25 June: Heading for Norfolk

Some places on the far side of the Pennines.  This may be a sacrificial lamb if things get out of kilter earlier in the week.

25 June was a transfer day. We left Ingleby at 7 (having taken some photos of the garden and the fantastic avenue up the drive).


We then battled the road “works” (no-one was in sight, let alone working) on the A19 and on down the A1(M), M622, M18 and M180. The only notable sight on this stretch was the number of power stations in South Yorkshire: if they are coal fired the place is climate change hell, if nuclear, I am glad we didn't stay there, and am sorry I didn't get a few DNA samples from the locals for later study.

After this stretch of easy driving we turned on to the A15 for a drive down to Lincoln. This is a two lane road with continual heavy traffic. No wonder it is a casualty red spot. After an our we got to Lincoln where the cathedral stood out from afar. Parking was easy to find (and compared to York modestly priced.)

The cathedral was magnificent both in terms of architecture and information. They also were not fussed about photographs being taken so I took a few. The wood carvings were by William Fairbank and the pots/candleholders by Robin Welch. The latter are apparently at the technical limit of what can be achieved on a potters wheel.

Much of the stained glass was glorious. I was particularly taken by that in the chapter house which told the story of the Cathedral. My best image was that of the roundhead soldiers attacking the Cathedral. The most colourful pane 'in life' was of the Great Fire which trashed much of the building in 1142. In image it was naff, so you won't get to see that. One set of chapels are devoted to services and included memorials to people killed in the Indian Mutiny and the South African War (aka the Boer War?)

An interesting aspect was the material about the Lincoln Imp.  This was a small carving depicting an evil imp.  As far as I could work out, the chief challenge was being able to spot ut without detailed directions.  We and others when we were there failed.  With directions it was merely interesting to try to work out why one had bothered.  It's better to see an image of the cathedral towers.

The only annoyance about the place was a gardener using a motor mower in the cloisters. This totally stuffed our peaceful cup of coffee. Probably it was more than his job's worth to come up with a quieter alternative.

We found our way out of Lincoln and headed for Norwich(ish). In Kings Lynn we took a pause from the heavy traffic on carriageways designed for drays, and entered our first Tescos. What a horrible place, especially compared to the peaceful Sainsburys in York. It is hard to put my finger on what was bad, but everything seemed garish and tawdry: rather like a Lowest Common Denominator exemplified. It was also crowded and I will blame Tescos for most everything wrong with the UK (except the genetic defects induced by nuclear power stations).

Moving on down the A47 we found that Ripon was only a practise run for Dereham in the matter of bad signage. (see a couple of day's time for more on Dereham's signs.) We got to Norwich when we didn't expect to and fought our way back to Wymondham and thence to Wicklewood where we met up with Mary and have now established base camp 2 at the Coach House.