A Cromer & Norfolk Coast Micro Adventure – 24 Hours of Sea Air, Steam Trains & Sunset Fish ‘n’ Chips

Sometimes the best adventures are the ones you don’t plan. In June, my partner, Karl, and I hopped in the car for what was supposed to be a quick mission — a trip from Essex to Norfolk to pick up a car part for Karl’s brother. But, as tends to happen when you put me near a map, the idea of “just popping there and back” went straight out the window.

If we were going all the way to Norfolk, we might as well make a day — no, a mini-break — out of it. Within minutes, I was scrolling last-minute Airbnbs, hunting for somewhere quirky. And oh boy, did we find it. But more on that later…

Cromer in the Morning – Bracing Breezes & Cobbled Streets

We rolled into Cromer under a bright, breezy blue sky, the kind that instantly wakes you up. First stop: a brisk walk along the seafront, the salty sea breeze on our faces, the wind tangling my hair into something resembling a bird’s nest (glamorous, I know) and seagulls squawking loudly overhead.

From there, we wandered the town’s famous old streets, ducking into quaint little shops and peeking at historic buildings. The Hotel de Paris loomed grandly over the seafront like a time traveller from the Victorian era, while Bookworms — a charming little bookshop — called to Karl's inner nerd. The highlight for me was Cromer Parish Church, its spire soaring into the clouds. We couldn’t resist a stroll on Cromer Pier to see the famous theatre and lifeboat station, both looking proud against the glittering waves. There’s something so wholesome about a pier — a slice of old seaside magic you just can’t fake and we also went to see all the tractors on the beach that haul the boats out to sea to catch fresh fish and crabs

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Sheringham & Steam

By midday we’d pointed the car toward Sheringham and The North Norfolk Railway for a vintage style trip on the Poppy Line . Riding the steam train felt like stepping back in time, the smell of coal smoke and the steady chug-chug of the engine adding to the nostalgia . At Holt, we explored the William Marriott Museum, learning about Norfolk’s railway history before heading back along the line.

The Coastal Road to Bacton

The drive from Cromer to Bacton was pure seaside bliss — stone houses, flint walls, and picture-perfect villages like Mundesley flashing by the window. The North Norfolk coast has a particular kind of charm: weathered, quietly beautiful, and just a little wild.

Our Airbnb turned out to be one of the quirkiest places we’ve ever stayed — a vintage Eriba Puck caravan parked in our hosts’ back garden, just a stone’s throw from Bacton Beach (which I swear is one of Norfolk’s best-kept secrets).

Inside, it was tiny. Two sofa seats and a table that transformed into a double bed, a two-ring gas hob, a small storage cupboard — and that was about it. Fairy lights strung up inside gave it a cosy glow, and we had full use of the toilet, shower, and bathroom in the hosts’ house.

Sunset, Screens Off, & The Sound of the Sea

That evening, we grabbed takeaway fish and chips and carried them to the clifftop. Sitting there, watching the sun sink into the horizon over Bacton Beach, was nothing short of magical. No screens, no stress — just the rhythmic shush of waves and the warmth of the setting sun.

Karl went back to set up the bed in the caravan while I lingered a little longer, letting the sea air clear my head. It’s amazing how restorative these stolen moments can be. By the time we tucked in for the night, we felt like we’d done something good for ourselves — fresh air, plenty of exercise on our walks, and a complete change of pace and scenery.

Dawn Coffee & DIY Sausage Baps

I woke early, just as dawn painted the sky pale pink. I brewed a coffee and wandered to the beach to watch early morning dog walkers leaving their footprints in the sand. The same waves that lulled me to sleep now beckoned me to explore the beach further - but we had to eat, pack up and get an early start.

Breakfast was an improvised affair — sausages in a frying pan with no oil or butter (we forgot both), but honestly, it turned into a healthier sausage bap for two.

We packed up in the tiny caravan and said our goodbyes, only slightly regretting not climbing the huge scaffolding tower in the garden to get stupendous views out to sea. Our host swore they were incredible, but in the dark, fairy lights or not, it looked like a ladder to certain doom for those afraid of heights.

Family History, Bats, & Lighthouses

We detoured to the village of Trunch, where my late Great Uncle and Aunt once lived, for a wander by the church. Then it was on to The Great Barn at Paston — now a bat sanctuary — and the medieval church nearby, where we took a slow lap around the gravestones. Our final stop before heading back to Cromer was Happisburgh Lighthouse, its candy-cane stripes bright against the Norfolk sky.

The Cromer Crab & Lobster Festival – A Perfect Finale

Back in Cromer, we rounded off our whirlwind trip at the annual Crab & Lobster Festival. Local food, crafts, and music gave the town an even more festive buzz than usual — a fitting finale before we turned the car south, picked up the car part for my partners brother, and headed back toward Essex.

Why Micro Adventures Matter

Here’s the thing: you don’t need a week off work or a big budget to feel the benefits of a break. We paid just £40 a night for that quirky little caravan, and in less than 24 hours we’d filled our lungs with sea air, our heads with new sights, and our hearts with shared moments.

Mini-breaks and micro adventures like this aren’t just good for your mental health — they’re great for your relationship, too. They remind you that there’s a whole world out there to explore, and that joy can be found in the simplest things: fish and chips on a cliff, a steam train ride, or coffee at dawn on an empty beach.

So next time you have a spare day, go find your own Cromer. You never know where a “quick last minute trip” might take you.