‘Home sweet home,’ I whispered as I slowly pulled into the village and the sun, which had been positively shining down all morning, disappeared from view. ‘Well, for a couple of weeks anyway.’

The bank of grey cloud blowing in from where I knew the sea was waiting for me to spot it could have dampened my spirits, but I didn’t let it. After all the waiting and remembering, I was finally here. I had finally found my way back to the one place in the world where I had always felt happy and the sun always shone, in my mind at least.

I let down my window and breathed in a lungful of the longed-for salt-laden air as I drove around the large expanse of grass known predictably as The Green and smiled at the wooden sign featuring an image of a tall ship in full sail. The paint wasn’t quite as bright and pristine as I remembered and there was a definite lean to the stake which secured it, but I knew a sailor featured too and that there was a legend told about him on stormy nights. I couldn’t recall the details but hoped to be reacquainted with them soon.

The picturesque row of traditionally built brick and flint shops caught my eye next and looked comfortingly familiar, although perhaps a little smaller and certainly quieter. I scanned around but there wasn’t a soul in sight. It was quite deserted, but then given the gathering clouds perhaps the locals had headed home in case it rained, and of course it wasn’t the school holidays yet which would no doubt make a difference to numbers too.

I carefully swung the car around the tight bend which would lead me to the Smuggler’s Inn pub, my long-coveted Crow’s Nest Cottage and then a view of the beach.

‘I can see the sea!’ I shouted in the timeless tradition, even though there was no one to hear me.

The road dipped gently down – and the stretch of beach I had been dreaming about finally came into view. It was only the narrowest of glimpses between the two rows of houses lining the lane, but it made my heart skip nonetheless.

With no one behind me I slowed the car to a stop, pulled on the handbrake and took it out of gear. The little lane was single track, one way only and, in my opinion, offered the prettiest slice of coastal view in the whole of Norfolk. I could see the pub on the left and knew my cottage was just beyond it but set back a little with the tiniest garden and picket fence in front.