With the off shore wind and the overcast sky it was quite chilly waiting for the early morning train. I knew it was only a short journey and I could have taken a later one but I needed to get there early to get my bearings and find somewhere to stay.

I wasn’t sure what to expect getting off the train. The stories I had heard about Thetford and its inhabitants made me a little nervous to say the least, but on first impressions it seemed a normal little town. My future explorations into its past and present were to prove that this was anything but a “normal” little town.

It may have been because of the influx of foreigners (this means any body not born in Thetford) it may have been due to the mistrust of Londoners (anybody born south of Newmarket) or it may have been because I wasn’t as closely related to my family as some of them were? But it took a long time to be accepted and make contact with the type of people I was looking for, that’s not to say that there aren’t many in the area that have “pagan” beliefs, just that a lot of them aren’t the sort of people I was searching for.

Eventually, out of desperation I contacted a small group of people through an advert in a national publication only to find they were based a few miles outside Thetford. This handful of people come from a wide area some traveling many miles for their regular meetings. The strangest part was that they had been doing this for many years and to date I still haven’t met any “local people” that know anything about them. After a few letters and the occasional chat on the phone, one of them agreed to meet me and answer some of my questions. That was the start of a fascinating journey of self discovery for me (a journey that continues to this day) we met a few more times before I realised that I was no longer asking the questions but they were. Occasionally others from their group would be at these meetings with the odd question but I enjoyed these get-togethers with all their questions, in fact I looked forward to them.