Why Norwich still has so many medieval churches

By the end of the Middle Ages Norwich had more than fifty parish churches packed inside its walls, a greater concentration of towers, naves and churchyards than anywhere in England outside London. Wool, the river and continental trade paid for that building boom. Then the city's fortunes cooled, and because there was little money for grand rebuilding in the centuries that followed, the medieval fabric quietly survived. Around thirty of those churches still stand: some in daily use, some cared for by a heritage trust, others given over to new purposes.

This route runs a little over two miles on mostly level ground and takes three to four hours at a gentle pace. A few practical points before you set off:

• Timing: many churches open late morning to mid-afternoon on weekdays and Saturdays from spring to early autumn. Winter opening is far patchier, and doors are usually locked outside advertised hours.
• Worship comes first: check for lunchtime services and daily offices, when visitors are politely asked to wait or return later.
• Money: entry is generally free, but these buildings are kept going on donations. A few pounds from each visitor genuinely matters.
• Ground: cobbles around Tombland, uneven ledger stones inside, low thresholds and a step or two into porches. Sensible shoes earn their keep.

Start at the Market: St Peter Mancroft

Begin beside the Guildhall and the market stalls, with St Peter Mancroft rising on the western side. This is the largest of the city's parish churches, and its tower — close to thirty metres to the battlement — is the landmark by which Norwich people navigate the centre. The building is essentially fifteenth-century Perpendicular, paid for by prosperous mercantile families, and the interior is generous: a wide nave, tall arcades, a long clerestory and a fifteenth-century font with an exceptionally fine carved cover. The monuments repay slow reading; several commemorate men who traded cloth and worsted through the nearby riverside quays.

Walk down towards St Stephen's Street and glance at St Stephen's, whose ornate tower is one of the most flamboyant in the city. It stands above a street that was once thick with coaching inns and is a good reminder that Norwich's churches were built where people actually lived and worked.

Pottergate and the Maddermarket: two churches in 200 yards

Head north up Pottergate. St John Maddermarket is easy to miss — its west front sits almost flush with the shops — but push the door and you find one of the most atmospheric interiors in Norwich, quietly Anglo-Catholic in character, with a rood screen and a strong sense of continuous worship. The name comes from the madder root used by dyers, sold in the market that once occupied the lane outside.

A minute away stands St Gregory's, another fifteenth-century church with a handsome tower and a fine carved font, now in occasional use rather than regular parish worship. This pair sums up the Norwich pattern: churches built shoulder to shoulder, hemmed in by later houses, their towers still punching above the rooflines. Look up often, or you will walk straight past half of them.

Tombland, the Cathedral and the friars

Continue towards Tombland, the old Saxon marketplace and the highest ground in the centre. St George's, Tombland sits by the cathedral gate, a parish church with a good fifteenth-century tower and a peaceful churchyard among the busiest footfall in the city.

The cathedral itself is not a parish church, but it explains the shape of everything around it: a Benedictine priory founded in the Norman period, with the second tallest spire in England and a cloister whose roof bosses — several hundred of them — are worth a good twenty minutes on their own. Nearby, St Andrew's Hall preserves the nave of the Dominican friary, one of the finest surviving friary naves in the country and a reminder that Norwich also housed several large monastic houses inside its walls.

King Street and St Julian's

Drop down to King Street, once the city's principal commercial thoroughfare and now much quieter. St Julian's is small, intimate and one of the most visited churches in East Anglia, because Julian of Norwich was an anchoress here in the late fourteenth century — the first woman known to have written a book in English. The church was damaged by bombing in 1942 and rebuilt; the anchorite's cell has been reconstructed beside it, and the atmosphere is one of deliberate stillness rather than display.

Further along, St Peter Parmentergate shows what happens when a medieval church loses its congregation: the tower and shell remain, adapted to a thoroughly modern use. It is a good place to reflect on how Norwich has kept its churches standing — not by freezing them, but by letting them change.

Across the Wensum: Coslany and St Helen's

Cross the river at Fye Bridge into the old Coslany district, where you will find St Michael Coslany, its tower resting on a round base of Saxon or Norman date, topped by a later belfry — a rare survival in an urban setting. St Mary Coslany and the neighbouring churches here have mostly gone over to secular uses, which makes the surviving fabric all the more interesting to read.

Finish at St Helen's, Bishopsgate, tucked inside the precinct of the Great Hospital. It is one of the smallest churches in England, with a thirteenth-century feel and a remarkable intimacy, and the hospital's cloister and medieval infirmary hall sit just beyond the churchyard. End your walk here over a cup of tea, or time your visit for evensong at the cathedral and hear the buildings doing what they were built for. Either way, you will have walked through six centuries in an afternoon.