And on we go, into the long dark teatime of the soul, or “A Day In Lincolnshire” to give it the correct title.

The great Lincolnshire GBG19 tick begins in Sleaford, or all places.

Clearly you all know where Sleaford is, you’re educated people.  Unlike the audience at my gig in Cambridge last night who didn’t even know where Guildford was.

All your Lincs favourites

The highlight of any trip to the home of the Mods is, of course, the famous “Seven men in orange suits standing around doing nothing” art piece.


Eagle-eyed readers will notice that the blue skies have gone, at least temporarily, which is my excuse for some dull pictures.  The view from the top of the National Centre for Craft and Design is revelatory, in Sleaford terms.

Bustling High St
National Centre for Craft & Design- note windmill in background
More waterways than Birmingham
Red brick loveliness

My notes, made on the move while bumping into the retired gentlefolk crowding the lanes en-route to staring in tearooms and antique shops, merely say;

“A 1-1  draw with Driffield”

A few yards from the High Street, the White Horse finally joins the pantheon of Sleaford Guide entries.  For the second post in a row, more Mann’s livery tells you a lot.

A great pub sign

And you know exactly what to expect as you walk up the drive.

What a wonderful sight

Inside a classic plain Fenland pub, three Old Boys say “‘ello“.  I say “Hello” too, and get asked about the weather.  I want to ask about the modifications to their mobility scooter, but check myself.

Pub Man

It’s only 11.15am, so I go for a half of the Horncastle (average) rather than the keg Sam Smiths.

Proper beer

Malcolm and Bill should be ‘ere by now


“‘ere they are



You know how it goes.

Mostly coffees (instant), with two sugars.

By 11.30 it was quite bustling, a toddler with a pushalong the centre of attention.

I’d hoped to buy the most recent Sleaford Mods CD in Sleaford, but I sensed they probably weren’t fans and wouldn’t be able to advise me.  In fact the only record shop in town is the Red Cross shop.

Even though I don’t need to, I visit the Gents.


As I leave, the Landlady breaks off from coffee orders to shout “Thank you“, and means it.

A Proper Pub.

It’s doing fine


  1. I didn’t expect a report on Sleaford without mention of the Bass Maltings, that large group of eight malt houses originally built by the Bass Brewery in Edwardian times and now sadly disused but still very noticeable from the train.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s