Suffolk Sauntering : Day 1 - Diss to Homersfield

Day one of my walking adventure began at 6am in a small flat in Notting Hill. Our friend Josie had been kind enough to put us up the night before Em headed back to Phnom Penh. My whirlwind descent from frenetic London to sleepy Suffolk began with a train-ride and an emotional farewell at Heathrow. Then I was flying up the M11 in my hire car bound for Suffolk. The early start and bad traffic wasn't really getting me in the mood for a leisurely saunter, and I found myself stressing out about small things, getting lost trying to map read whilst driving, and finally sitting in a stationary traffic jam of holiday makers somewhere on the A14. It was hot and sunny, and I could just imagine the bored kids in the family saloon in front giving their parents a hard time. I finally made it to Bury St.Edmunds, and after a short spell lost again on the country lanes of Suffolk, rolled into the small market town of Diss. It was much later than i'd hoped, 1pm in fact, which added to my stress levels as i'd hoped to get a full day's walking in. I quickly located a quiet street to park the car on, and packed the few items of equipment I had into the day pack. It felt quite strange, but also exciting, to walk away from the car down the road without any clear idea of where I was going or where I was staying.

A quick pit stop in town to buy a snickers bar, fill up with water, and check where the Angles Way started at the tourist info office and I was away. Diss very quickly faded behind me and I was straight into Constable country, I almost expected to walk around a bend in the river to find the artist and his easel on the river bank. The countryside here was flat and pastoral with pockets of woodland and occasional church spires from distant villages, cows roamed grazing and the tiny River Waveney lazily snaked through the open shallow valley. The path mainly followed the river, diverting occasionally to cross bridges over frantic dual carriage-ways, and pass through small villages. My own rhythms gradually slowed during the afternoon as I came down from the forced high of modern life and adapted to the slow, steady pace walking along the river bank. I started to enjoy what was around me; dragonflies, butterflies, hares standing alert to see who the intruder was before bolting into the hedge, a flock of crows, startling some pheasants out of the undergrowth, eating a blackberry off the bush (it was really a bit early and the berry was very tart).

This part of Suffolk is beautiful and was exactly what i'd come in search of, despite the long distance footpath it doesn't seem to be particularly popular with tourists which added to the charm for me. I only saw a few people all afternoon; an old bloke out for an afternoon stroll down the lane and a farmer overseeing the early harvest of his wheat who were both very friendly. Near Brockdish I was surprised to hear the sounds of jazz from across the fields. It was a wedding in a field next to Brockdish church, with a marquee and a live jazz band, and it looked like they were having a great time. Later, I was chased by an old half-blind sheepdog on a farm, and walked past a wonderful deciduous woodland running along a ridge.


As the afternoon wore on, my thoughts turned to food and accommodation. This became a recurring theme, around mid-afternoon each day I would start looking ahead on the map to spot likely villages which might have a pub, and woods or heathland which might be suitable for a surreptitious bivouac. It was already 7pm due to my late start, but the wonderful late English summers evening meant I had light until 10pm. I had high hopes for Mendham, I was tired as I descended through fields down to the river and bridge. There was a pub, hurrah, but unfortunately they didn't serve food, and even worse there was no real ale! So, I had to drag my reluctant body onto the next village. After getting lost again, and scaring myself in some woods at twilight (I was certain someone was behind me but when I looked there wasn't, you know the one), I finally staggered into Homersfield at dusk, hoping beyond hope that there was a pub, otherwise it was snickers bar and water for dinner. Homersfield came up trumps with the Black Swan. After a pint of Adnams I asked the landlord if there was anywhere to camp close by and he offered the field behind the pub for a few quid. As it was so late, and due to my exhaustion I gladly accepted, particularly as it meant I could have dinner (sausage & mash) and a few more cheeky pints before turning in. It had been a big day, starting in Notting Hill and ending up at the Black Swan, Homersfield. I'd walked 17.5 miles by my reckoning which wasn't a bad effort and probably reflected my rat race mentality early on. I resolved to take things much easier the next day.