The Delightful Footpaths of Suffolk

An ancient English trail system that allows long distance walking off road

I’m an enormous proponent of walking — as exercise, as a mental health wellness strategy, and just for the adventure of exploring a new place by foot. So imagine my delight when walking around the small English village I’m spending the summer in and finding a well marked system of footpaths, leading to the beach, to other villages, and to ancient — and to cozy historical pubs, which is the best part.

In the past week, I discovered a surprisingly clean and humane pig farm, for which Suffolk is famous, a family of swans swimming slowly though a canal, an explosion of tiny frogs (toads?) hopping about around a pond, some still with tails.

There’s something satisfying and ancient about walking to a village shop from your house to pick up something you need. I often find myself inventing reasons to walk to the shop in Alderton, a village close to where I’m currently staying, just so I can take the 30 minute walk each direction — first along dykes along the North Sea, and then turning inward through fields of corn, potatoes, and onions. Often, along the way, I’ll see a few tiny muntjac deer, native to Asia but improbably very at home here in Suffolk. There are also hares, rabbits, European bee-eaters, swans with their goslings, and the occasional badger (which I’ve only seen dead so far).

So I walk to the shop and buy the invented need (wine or cheese or milk or bread) and then I walk back, taking a different footpath back out to the sea, turning north to Shingle Street. When you get back from a walk like this, you have more perspective. I try to not think during these walks. Sometimes I sing or talk or do skits. I crack myself up until a person on the footpath comes around a blind corner, scaring me, and likely thinking I’m crazy.

Summer pleasures are more and more rare these days, and I don’t think this is only because I’m older now. I think the combination of horrifying events today has coarsened us and our experience of things. That and the Internet.

Summer is more extreme. The dogs don’t seem to notice though, and if you try hard enough, you can find that summer feeling — that feeling of possibility and carefree. It sneaks in. When it does, you must embrace it, because it may not last long.