Day 28 – Lowestoft to Happisburgh - 17th June – 22.7 nm

Team Manager decides to give Great Yarmouth a miss, she has had her fill of British seaside resorts for now I think. Instead she excitedly decides to head up the coast to visit California, I have a feeling that it may not quite live up to expectations.

It's an easy lunchtime start at Lowestoft and I head north once again, but something isn't quite right, the tide is flowing much faster than I expect. Something is amiss with the tidal planning, I make good speed but I have a nagging feeling that it may be a shorter day than hoped for. Bum.

The Norfolk coast is quite pleasant, the tide (other than the timing!) is straightforward and there is a welcome dearth of challenging headlands or tide races. With a bit of easy weather it is all pretty straightforward, a sort of sea kayaking-for-dummies stretch of coastline – that suits this dummy quite nicely.

Great Yarmouth soon slides by, it looks a little more industrial and a little less touristy than I remember. But after that there is nothing much to get too excited about, the low-lying sand and mud cliffs are not unpleasant but not dramatic either. Fine by me, a little drama-free paddling time would not go amiss.

In an uncharacteristically romantic moment I decide to paddle in to spend lunch with the Team Manager on the sandy beach at Winterton. Though of course I pay for this moment of rash decadence, as I have to return to the beach to free the single piece of beach-borne gravel from my jammed rudder.

I do run out of tide, as anticipated, and land early, and slightly disappointedly, at Happisburgh. The cliff-top campsite is a beautiful setting though; while the nearby pub is just one of many that easily blends into a soon-forgotten list of mediocre food and beer.

After spending a sweaty day in The Van, Team Manager decides to go for a 'swim' under grey skies – she gets nothing more than her knees wet and returns - the water is cold (surely not...) and the seals are too close apparently. It took her longer to put her cossie on.

A day that was memorable just for the sheer fact that nothing really memorable happened.