Saturday 28th November 2015

Friday

A day largely of work and travel.

The alarm went off at five, as Jools had to be at Martin Mill to catch the quarter past six train, what with waking up and all the other stuff that preparing for work bring, we need an hour.

At six I take her down the hill to the station saying I will collect her from work at one, before driving back home to start work so all tasks would be done before twelve to allow me to get to Hythe. And then it was work, with meetings, mor meetings and IT failures to cope with. Access to the intranet was impossible, until it was too late in the morning to get the task I need to, done. So, something else to be left over until Monday. I fed the cats an extra large meal, ready for the evening, packed my stuff, check my camera, loaded the car and was ready.

As I have said before, getting north of London on a Friday afternoon, well almost any time other than in the middle of night is a mare, which is why we both took the afternoon off so we could arrive at a decent time at our digs. I arrived at Hythe with 15 minutes to spare, dealt with more work issues as I waited, then was ready when Jools came out.

That done it was all a rush to get up the motorway to Dartford the up the M11 to Cambridge before the rush hour starts, then getting to the hotel once we got to Lincoln. As you might expect, as we got nearer London traffic got heavier and heavier, and then we saw the matrix signs saying there were delays at Dartford. You might have thought since it all went on number plate recognition, the days when there would be queues at the crossing were long behind us, but no. In fact the queues only held us up for about ten minutes, and the traffic in all lanes moved quick enough. And then at the portal to the tunnel, we all sped up and on we went into Essex.

The M11 was also busy, but we made good time, and it was all going well until we joined onto the A14, then it all got snarled up. The M11 I know well, it being one of the routes we take when we go to visit Mother, but north of Saffron Walden I have only travelled on that once before. But as the rolling countryside of Essex changes into the flatter farmland of Cambridgeshire, a light rain begins to fall, and the traffic gets ever heavier. But once again, we kept on moving, sometimes at a crawl, but we were making progress.

Onto the A1, on which I put the hammer down and tried to press on, making us as near to Lincoln before darkness fell. In fact we had got to Newark and on the final stretch to Lincoln when night fell. We programmed the sat nav for the last few miles to the hotel. And it was on the ring road, in those last 5 miles, where we encounter the worst of the traffic of the journey. In fact, the worse traffic was coming towards us, and at just about half five, we pulled up outside the guesthouse.

We were taken up to our room, and out the window we could see the three illuminated towers of the cathedral. We had arrived.

No time to waste, we put our walking boots on and coats on and set out into the Lincoln night.

We walk from the B&B, turning towards the city centre until a short sharp shower forces us into The Stags Head for a warming drink until the shower past. And in doing so I had to second worse pint of the year. But we had stayed dry.

We walked to the three illuminated towers of Lincoln Cathedral, down Bailgate, along cobbled streets, timber framed houses, warming taverns and restaurants.

At the top of Steep Hill (more of that in a while), we pause to look in the Cathedral Close for more shots, and what a sight with the cathedral all lit up, and we had the whole Close to ourselves.

On down the cobbled street to the top of the aptly names Steep Hill, with yet more photos being taken. The rain on the cobbles was making the scene wonderfully colourful. However, with the rain falling harder, we decide to find somewhere to eat. After finding the ribs restaurant fully booked, we went to the Indian next door, and sat down to fine curries and cold beer. All with fine service, you really can't beat an Indian when all else fails.

Outside again and the rain is hammering down, we have no idea where the tax rank is, so the only real choice is to walk to the railway station and hope they might be there. It was grim now, the rain had soaked through our clothes, and we were beginning to get chilly.

We have to wait ten minutes, but then a cab arrived, we climbed in in, and in 5 minutes were back outside the guesthouse, and all for a fiver! It was nearly nine in the evening, and like most days, we were shattered.