It is at the oddest moments you have these ideas. There we were, the Textiliste and me (I?), having a quite coffee and cake at the boating pond café in Southwold on Saturday, wondering if the threatened flash floods would catch us out, when I spotted an article in Suffolk magazine about some local worthies doing the ‘Suffolk 60’ to raise money for a local carers charity (it’s a great cause so I posted the link).

Anyway, they are mad. 60 miles, along the Suffolk Coastal Path in 24 hours. It’s for a good reason, obv., and everything but, really, I love walking and like to end a walk loving it, which I doubt is the experience here.

So what I think is this; I will do the walk, from Lowestoft, the most Easterly point of the main land British Isles and walk the nearly 60 miles to Felixstowe maybe over two or three days. Soon.

Hopefully I will persuade the Lawyer to join me. He doesn’t know this as I write – he’s at Glasto, deep in the mud and a new found affection for Dolly P – if you see a tent the size and shape of a London Transport tube carriage, that’s where he’s staying.

So, anyway, we finished a pretty decent Victoria sponge (seven out of ten – the sponge has to be very soft and moist if there’s a lot of it or the filling must be exceptional and it sort of failed on both fronts, just) and set off along a little of the path we will follow if we do this walk, and then in a loop back past Reydon Church and St Felix’s school (one of those glorious private school establishments that tell you education is wasted on the young) and into Southwold in time to catch the back end of the arts festival and the parade and another cup of tea at the Adnams Brewery café. We did about six miles, the rain held off and I knew, by the end, I would do the ’60’.

Maybe I’ll regret it later but, you see, I believe that if I post this, if I make this public then I sort of have to do it and write about it. After all there are some glorious bits to the UK, many of which I still have to visit and only know about from others, but this part – the bit on the map that looks like Britannia’s Bum, sticking out into the North Sea and mooning at the rest of Europe – is my favourite piece, I think. After all I know it does great cake and coffee; it has the best array of butterflies still flying (from my limited recent study); I saw an owl in the wild for the first time in years on Saturday; and the clincher, for a walker, it’s pretty nearly flat.

That’ll do me; watch out for the forthcoming posts.