One town, refronted
There was an older Cromer of brick, flint, and beach cobble, huddled around the church and the gangways. The resort kept that town and put a new face on it. By the early nineteenth century, the district council's appraisal records, many humble brick and cobble buildings had been rebuilt or given smart new stucco fronts, and the Victorians carried on in brick and terracotta. The old Ship Hotel on Church Street still shows the trick, rendered at the front and brick and flint at the back.
Then there is the Cromer the railway built. The line reached the town from North Walsham in 1877, a loop to the beach station followed ten years later, and cheap materials arrived in bulk along with the visitors: late Victorian and Edwardian villas, terraces, and hotels, thrown up quickly for a resort that had suddenly become fashionable, with bay windows and rounded fronts turned to catch the sea view. The Hotel de Paris and the Cliftonville stand at the grand end of it. Much of the housing behind them is the same period and the same ambition on a smaller budget.
Some of those bays were cut into walls that were already standing. The council's own records carry late Victorian applications to insert oriels and bays into existing buildings, at first floor and sometimes at second. The three ages fail in different ways, and I have to know which building I am looking at, and which parts of it arrived later.
Exposure is the whole story
A seafront or cliff-top elevation in Cromer takes salt-laden wind straight off the North Sea, and the seaward face of a building runs years ahead of the sheltered face in wear. That drives most of what I find here:
- Pointing and render. Salt and driving rain find every weakness. Cement render on a soft brick or flint wall traps the moisture behind it, blows, and then the wall behind the render is worse than it would have been with nothing.
- Windows and joinery. Large Victorian sashes and bays on an exposed elevation, painted with something impermeable, quietly rotting where the paint held the water in.
- Roofs and chimneys. The town's own roof is red pantile, with slate arriving on the later and grander buildings once the railway made it cheap. Both sit high and exposed, and they fail in different ways: pantiles lift and slip in an onshore gale, while slate holds until its nails corrode and then lets go in patches. Stacks and flashings are where the money goes on either one. Where a roof has been recovered in something heavier than it was built for, the structure underneath is worth a look.
- Parapets and rainwater goods. Grand fronts hide flat roofs and hidden gutters. They are the leaks nobody sees from the pavement.
- Conservation area. The seafront and the historic core have been a conservation area since 1975, extended in 1993 to take in residential streets to the south and west, and the boundary leaves a good deal of Cromer outside it. Whether your street falls inside changes what you can do to the windows and the roof, and it is worth knowing before you exchange. North Norfolk District Council is the authority.
Which survey
The Victorian and Edwardian stock, exposed and much-altered, generally wants the depth of a Level 3 (Building Survey), and anything on the seafront certainly does. A conventional, sheltered, inter-war house in sound condition may be well served by a Level 2 (Homebuyer) survey. Send me the address and I'll tell you which one it needs.
Common questions
What is different about surveying a seafront property in Cromer?
Exposure. A seaward elevation takes salt-laden wind straight off the North Sea, and it runs years ahead of the sheltered face of the same building in wear. Pointing, render, joinery, flashings and chimneys all fail faster and earlier on that side, and a survey that does not treat the two faces of the building differently is not telling you much.
The house has a rendered front. Is it a Victorian house?
Often it's older than the front suggests. The resort re-fronted the fishing town: by the early nineteenth century many humble brick and cobble buildings had been rebuilt or given smart stucco façades, and the Victorians carried on in brick and terracotta. The old Ship Hotel on Church Street still shows the trick, rendered at the front and brick and flint at the back. What sits behind the render changes how the building behaves and what it needs, so I look for the seams.
Is my street in the conservation area?
It may well be, and the boundary leaves a good deal of Cromer outside it. The seafront and the historic core have been a conservation area since 1975, and it was extended in 1993 to take in residential streets to the south and west. North Norfolk District Council holds the boundary and will tell you where your street falls. It changes what you can do to the windows and the roof, so it's worth knowing before you exchange.
The house is rendered. Is that a problem?
It depends what the render is. Cement render on a soft brick or flint wall traps moisture behind it, then blows, and the wall behind ends up worse than if it had been left alone. In an exposed coastal position that process runs faster. A breathable lime render is doing the job it was designed for.
How close to the cliff is too close?
That question is answered by the coastal management plan and the local authority's shoreline position, not by a building surveyor's opinion, and it bears on insurance and lending long before it bears on the roof. I'll tell you honestly what I can see on inspection and where you need coastal or geotechnical advice instead.
Are the Victorian villas well built?
They were built quickly and confidently, for a resort that had suddenly become fashionable, and the care did not always keep up with the ambition. Big sashes and bay windows on exposed elevations, high slate roofs, parapets and hidden gutters behind grand fronts. They reward a Level 3 survey and they punish a cursory one.