pub. Sometimes the wind would die and it would take hours to drift home. The sail from Hickling to Horsey was, and still is, beautiful. It makes sailing at sea seem pointless.

On other days, we would drive to Winterton or Waxham and walk along the sand dunes. This is something I still do with my parents when I go home. We still go out in the Half Decker too. The land of my childhood is the land of my sun-soaked daydreams. When I return, I sigh with pleasure, look about me and wish that I could marry my life of gigging, cycling to work, and the wonderful grit of urban living, with the flatlands and waterways of Norfolk.

Several years after I moved away from the county, another big family moved in. They are grey, have large whiskers and love sunbathing. They are fabulously fat seals, and they live along the coastline between Sea Palling and Winterton. Now when I visit my parents, if it’s the right time of year, we go and say ‘hello’ to the seals.

Saying ‘hello’ to the seals with my folks is like marvelling at a gift of nature. On Thursday morning, my dad counted 74 seals sunbathing on just two beaches. “It won’t be long before lots of new seal pups add to their numbers”, he told me. My Dad knows about that kind of thing. On Thursday, I saw more seals than I have ever seen before. Seals are ace.

You may not know this, but Cranes have also colonised the Broads over the last 30 years. This is the only part of Britain where you can see Cranes in the wild. On Wednesday afternoon, I saw my first Crane. Actually, I saw four.

I was in the hinterland of rural Hickling, where an ‘Oi, you, geroff my land!” and the threat of loaded shotgun wouldn't be the biggest surprise. I was riding a bike that looks like it was born in the 1950s and my Dad was riding it’s bigger brother. These bikes are my Dad’s idea of mountain bikes. They are so damn cool. With jaunty smiles and silly waves, we passed a flock of birdwatchers.

Then, with bandy legs, and little suspension, we headed off-road, away from tripods and people, and into shotgun territory. The sound of human life, cars and motorbikes stopped. My Dad quietly called for me to stop. There they were, four massive cranes, as fat as Christmas turkeys and as tall as pink flamingos. We watched them for ten minutes, or more, in wonderment. After seeing the seals on Thursday, we heard the Cranes crying. They make a hell of a row.

My Dad's a bit of a twitcher. I’m not, but seeing a group of massive rare birds with him was just dandy. He’d seen an Osprey before I arrived. He was very excited.

Fabpants Recommends: The Raveonettes - Lust Lust Lust. The Jesus and Mary Chain comparisons are obvious, but this album takes you on it’s own journey. Female vocals have rarely sounded better when set against a fine wall of fuzz. It’s hard to believe that this band's not British. The album's so pretty and maudlin.

Download MP3: The Raveonettes - Dead Sound



I also recommend “Conflict of Wings”, a 1954 film that features Hickling, Ludham and a cast of extras from the area. Seeing the locals and film stars haring up Hickling Broad in a random array of boats, to have an anarchist style protest, is brilliant.