Walk 1: The churches of the Glaven estuary

If the surroundings of Sunday's church were little-changed over the past few centuries, then the exact opposite is true of the noteworthy churches around what was the Glaven estuary. In the middle ages Blakeney, Cley and Wiveton were busy ports where goods were imported from and exported to mainland Europe.

The harbours have silted up over the centuries, and the North Sea is a good two or three miles from these villages. Streets which would have bustled with seafarers and traders are now quintessentially quaint North Norfolk villages, beloved by holiday makers, second-homers, bird-watchers and amateur sailors.

The churches are grand edifices, the boon of medieval prosperity. These are large, confident town churches in village settings. Their relative proximity to one another made this a good first walk, and one which I had undertaken (in much fairer conditions) back in March 2023.

St Nicholas Blakeney

St Nicholas, Blakeney's defining characteristic is its unusual east tower, giving the church the look of an ecclesiastical malted milk biscuit. The jury's out on its purpose. It's too short (and surely too far inland, even then) to be a lighthouse, and in the wrong place to house a sanctus bell. Perhaps it was just a benefactor's folly.

As the first church of my first walk, I was delighted to step inside to find the place alive and active. A Bible study on the psalms was taking place in the north aisle. And, at the east end of the church, major work was being done on the organ. It was very good to meet the organ builder, Richard Bower of Weston Longville (Friday's walk), who has been building, restoring and maintaining organs in Norfolk and beyond for over half a century.

The chancel, Blakeney

The Victorians were heavy-handed with Blakeney, making it, in Mortlock's opinion, 'a trifle gloomy'. But my favourite part of this building is the Early English chancel, with its stone vaulting and seven lancet east window. Stepping through the screen is like entering a different church. Indeed, it feels more like a retrochoir than a chancel.

Blakeney Methodist Church

Half way down the high street is Blakeney Methodist Church. According to a stone above the doorway there has been a Methodist presence here since 1812. Sadly, like several Methodist chapels in this area, this church closed recently. Presumably it won't be long until the building is sold and converted into (red hot) residential property.

The interior, Cley-next-the-Sea

These medieval churches must have been a haven to tired seafarers, and after the most wet and blustery walk along the coast path, I was glad of shelter at St Margaret, Cley-next-the-Sea. This is one of Norfolk's finest churches. 'Look at that for vastness and light,' exclaims Betjeman, in this the first church he visits in A Passion for Churches.

There is so much to see here. The roof bosses in the south porch show a woman chasing a hen-stealing fox, and what appears to be a man having his bare bottom smacked. No less fanciful are the carvings inside. The corbels and their bases still have remains of their vivid medieval paint, and an imp retains his glass eyes. Easier to view are the fifteenth century bench ends and poppy heads, revelling in the imagination of medieval craftsmen. The detail of the remarkably well-preserved seven sacrament font is stunning too, and, again, traces of original paint are visible.

Bench-end, Cley

I headed inland, away from the squally gusts. After the grand scale of Blakeney and Cley, St Martin, Glandford feels like walking into a dolls house. Indeed, this is a Norfolk church on a miniature scale. Ruinous from the early eighteenth century, the church was entirely rebuilt by Sir Alfred Jodrell, of nearby Bayfield Hall, in memory of his mother.

Interior, Glandford

Sir Alfred was an Anglo-Catholic and, evidently, an admirer of Norfolk's medieval churches. So he sought to imitate the trademark features of a medieval Norfolk church: seven sacrament font, rood screen, and a hammerbeam roof replete with angels. 'Everything in fact,' says the church guide, 'that would have embellished a great East Anglian church of the fifteenth century, but packed into a small space.'

The Glaven from Wiveton

The final leg of my journey took me alongside the Glaven, now heading north back towards and the coast, and crossing the river over the medieval bridge approaching St Mary the Virgin, Wiveton. This is elegant perpendicular: the simple, two-coloured windows in the north and south aisles providing a warm light on the flagstone floor, and drawing the eye to the large, plain-glassed east window. This is a church for a warm summer evening.

Interior, Wiveton

From the east end of the churchyard one gets a stunning view back towards Cley Church, over what would have been the harbour. It's not hard to imagine what this scene would have looked like in the middle ages. (Indeed, some paintings in Wiveton Church give us a clue.) It's a good place to give thanks for those whose vision and generosity have built these mighty houses of prayer. A monument in Glandford, celebrating the rebuilding of that church, includes an apt supplication:

Grant, O Father, that through Thy Help, they may both faithfully live, and walk, according to Thy Will in this Life present, and also may be Partakers of Everlasting Glory in the Life to come, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The view from Wiveton Churchyard, showing Cley Church to the left

Walk: 7.8 miles. https://explore.osmaps.com/route/21125743/glaven-valley

There are more photos on my Instagram page @walkingnorfolkschurches