About 30 years ago my wife and I decided to rent a holiday property in Norfolk, as usual I studied the brochures ( no googling then ) for somewhere with some fishing, no where in particular just somewhere to have a couple of hours. My eye caught a farmhouse on an estate in mid Norfolk but nearer enough to the coast. My wife had asked her friend Judith to come for a few days but when she looked at the photo of the house she said it looks spooky…..plus it was up a long farm track with no other properties near by, so sorry but no….I won’t take up your kind invitation.
Anyway we were told to pick up the key from the estate office and on a lovely warm Saturday morning we were met by a nice lady who gave us the keys and directions along with an info pack contains a map of the river. After about half a mile of farm track we came upon a large red brick with pantiled roof house which presumably used to be a Tennant Farmers, Wisteria & Roses up the walls, distressed chic inside, faded paintings & hunting prints on the wall and piles of old copies of Country Life & The Field alongside the usual Readers Digest you get in holiday homes.Just what I like. We done the usual look round and chose a bedroom, the lounge had a TV and well worn comfy sofa and armchairs. The kitchen which was very large was on a lower level and looked the oldest part of the house and according to the info had two cellars running off it which were behind locked doors….There was a loo down a small passage.
After getting unpacked and setting up my Chapmans 500 ! we went to the nearest market town had lunch and browsed around. We returned around tea time and we’re struck by the complete silence of our surroundings, I said to Pat do you mind if I go and have a look at the river, usually her reply was of course see you soon…this time it was I’d like to come with you and sit in the car it’s lovely here but there’s something about the place particularly the kitchen area…off we went and checking the map of the water decided where to fish the following evening, the banks were high in vegetation, it looked little fished and some modest Chub were at station, I couldn’t wait to have a go. Walked back to the car and Pat was reading a book quite relaxed. By this time the sun had dropped but when we got back to the house it looked stunning. Usually Pat would have said she would go to the kitchen and bring some cake & tea back to the lounge for us but she said will you go…..off I went down the steps into the kitchen where it was not as light and to me a bit gloomy….nothing I could pin point butI didn’t feel at ease and quickly took our refreshments back.
Pat said on my return so you can sense something…don’t be daft I said I ! we sat in the lounge looking at the sun setting and after a few beers I needed the loo, the one off the kitchen was nearest and again walking through the kitchen even after putting the lights on I again felt uneasy.
To cut it short we spent as little time as possible in the kitchen and went upstairs if we needed to use the loo from then on, the rest of the week went well, a few evenings fishing ( with Pat not wanting to stay in the house ) with fish of modest size which I guess had never seen a hook, nice days out and it was our last night on Friday…….it had been hot all week but we’d both slept well, in the early hours Pat nudged me to say there was a noise coming from the kitchen area and how hot the bedroom felt. I felt the old large radiator and it was red hot, I went to the landing and the rad there likewise…I knew the boiler was down in a cupboard in the kitchen….I had checked it when we arrived and it was set to hot water only. The thought of going down to the kitchen to check it put the wind up me ! but how could the heating be in full flow on a hot July night ? I locked every door before going to bed and the only window open was our bedroom. Pat said it’s near dawn let’s put all the lights on get dressed and go down to the kitchen just in case there is an electric fault and a fire breaks out ! with some trepidation we entered the kitchen and this was the thing it was extremely, extremely cold I went to the boiler and the heating was set on maximum. Pat said to me you must have switched it on by mistake..no I haven’t I said, well who has then she said….I switched it off, we quickly made some tea and went upstairs. Our experience of the house is low down the scale of the para normal, no visions , strange noises or things being misplaced but the sense of gloom and sadness which I could not get over in the kitchen area we both can’t explain…and there were the two locked cellar doors we were not given keys too, what laid there ?
Dave
A Summer tale
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Re: A Summer tale
I love that tale Dave, it reminds me very much of a cottage I once stayed in, in the Cairngorms whilst salmon fishing on the Devron with my late father and uncle. There was just something about the place that felt odd. None of us could put our finger on it. We ended up spending most evenings down at the local(ish) pub and only using it as a place to sleep when we were dog tired and nothing much would worry us….
" Angling is not an escape from life, but often a deeper immersion into it..."
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Re: A Summer tale
Thanks Rob,
We’ve stayed in lots of holiday cottages etc but that’s the only one where we felt uneasy, there’s a few isolated places I’ve fished all night or into darkness where you get the usual animals / bird activity and linked with the darkness can make one aware of surroundings but that house was a different experience.
Dave
We’ve stayed in lots of holiday cottages etc but that’s the only one where we felt uneasy, there’s a few isolated places I’ve fished all night or into darkness where you get the usual animals / bird activity and linked with the darkness can make one aware of surroundings but that house was a different experience.
Dave