This church is a familiar sight on the Fakenham to Swaffham road. I always associate it with trips to Walsingham, since I most often see it en route to the Catholic shrine there, and again on returning - but then, in the dark, floodlighting makes its stone walls glow like honey. A beautiful landmark, always to be anticipated.

All Saints' churchwardens are to be congratulated for opening it everyday, maintaining a friendly rest stop for travellers and pilgrims. The church combines an ancient calm with a clear, bright, neatly-kept worship-space, an unforgettable delight.

From the outside the structure is easy to read, the central tower punctuating simple nave and chancel. Everything appears Saxon apart from the window tracery, and the cap on the tower, which Mortlock sees as continental in style, while Pevsner argues that this is what would have been there originally.

Inside, the building is more complex, a succession of rooms unfolding as you move east. The first arch (strictly, the tower arch) has the royal arms above it, and is later and pointed, but the second arch, the chancel arch, is rugged and Saxon. Modern furnishings interact with early 14th century windows to create a sense of the unfamiliar, but it works. Everything is understated and harmonious.

There is a doorway halfway up the eastern wall of the nave on the north side. Obviously, this was the doorway into the roodloft, and access to it was from the tower stairway. A window above the arch is more curious. Obviously Saxon, it lets into the space of the tower. Perhaps it allowed the gospel to be read from up there.

A ledger stone beneath the tower remembers the wonderfully named Kingborrow Martin, a woman. Where on earth did that name come from?

Simon Knott, November 2004

you can also read an introduction: Ancient of Days