Lincolnshire

I entered this story in a competition; it didn't win so I can post it online now.  

"What’s Your Hurry?"

The gutters ran like rivers down Lincoln’s tumbling, cobbled “Steep Hill”. Tourists were trapped in a vortex of swirling rain, black clouds, lightning, sunlight and rainbows, all accompanied by rolling thunder. We scuttled away to our car while others waited-out the storm in the Cathedral. 

My second visit to the county was better. I remember a fenland farm with a pretty cottage, birds, orchards, orchids, and hedges. The view was as idyllic as any in Constable’s Suffolk, but it took hours to get there because of a convoy of gigantic tractors that stretched from Boston to Spilsby. 

I supposed that the farmers hunched their shoulders, turned up the radio and thought, “We grow your potatoes, cut your flowers and make your sausages and anyway, since Lincolnshire is not on the way to anywhere, why would you need to get past me? What’s your hurry?”  

Those two unfortunate visits put me off so that, until this summer, I missed out on the delights of a traditional seaside resort at Cleethorpes, Lowth’s busy food market, the historic quarter of Lincoln, the cluttered antique shops of Horncastle and the rolling Lincolnshire Wolds. 

We stayed for a week in a self-catering barn conversion that cost £200 a night. Cotswold prices? Absolutely not. For this we had an indoor swimming pool, sauna, hot tub and twelve beds. We also took on an annex and a pretty cottage on the farm, all beautifully renovated with local brick, exposed timbers and white plaster. We needed the space because we were there with my son’s special school.

While the teachers took our teenagers out to aquariums, museums, the sea-side and other local attractions, we were free to explore the Wolds; a great place to take your time while walking, cycling or even motoring from pub to pub.  Along the way we found pretty villages with ancient churches to visit and meandering brooks to walk beside. 

The natives were exceptionally hospitable and would launch into a random conversation given the slightest excuse. We soon caught-on that “What’s your hurry?” could be the perfect slogan for the local tourist board, but it goes deeper than just tourism, it is how people live their lives and deal with each other. Apply it to eating, reading, sight-seeing and exploring and you can’t argue with it as a philosophy but I tried the “Lincolnshire Method” back home in my village and was mostly ignored. 

Admittedly, Lincolnshire is in a bit of a time-warp. You can find good food, but it is mostly hearty, traditional fare rather than anything fancy. It is certainly no place to be a vegetarian. Broadband, if you can find it, is often so slow that the connection keeps dropping out. But, if you are looking for escape, not in a hurry and not on the way to anywhere in particular, then I would strongly recommend that you visit the Wolds before they are discovered by the weekend supplements.