Good morning and it is with regret that I must inform you of my continuing with this blog.
Once more it is my intention to do a retrospective catch up as I have been a little remiss of late and gotten a wee bit behind.
We are now in the Lincolnshire town of Louth where we arrived last Saturday. We love this town as, although devoid of the quaintness of some others, it has every facility imaginable. Louth has a population of just 16,000 but has a wonderful array of specialty shops of which many large cities would be envious. Its cheese shop, while of little interest to me, is known throughout the land with probably half a dozen or more of both bakeries and butchers together with delis and the like. We could go to a different Tea/Coffee shop daily and a new pub each night still not have tried them all by week’s end. Combine this with thrice weekly markets and you have a foodie’s heaven. For the ladies an impressive selection of boutique cloths shops is available together with the odd gentleman’s outfitter. Our cottage is very central and so we can visit any of the aforementioned with ease and at our leisure. Louth also has a few favourite sons (and possibly daughter as well) including Joseph Banks, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Jeffery Archer and Sir John Franklin.
As said, we arrived last Saturday and have been quite busy since.
St. John’s Church Louth
Also this is probably the best cottage that we have had to date.
Our cottage in Louth
Sunday, being a little nicer than we had become used to in the Lakes, we decided to head for the seaside. Having first checked with locals in the newsagent we decided to head first for Mablethorpe and then follow the coast down to Skegness. Skegness we were told was a cut above Blackpool and as that was one of the places we had wished to go but didn’t, we were quite pleased to have Skegness as a substitute. Now then, you may think that I have been a little harsh in my treatment of Ramblers, Train spotters, Steam enthusiasts and the multitude of other English hobbyist but the seaside sets the bar a few feet higher. All of the others I have a little empathy with (maybe not Train Spotting), but the English Seaside NO. Now by saying it had turned out a bit nicer is all relative and still well short of worrying any record keepers, but 15 was still quite pleasant providing one kept wrapped up a bit. People were SWIMMING where only yesterday I am sure that icebergs had posed no small threat to shipping. Donkey rides, yes if you must, but feed the poor things. They reminded me of those Mules they paint stripes on in Tiajuana for you to be photographed on. But the real turn off for me are the many and massive amusement arcades and cheap trinket shops which attract the Englishman and his family and their money by the bus load.
Another phenomena of the English seaside is the beach “Chalets” and the caravan parks, both of which exist by the thousand and can stretch for miles.
The Lincolnshire Seaside
For a complete change, Monday saw us in the Shire’s capital, Lincoln an interesting city and one of only two in England to display an original Magna Carta. (The other we had seen in Salisbury on a previous visit). Two further Carta (don’t know the plural) are with the British Library and this completes the list of the four known remaining originals from 1215 or thereabouts. Lincoln’s cathedral is amongst the most impressive in all Britain. Apart from the small enclave of historical buildings in the city centre, grouped around the Castle and cathedral, Lincoln offers little to engage the tourist mind for more than a few hours. Indeed, this is true of the whole county which is by and large flat being made up mainly of drained marshland (fens) dotted with villages blessed with Old Danish (those ending in ‘by or ‘thorpe) or French names. It was for this reason that we looked further afield for the remainder of the week and found ourselves in Norfolk on Tuesday at the home of the Windsor’s, Sandringham. This was without doubt the best garden of the tour so far and Mrs Currin was in heaven. They have also a great little museum which houses (amongst other things) a collection of Royal coaches and cars. The house itself was perhaps a little disappointing, but when one considers it is still a working house I guess it is not too bad.
Sandringham
For Wednesday and Thursday, to cut down on travel, we again decided to overnight in a hotel as we wished to see quite a chunk of the Peak District. And so it was.
The drive to the Peaks is only just over 100 miles but whenever one is of the motorway distance travelled per hour reduces somewhat and so can take a wee while to get anywhere. We arrived at Chatsworth just in time for a late lunch, which was well catered for in the estate’s grounds. Chatsworth is owned by the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire who, like many of their ilk, have fallen on relatively hard times, thanks mainly to the rigid application of estate duty ( around 80% of the estates value) and have opened their homes as a way of funding this. They also “pay off” Her Majesty’s Customs and Excise by way of rent in their own home. Anyway it is all to our good fortune. Chatsworth is quite high on the list of England’s best Stately Homes. In Contrast to Sandringham, Chatsworth House is simply amazing with art by Reynolds, Gainsborough and van Dyke among others hanging freely on the walls and sculptor in the library that any museum would be proud of. The grounds though were not up to Sandringham, not even close even allowing for the later season up here. Sandringham occupies some 20,000 acres and Chatsworth 35,000 acres so they are both quite big.
Chatsworth
Our pub for the night was at pass overlooking one of the Dales and gave us great views.
Next day we took another road trip around the Peaks and visited many small towns and villages all of which have their own story. Perhaps the most remarkable is that of Eyam, the small town that in the 1600s suffered an outbreak of the Plague. It is not known how the plague first arrived but the villagers decided that Eyam would not be to blame for passing it on and so they shut their village off from the outside world, with supplies being delivered and payment duly left a safe distance out of town. Many of the villagers died and these are commemorated by Plaques on the houses in which they had lived. We read one telling of all eight of the occupants of the cottage (built mid 1500s) having succumbed. Very sad.
Bakewell has a much better reason for fame, the Bakewell Pudding (or Tart depending on which shop). These are small pastry delicacies which have made the small town the tourist attraction is is today.
There are many small towns which should also be mentioned but time does not permit.
Peak District Village
To my great surprise, Mrs Currin suggested a visit to one of the many underground caverns around the area. The one we had chosen owes its existence to a not too successful foray into lead mining a couple or so hundred years ago. So you float down his miner’s tunnel in a little boat, with a hard hat on to protect ones head from the low ceiling. We were thus entertained by our young guide for about an hour, visiting one large cavern boasting a couple of six inch stalactites hanging up there in the gloom. Very enjoyable, but as a caving experience after Waitomo NZ and the Cango Caves in Oudtshoorn, South Africa, this didn’t really measure up. Maybe I have been spoiled. It could also have been the weather, that great British institution, by mid afternoon it was still just 4 degrees and we had had hail and sleety rain. Makes it hard to be too enthusiastic about six inch dangly things in caves.
Mrs Currin, the Speleologist.
Anyway, after another couple of great days out we headed back to Louth and have decided to have a day off tomorrow. This will be our first such day off since our arrival six weeks ago.
Our cottage is in a place called Spout Yard and we have just been to the little park at the end, Spout Lane Park which is quite nice. A man was there selling Tea and Coffee but he had no customers whilst we were there. I hope he does well on a nice day. We had thought that such a handsome church deserved a good looking at, also I had heard that there was a substantial set of stairs to be climbed. Both assumptions proved correct and I can honestly say that I have had good exercise today, first up then down one of the tightest and certainly the highest spiral staircase that I have ever attempted. The view from the top was stupendous, but as I am not too keen on heights I didn’t dally too long. Mrs Currin enjoyed a hot cup of coffee, so all was well.
Oh. I forgot to mention that on the way down here from the lakes we stopped off at a small WW2 airfield museum which has been left much as it was 70 years past and proved an enjoyable stopover. Mrs Currin said she was happy to read her Times as I wandered around, but I have to report that I found her in the NAFFI drinking coffee some time later.
Well, that is about all I have to offer at this stage, except to say that should you be thinking of heading this way for maybe a spot of cycling or suchlike then a few extra layers of lycra rather than swimming togs would be the order of the day, Mike.
Take care.
David