We find ourselves in unprecedented times. It has been disconcerting and saddening to see empty squares and shuttered streets around the world, and our hearts go out to all those affected, wherever they are.

For a while, we may all need to stay grounded. One day, piazzas will fill with selfie-takers again and bistros will brim with animated chatter.

While we wait, we reflect on what draws us to the places we love.

My family’s love affair with the county began when my grandparents met at a Norfolk house party just after the First World War when my grandfather was staying with his recently married sister. 

Its lure has held us ever since and as children we spent our summer holidays on the north Norfolk coast. My parents would build a nest in the dunes while we roamed through pine woods and explored the great expanse of Holkham beach, taking that timeless, long walk to the sea over warm sand, all under a never-ending Norfolk sky.

I made the permanent move from London in 1986 and still marvel at the quality of the light – it has extraordinary clarity, an almost Nordic sheen. Somehow sunny days in Norfolk seem brighter to me than anywhere else in the country.

A walk along the shoreline from Trimingham to Cromer at low tide then back along the cliffs, or a long winter’s meander through the beautiful Bure valley, these are my paths well travelled.

I will never tire of the Norfolk countryside from woodland to Broad, but the university city of Norwich – a vibrant, technological, cultural, commercial and artistic medley sitting happily within its medieval masterplan – is a very powerful draw.

In more normal times, when working in the Norwich office, I always made a point of a lunchtime stroll – good for enriching the spirit as well as stretching the legs. Enter the cathedral close to be propelled from the hurly-burly of city life to sudden tranquility and a wonderful architectural patchwork dominated by the cathedral itself, one of the greatest Norman buildings in England.

Or amble down St Andrews Hill, perhaps, and take a left turn by the church into a short alleyway where, to my mind, lies a truly incredible sight. A wall of sumptuous, dark flint. The building dates from the 14th century and, amongst other incarnations, was home to the first mayor of Norwich, William Appleyard. Here the flint is not only expensively knapped, but squared and ordered in size; row upon row of exquisitely crafted stones so tightly packed that the mortar is barely visible.

In a city where there is so much to see, it may seem strange to single out a wall, but I promise you it’s worth spending a moment just to contemplate the skill. A chance to stop, take stock and be lost in admiration.

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