Chris Sugden was a good companion for more than 40 years along the Trans-Norfolk Highway.

Remarkably, in all that time it was extremely rare for me to address him by his real name.

Therein rested the tantalising talent of a scholarly lad from West Runton, who transformed himself so effectively into the brash and brilliant Sid Kipper, our county’s leading cultural ambassador of the age glorying in parochial habits of St Just-near-Trunch.

He effortlessly knitted together folk-singing, music-making, storytelling, broadcasting and writing with glorious threads of you’ll-get-it-in-a-minute humour, hoisting the Norfolk flag in parts others simply did not reach or even contemplate.

His recent death at 72  will prompt countless fond memories and warm tributes  across a wide area from national folk festivals to homespun gatherings in local pubs and village halls where the Kipper family, Sid and father Henry, first made a mark as defenders of a proud musical tradition spiced with doubtful  history and mutual witty wordplay.

Father, brought to cheerfully cantankerous life by Dick Nudds, basked in his reputation for having one of the foremost voices in the country …”but we don’t know who might have the other three”. The hunt continued for seven intriguing years.

Sid launched his solo career in 1991 with a performance in Chichester, memorable for his own expert summary: “I started singing The Stick of Rhubarb and right from the start they was with me. What’s more they was still with me at the end which is always a good sign ‘cos sometimes  they sneak off if you sing with your eyes closed and you don’t notice till there’s no applause."

I worked with him many times on stage and radio, delightfully challenging occasions as he stepped away from normal thought processes and explored the most unlikely avenues for fresh inspiration.

As his fame spread, I suggested he made a habit of capturing the true spirit of Norfolk, teaching it new tricks and then sending it on its way to run riot across the land.

A regular on BBC Radio Norfolk’s zany panel game Should The Team Think, Sid invariably took simple subjects to new planes of meaning and mirth. Chairman David Clayton tried to sum it up: “From the first time he opened his mouth on the first programme at Hunstanton Princess Theatre in 1994, I marvelled at Sid’s peculiar and hilarious take on Norfolk life. I assumed I’d get used to it. I don’t think I ever did. Then I thought I might have stopped laughing if I’d started understanding him."

We teamed up twice for shows on the end of Cromer Pier to prove conclusively we were not one and the same person. Sid told gossip columnists: “The twist is we’re not going to say which is which on the night. That way anyone who thinks I’m him or he’s me won’t be disillusioned."

Those sessions of non-stop laughter refused to stop echoing in the background  as I conducted what  Sid assured me was a “world exclusive” interview in July 2012  regarding his painful decision to call it a day on the performing front.

Rumours had been circulating and a lot of  followers were concerned at non-appearance of The Trunch Trumpet. official organ of the Sid Kipper Fan Club. My main problems were whether to call him Chris or Sid and how deeply to probe the inner feelings of someone I had admired for so long.

“Sid is retiring  to spend more time with his ferrets,” came as no real surprise. Perhaps I could have a word with Chris to shed a bit more light on the  matter? The mood changed dramatically as this former teacher and  son of a Methodist parson admitted to being worn down by mental and physical pressures. He couldn’t rule out the possibility that leading two lives for so many years had taken its toll.

Time to bid the  scene a fond farewell at the Whitby Folk Festival after his 60th birthday and then step back to recuperate and resume his writing career. We kept in regular touch as it became clear how the rich Kipper legacy, musical walnut shells, hilarious novels and all, would be firmly embraced by so many in Norfolk and beyond who like their entertainment with a sideways edge.

Adrian Bell, Sid’s long-time publisher at the Mousehold Press in Norwich – and his tutor at  the former Keswick Teacher Training College – said: “Underneath his humour  with its characteristically Norfolk  deadpan delivery and irreverence for figures of authority, there’s  a seriousness of intent.

“He was a countryman at heart, unimpressed  by bright city lights and  seductions of ‘modernisation’ and other contemporary buzz-words. His wit was shot through with shafts of wisdom.”

Perhaps the likely lad from St Just-near-Trunch, a multi-talented but modest megastar, might add with a twinkle in his eye: “This truly must be The End of an Error."