Things to Do in Norfolk in May

May is pupping season for grey seals, and England's largest colony at Blakeney Point is at full throttle. The boat from Morston Quay takes 60-90 minutes. The smell hits first, fish, seaweed, and the unmistakable musk of a seal rookery. Pups arrive white and fragile, and in May you see them at their most vulnerable. Boats can't land but close to 50 m (165 ft), close enough to hear bulls bellow. The sea stays relatively calm. By autumn the same crossing can cancel half the sailings.

The Cathedral Close in May is white with cow parsley and the chestnut trees burn with candle blossom. Even at the 24°C (75°F) peak, the 900-year-old cloisters stay cool. Guided walks from the Erpingham Gate run to groups of 8-10 in May, not the 20+ of July. You get time to hear the echo in the octagon tower and spot the medieval graffiti carved into choir stalls. In the Hostry garden volunteers plant herb beds, rosemary and thyme scent the path.

May is migration month, and the North Norfolk coast ranks among Europe's great flyways. Five hides at Cley Marshes line 4 km (2.5 miles) of shingle beach, putting you eye-level with avocets, marsh harriers, and the odd spoonbill. Low spring reeds keep sightlines clear, and 70% humidity keeps birds active later into the morning. Norfolk Wildlife Trust wardens lead dawn walks from 5:30 AM; the light is extraordinary and the only sound is a bittern booming somewhere deep in the reeds. Bring binoculars, these birds aren't performing, and patience. The visitor center café pours proper coffee.

The Norfolk Broads in May feel nothing like the summer scrum. Spring rains keep water levels high, letting you nose into narrow dykes that will shrink by August. Electric boats, no licence, 6 km/h (4 mph) top speed, glide through reed beds at Hickling and Horsey without disturbing nesting marsh harriers. The smell is the thing: water mint, mud, the sharp green of new reed growth. Moor at the ruins of St. Benet's Abbey, the 11th-century monastery alone in the marshes, and you may share it with just two other boats. In July twenty might crowd the bank.

Cromer crabs peak in May, after winter the meat turns sweet and plump, and the local boats unload them every morning. The crab shacks lining the beach, the ones whose painted signs haven't changed in three decades, will dress a crab while you watch, the brown meat still warm when it reaches your hand. The 3 km (1.9 miles) cliff-top stroll east from Cromer to Overstrand runs past the chalk reef that surfaces at low tide, you'll hear oystercatchers tapping the rocks beneath you. The cliffs are falling away fast enough that the path is redrawn every few seasons, and you feel the land shifting under your feet.