Wells-next-the-Sea, Norfolk
If you haven’t yet been to the runaway winner of the first Sunday Times Beach of the Year award, you should clear your diary. North Norfolk’s prettiest little town is having a moment.
What you’ll find is an immensity of flat sands stretching away towards an often distant sea, backed by a fragrant forest of Scots pines and fringed with the cutest beach huts in Britain.
Despite its popularity, there’s always room here: walk through the woods towards Holkham, enter the beach at the far end of the huts and, even on a blazing bank holiday, you’ll find a private spot.
Wells fans rarely bother walking to the shore to swim, preferring instead to romp in the Run, the channel linking the harbour to the open sea that they share with the seals basking on the other side.
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The beach car park, with a cafe, toilets and showers, provides easy access, and you can bring the dog, as long as you head up to the Holkham end. To make the most of the Wells experience, though, you’ll need a hut, and here’s the secret: the Pinewoods campsite behind the beach has a handful for hire, but you absolutely must book ahead (from £16 a day; pinewoods.co.uk).
So, the beach itself is wonderful — but that’s not the only reason Wells took the title. After years of sitting on its laurels, the town — a 20-minute walk along the raised bank, or a £1.50 ride on the vintage miniature railway — has rediscovered ambition.
Once a dingy quayside boozer, the Golden Fleece has reopened as a bright dining pub with a lovely outside terrace. Phil Platten is opening the Fryer’s Bounty, a new seafood restaurant, next door to his eponymous chippy. Up Staithe Street, Bang in Wells is an upmarket B&B and coffee shop named after Bang Between the Pitons, the St Lucia restaurant run by the owner’s late father, Lord Glenconner (doubles from £100, B&B; banginwells.co.uk).
And dominating the harbour like a pirate ship that has arrived to paint the town red is the Albatros, a 19th-century Dutch clipper turned real-ale pub. Go for the pancakes, the blues and a pint of Wherry — or stay on board (doubles from £60, B&B; albatroswells.co.uk).
To spend a day in Wells — or, better, a week — is to immerse yourself in pretty much every seaside cliché we’ve come to treasure. It’s good for sandcastles, beach cricket and seashell hunting. You can also take a leisurely boat trip around the harbour (£7.50, children £5; wellsharbourtours.com).
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You can catch crabs from the quayside. You can buy tacky souvenirs, most of which feature the beach huts, and you can spend the change in one of the nation’s most genteel amusement arcades. You can lunch on crab sandwiches from the Picnic Hut (73 Staithe Street), washed down with local cider from Whin Hill, in Stearman’s Yard (whinhillnorfolkcider.co.uk). You can catch your supper on a sea fishing trip (£35 for a half-day; norfolkseafishing.co.uk) or join the queue at the wildly popular quayside chippies French’s and Platten’s.
And once a month, when the sunburnt crowds have departed for the day, Wells reveals its final secret. Spend the day there on July 19, August 18 or September 16, then wait. If it’s a clear evening, you might see the full moon turn the ebbing tide into a shimmering lake of silver. This is the place where the British seaside touches the sublime. Cue violins, roll credits. You can go home now.