I am not a fan of seaside towns in summer. I hate the crowds, the narrow, winding roads that trap you, so you can end up surrounded by angry second-homers ready to bust a neck vein in indignation at you daring to drive down a perfectly legitimate, if tiny, road and ending up having to do a 23-point turn in remorse, while they watch.
But I love an English seaside town in winter.
Thus it was that I found myself in North Norfolk’s Sheringham. I watched two steam trains pull in at the station, couple, uncouple, pull out again and douse the station with steam (‘Daddy, my Daddy!’ as Bobbie memorably said in The Railway Children.)
It started to rain. Along the high street I cheered up at the sight of a ‘chocolate shop’ only to recoil when I saw the reality, which we need not speak of here.
Luckily I found a Harris & James shop, we bought ice-creams – of course, this being winter – and I oscillated between the Salted Caramel chocolate bar, £1.85/48g or the Peanutty bar, £1.85/60g.
In the end I opted for the latter, fooling myself that some protein would lower the glycaemic hit. Then we walked up Beeston’s Bump, the ‘alps of Norfolk’ as a friend later told me, which sits 205ft above sea level.
Over yonder we could see the storm coming in, a huge black cloud being pulled across the skyline. Just time, I thought, to stand and look out to sea and eat the bar, barrel-shaped and coated in rich dark milk, the innards all caramelised milk and salted peanut butter.
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