Swaffham - a pilgrimage within a pilgrimage

After leaving Norwich I headed to the small town of Swaffham - in the fog, so thick all I could see were shadows looming out of the gloom.  Photos were few and far between on this day.

Inside the church at Necton.  Note the angels on the roof ( you might need to zero in).  The bell ringers were practising and they continued for well over an hour (I stopped for coffee and they were still going when I came out)

All Saints  Church,  Necton. 

When planning this journey I realised I was going to be very close to Swaffham and immediately planned to somehow visit the town, and in particular one of the churches there.  I can hear you all saying what's she on about now, or something similar.  It is not a town that one passes through, but one where a choice has to be made to visit it as it is not really on the way to anywhere.

Well, for many years, visiting schools as a storyteller, or sitting around a campfire, I have been telling the story of the Pedlar of Swaffham.  If you don't want to know the story, skip the next bit!  

Church of St Peter and St Paul, Swaffham

The Christmas flowers were still in place.

This door had been filled - with flint

I generally take about 10 minutes to tell it, but in a nutshell the story goes like this:-  the pedlar has a recurring dream that says if he went and stood on London Bridge he would hear some interesting news.  This was in the days when there were shops and houses on the bridge.  Being fed up having this dream every night, he took himself and his dog off to London, where he stood on the bridge for three days. A man came up to him and said "I've watched you for three days.  You've bought nothing, sold nothing, done nothing.  What are you here for?"  When the pedlar told him, he laughed and said "well, I keep having a dream that tells me to go to Swaffham and dig under the oak tree in the pedlar's orchard and I will find treasure".  Of course, hearing that, the pedlar and his dog headed home, found the treasure, and, it is said, he used some of his treasure to re-roof the church among other things. 

The pedlar ...

... and his dog

A carvings of monks with their rosary beads on the choir stalls.

The church loomed out of the fog as I walked into Swaffham, but it wasn't until the next day that I was able to see inside.  The front pews have finials of the pedlar and also his dog, and there is also a chair with carvings of him too.  In the village there are a couple of signs referencing the pedlar too.

The front and back of the town sign

I met a retired vicar who is filling in until they find someone to permanently fill the role.  He told me about the many angels carved on the roof, which I had missed.  He turned on all the lights for me so I could see them more easily. 

Inside the church, with a mirror reflecting the roof, and, if you look hard, the engraved angels.

The Church of St Peter and St Paul, Swaffham

After leaving Swaffham the path took me to Hilborough - again in dense fog.  I passed both North and South Pickenham on quiet back country roads - except for the last quarter of a mile, which was on a busy A road.  Here I had to keep leaping onto the verge as cars approached, making me plan to leave early the next morning to avoid the traffic, with luck, as I had to retrace my steps to get back on the path- but more on that in the next post. 

Heading to Hilborough 

A little flint house

A town sign

All Saints Church, South Pickenham