Stiffkey, home of the Stewkey Blues.

NOW: The Townsend Arms has now lost its thirsty customers and is another of the ubiquitous antique shops found in these parts. The buildings remain almost the same, apart from the additional walls and bollards. The old post from which the pub sign used to hang still remains, albeit covered in ivy, and the coast road is as narrow as ever!

THEN: A view of the main coast road, the A149 Cromer to Hunstanton, at Stiffkey! Outside the Townsend Arms, a Morgans’ house and fully-licensed, two young girls wait by the roadside for a bus to Wells-next-the-Sea, whilst the owners of the two motorcars, WD 6014 and AVF 982, enjoy a quiet drink inside the pub.

STIFFKEY is a pretty little village, situated on the Cromer to Hunstanton A149 coast road, just three-and-a-half miles west of Blakeney. Still portraying old-world charm, with its red-brick and flint cottages tightly clustered together, the narrow street closely follows the meandering course of the River Stiffkey.

The church of St John the Baptist lies at the east end of the village, close to the sixteenth-century Stiffkey Hall, with its motley collection of towers and ancient ruins, whilst nearby are all that remains of the original church of St Mary’s. Just below the hall and church, the River Stiffkey lazily meanders through the village, crossed only by a humpbacked bridge taking a minor road to Binham and beyond. Through marsh and pasture the waters make their way onwards to join the sea.

Author of Tarka the Otter.

Tarka the Otter
Henry Williamson, writer, farmed Old Hall Farm, Stiffkey, from 1937–1945.

Stiffkey Old Hall (right)
Complete with round towers, the old hall stands close to the river, with the church of St John the Baptist on slightly higher ground.

The sights and sounds of birdlife are everywhere, but, to the unaided eye, the marsh birds can present a difficulty without binoculars.

The village, is mainly renowned for cockles, a local delicacy, known as ‘Stewkey Blues’. But it also gained a certain amount of ‘notoriety’ as a result of the escapades of the local vicar during the 1930s.

A track, opposite the church, leads to the Stiffkey marshes, an area of outstanding natural beauty, which are under the protection of the National Trust. During the summer months, the marshland bursts into colour with the delicate blues and purples of massed colonies of sea-lavender – although not so noticeable as its garden variety and without the pleasant scent – whilst nearby can be seen the delicate yellow-horned poppies swaying gently in the sea-breeze.

Another antique shop.

The Old Chapel
Now an antique shop, stands beside the coast road, which is not so wide as it appears in this picture from the past.

Stiffkey Camp
To the west of the village a minor road leads down to the marshes where, at one time, Stiffkey Camp, an Army training camp, was located.

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The Revd Harold Davidson spent too much time away from his parish and in the company of ‘ladies of easy virtue’ in Soho, London, trying to ‘save’ them from their wicked ways.

But eventually he paid the price for his ‘indiscretions’, being unfrocked by the Bishop in Norwich Cathedral in 1932.

Perhaps he was misunderstood by the establishment of the day and made a scapegoat for his beliefs. We shall never know!

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