Agriculture was now becoming quite predominant. Remember, I was walking at the start of spring and early vegetables and daffodils were the order of the day in this area of jet-black soil.
The next notable area of real estate that is encountered is at Surfleet Seas End. Almost maritime in its appearance, there are these high, shifty looking landing stages that appear to be squashed together at low tide.

Further on, people have taken advantage of the lack of tidal surge, creating some quite homely weekend cottages on the River Glen. These tend to take the form of either wooden shacks or converted mobile homes. Either way, don’t be discouraged, the majority are highly attractive and must offer quiet solitude to their inhabitants throughout the year. At the same juncture, fields upon fields of yellow daffodils were transforming the view.
When I was there, the majority appeared ready for picking and I wondered how far and wide they would be dispersed. It was at this point that the first person to mention the Macmillan Way approached me. He was out walking with his wife and informed me that he had ‘done it’ a few years before. I was intrigued. He told me that the “Foot & Mouth” epidemic during the early years of this century had curtailed most peoples’ plans. When you think that the Macmillan Way was instigated properly in 1995-1996, there have only really been four years of apposite availability.



And so to the Surfleet approach, with the surreal ‘deep fen’ experience now a memory on the boot. Spartan, almost transient domiciles are replaced by more substantial ‘community’ buildings. The margin of man’s sincere encroachment. People, rather than plants, now occupy my attention and a sense of history comes into being where only a few hours ago I was wrestling with panoramas of empty timelessness. (Prosaic or what!)