From the Downs to the Wolds

What the heck are downs and wolds anyway? A wold, according to the Oxford Dictionary, is a piece of high, uncultivated land or moor. A down, according to the same source, is gently rolling hill country. The Lincolnshire Wolds would once have been 'uncultivated' but not any longer. In fact I'm struggling to detect the difference between a down and a wold. Both seem to me to be stunningly beautiful vistas across rolling farmland. However, Sussex most definitely has more trees.

Now fens are much more easily detected. They are defined as the flat low-lying areas of eastern England, mainly in Lincolnshire, Cambridgeshire and Norfolk, formerly marshland but largely drained for agriculture since the 17^th century. You can spot a fen a mile off, literally. Flat as the proverbial pancake and covered with crops of corn, wheat, barley, onions, potatoes etc. depending on the season. The other distinctive feature of the fens is the deep dykes that drain the land and allow it to be used for agriculture.

Lincolnshire has wolds and fens and sandy beaches, and nowhere near as many people as West Sussex. Or maybe they are all at Skegness at the moment. I drove there to see if it was a s bad as predicted. It was. Think of a giant version of the Melbourne Show minus the animals and you have Skegness. One over-sized side-show and fish & chippery.

But even Skegness has something to recommend it. Two things in fact. One was the wonderful sight of the three wind farms off the coast, by name Lynn, Inner Dowsing and Lincs. I counted 127 turbines. They are a part of Britain's commitment to provide energy from renewable sources. It was a sight worth doing battle with the holiday crowds to see. 

The other thing that made the trip worthwhile was to see the Skegness beach donkeys. These cute little fellas and their forebears have be delighting holidaymakers for sixty years. That's quite an achievement in an ever-changing world.

Lincolnshire also has a rich aviation history and was home to 49 airfields during WWII. Two important groups of Bomber Command were stationed here and the famous Dambusters flew from RAF Scampton near Lincoln. There is great excitement amongst aeroplane enthusiasts this week because RAF Coningsby will be host to the visiting Lancaster Bomber due to arrive on 8^th August from the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum. It is one of only two airworthy Arvo Lancasters left in the world, the other of which is here at RAF Coningsby, home of the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight. More than 100 Bomber Command Veterans will be on hand for the arrival of this very special plane. Aeronautical events: flypasts, starring at the Eastbourne Air Show and the like are planned for the coming weeks. I may just be lucky enough for see her fly overhead when she arrives tomorrow as I'm not far from Coningsby.

Lincolnshire, what an underrated destination. If you like to walk and cycle and enjoy the great outdoors then lovely Lincolnshire has a treat in store for you.

Where to, and why?

Stick a pin in the map of Great Britain and you'll probably hit an interesting spot. So how to decide which of these places to visit? There's an assumption amongst some of my buddies that I'll be filling my days looking at gardens. My question to them is: does a school teacher want to visit schools when she's on holiday? Does an engineer want to peer at the support structure of every bridge he sees? Does an architect want to spend her free time looking at buildings? No, all these people pick out the best of the best: the school that is innovative and high-achieving, the ancient bridge that stands true and solid, the building that makes the heart sing just to look at it. And so it is for me with gardens, I only want to see the best.

So if not gardens, then what? When it comes right down to it I guess I'd have to say it's books. I don't mean that I'm flying all the way to England to spend my time in bookshops, pleasant as that may be. What I mean is the places I know from books. Not just grown-up's books but children's books. Having to grow up is one of life's great tragedies but fortunately you can keep the essence of childhood in your heart if you try hard enough. How lovely it would be to be ten years old forever.

But, London is not for children. Children belong in the countryside and the seaside; so, for the first nine days, I'll have to pretend to be a grown-up. Stay tuned to find out what the grown-up me is up to in London between the 11^th and the 19^th of July.

There follows a week in the city of Matthew Arnold's 'dreaming spires', Hardy's 'Christminster' and Colin Dexter's 'Morse': the inspiring city of Oxford. It's also the city of 'Alice' who sat by the river one lazy summer's afternoon and spied a white rabbit.

While in Oxford, I'll be participating in a week-long summer school at Christ Church, the last word in Oxford colleges. Myself and five other not-quite-grownups will spend the week seeking the real 'Alice', daughter of the Dean of Christ Church, and Lewis Carroll—who imagined 'Alice in Wonderland' and put it all in a book.

Next stop, West Sussex where I'll be looking for the Devil's Punchbowl, setting for Monica Edwards' engaging children's books about the family of Punchbowl Farm. While I'm down south I can slip over to Kent to re-visit the wonderful garden at Sissinghurst Castle, and venture into Surrey to find 'Merry Hall', one-time home of author and man-about-town, Beverley Nichols, who's whimsical books about his gardens make one want to rush out and plant a tree.

And then north to Lincolnshire. Why Lincolnshire? Because I haven't been there. During the week I plan to visit the fabulous Lincoln Cathedral, and do some cycling in the fen country.

Heading west from Lincolnshire I'll arrive in Macclesfield, Cheshire, for the 2 ½ week house sit. Annie the dog, Fennel the cat and three chooks (un-named?) will be putting their health and wellbeing in my hands. Best of luck guys. Macclesfield is just a stones-throw from the delights of the Peak District National Park and from the Duke of Devonshire's impressive pile: Chatsworth House.

With just five days left I'll spend four of them in Reedham and surrounds on the River Yare, where Arthur Ransome's young sailors had a close shave at the railway bridge in 'Coot Club'.

And so eight weeks will have flown by and a train from Cambridge will whisk me back to London for a last day in the capital. Then it's goodbye Piccadilly, farewell Leicester Square …