But my licking of Lincs concludes in the Fens near Greater Boston, a fine place to finish. Last year Wyberton Fen, this year Pinchbeck. Us tickers know more about South Holland than the Dutch.
You’ll need your magnifying glass to spot Pinchbeck on the map;
The floral capital of the UK (actually it’s Waterbeach), I visited Birchgrove Garden Centre to take Mum some dahlias.
No flowers, just bulbs, so I had to go to Tesco’s, but I did see the ancient cattle market,
and the famed brussel sprout display.
Pinchbeck won’t detain the tourist longer than the 30 minutes it detained me, especially after they read this.
Enjoy the huge mound of pungent potatoes,
the tranquil river,
and these mysterious containers just off Rotten Row.
I suspect they contain markers for GBG tickers visiting the Ship, as I did on the dot of noon.
An impressive looking thatched pub, some smart cars parked up, and some young folk at the door.
But they dithered, and at 11:59 I was standing at the bar.
Just as well I was quick, several of the seats by the fire were already reserved as I saw the first green shoots of a Great Pub Revival. I am the eternal optimist.
It’s a bit twee, but the barman came from Skelmersdale and we had a good chat about the gentrification of Skem while he multi-tasked. Nice lad.
Fans of ancient beamed pubs will love it, fans of Tina Turner epics will love it, but the Black Sheep wasn’t Simply the Best, it was Simply OK. Just as you’d expect to be honest.
The Gents redeemed it, mind.
In case you wondered, that’s actually BRAPA looking jealously at my completed Lincolnshire section of the Guide at the Annual GBG Tickers Awards in Rock, Cornwall.