Trains from London's Liverpool Street Station take rail travelers to some of the farthest outposts of modern day Britain. Places that the tourist, business exec and native alike are least likely to have on their top ten list of hot destination locales. In part because of the sheer geography of the untamed counties that sit quite contentedly far-off the traditional beaten track.
In England, the ancient, windswept, brooding East Anglian Norfolk/Suffolk border remains one of the few largely undiscovered destinations at the end of a rambling train ride along a haunting, murky, magical coastal track, true to its long-held regional reputation for a bleak, stark, striking beauty not beholden to the hoards of seasonal tourist traffic that floods more commonly considered idyllic spots of the Queen's green isle.
If Cambridge and Ipswich frame a gateway to the East, Norwich is surely on the far side of the secret garden gate, enticing a more robust type of traveler to discover its far-flung charms of true and authentic identity. Explore even farther into the depths of coastal Norfolk and Suffolk and a time warp of inexplicable charm opens to the true wanderer.
It was into these wilds of a brisk and sunny October weekend that I rather intrepidly rambled along with my sister, Lindsey and a couple of overnight bags for our cousin Lucy's Autumn wedding to her Sam.
Fields of wheat and golden hay bales stretched for miles as our three-carriage train trundled from one tiny station to the next. Shared a copy of the Times and its superb Saturday magazines, spoke at length to absent sister, Kerry in Sydney and promised this post with pics! Alighting at the riverside, boat-studded quay market town of Beccles, Suffolk, wandered the quarter mile into town, turned left and arrived at our first destination of the day at the sturdy, central King's Head Pub and Hotel without so much as a nod to the safety measures of an i-phone google map.
With time moving on at a rapid clip, the change into suitably glamorous wedding garb from morning's rail travel attire was accomplished at record speed in order for a brief and jolly transatlantic reunion (taking care not to smudge the lipstick) over light pub lunch with Mum and Dad.
A taxi cab ride from Beccles' best took us along the border of Norfolk and all the way down a delightfully British one-track, hedge-lined road to what is surely one of
the finest examples of 16th Century rural
architecture, romantic Elms Barn, nestled in little-known Waveney Valley.
Lucy's dream wedding in a medieval barn had led she and Sam and some eighty friends and family to this surprising spot, hidden in the deep folds of Suffolk. With not another soul except for the wedding party in sight, the world and its worries were far from mind for an enchanted afternoon and evening of timeless elegance and simplicity. And love had undoubtedly brought us all there. Some of us from quite a distance. One of three nights in England for Scribbles Daily, here. Priceless.
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