My musical pilgrimage through Olde England: ‘I could hear the bells, taste the wild garlic, touch the mossy stones’

Travelling west from Norwich to Cornwall, a musician finds inspiration in ancient rituals and sights, from May Day celebrations to bluebell dells

We’re Olde England bound / Our stories are written in the ground

It was a spring morning in Norwich, the air alive with birdsong and promise, as I packed my guitar into the car and looked to the road ahead. This fine city, with easy access to the Norfolk waterways and shores, had anchored much of my adult life and was a wonderful place to have lived and grown. Yet I had become restless, like a guest who had overstayed his welcome and yearned for fresh horizons.