Icklingham – to New Zealand Cottages, The Mill.

King’s Forest was named to commemorate the Silver Jubilee of King George V and Queen Mary in 1935. The forest was planted in the 1930s and is primarily composed of pines, Scots and Corsican. There are belts of deciduous trees, and the Icknield Way follows one of these. Glacial sandy soil covers the chalk. I have a walk of about 4 miles through the heart of it.

But before we arrive there, I have the pleasure of viewing All Saints’ Church on the edge of Icklingham, A medieval thatched church in the care of The Churches Conservation Trust.  All Saints’  was built largely in the fourteenth century, although it is of Norman origin. Since it has not been used as a parish church for over 100 years, it remains one of the best examples of an unspoilt Suffolk church. Of course, it is built of flint and stone. With all roofs, apart from the tower, thatched, the last time was in 1999. There are some fine gargoyles on the tower roof. Click on any image to enlarge.

The door handle is cleverly crafted. A cross, a heart and an anchor.

It is light and airy upon entry, with lots of plain glass in the windows. Not being in use, it is sparsely furnished. Most of the woodwork dates back to the 17th century. All the windows feature elegant tracery, and there is some medieval stained glass. The thatch can be seen in the roof space, giving the space an agricultural feel.

Traces of paint indicate that the stonework would have originally been decorated.

A highlight of the church is the chancel floor, laid with fourteenth-century tiles. With a variety of colours, shapes, and designs, they form a unique mosaic. They have been here for 700 years!

That was a fascinating hour, but time to get on the way. Fields are traversed behind the church, and then I’m into the King’s Forest for four miles. Sandy and  flinty, the trail gives easy walking. The trees, beech, oak and birch, line either side, but beyond them are the conifer plantations managed by Forest England.  There are the prints of deer, but I never saw any, despite sitting quietly for long periods. Fallow, Roe or Muntjac’s?

Another diversion was the bird song from the trees. Robins are common, and where there are bushes of broom gone to seed, flocks of Blue, Great and Long-tailed Tits flit about. The occasional Buzzard soars overhead at the margins of the forest.

A fork in the track is my only navigational decision. I choose left, which turns out to be right if you see what I mean. There are still some flowers hanging on into autumn.

At some stage, bored with the track I take to the beechwoods in search of fungi.

Eventually, there ahead is a monument, and I hit the road at Shelterhouse Corner. I can just about make out the inscription celebrating the Jubilee of 1935.

A path through the pine shelter bed is provided to avoid the busy road.

Then it is back into the woods on a byway. All of a sudden, it becomes busy with outsized agricultural vehicles.

A monster of a machine, squirting muck, is raking the field I have to cross.

The watering equipment for these fields is also on the large scale.

I eventually escape the arena…

…back into Breckland forestry.

Now on well used tracks passing massive pig farms, with a choice of housing.

And then in the middle of nowhere, I’m at the very comfortable Mill for the night. An oasis of calm.

I don’t know why the cottages are labelled ‘New Zealand’ on the map, and I forget to ask.