Every year, my cousins and I and our families, go away together at Easter… Several years ago we went to Norfolk:
I am lucky to have a most remarkable family; every year my cousins and I take our families on a holiday at Easter time, and this year it was in Norfolk… and altogether twenty-nine of us were staying in a wonderful house in the village of Bacton. There weren’t twenty-none at any one time; the most was twenty-five, which is quite a number even so!
This must be the eleventh or twelfth year we have been away together, and we have stayed in large country-houses, old farmhouses, and even converted chapels in Derbyshire, Gloucestershire, Shropshire, Cumbria, Yorkshire and Devon… this year we went east and found accommodation big enough for us right by the sea.
We were a little anxious in January when the coast took a terrific battering, and several houses and other property was lost to a terrible tidal surge… we just hoped we still had a holiday home waiting for us! We were fine, as it happens, but tragically several people had lost their homes although fortunately not their lives.
Down on the beach at Happisburgh (pronounced Haze-burgh) the dreadful impact of the high tides, huge waves, and on-shore winds was only too apparent. The cliffs had been gouged away, the soft clay and sand wrenched from beneath homes and houses.