Perimeter

Quintin Lake’s photo walk around the United Kingdom continues. This month: Cleethorpes to Boston

Far beyond Cleethorpes in the flat marshes, I’m drawn to a ramshackle driftwood shelter by the strandline, above which a ragged St George’s flag flutters urgently. Inside is Chris, kneeling to build a campfire. He comes down from Nottingham whenever he can, and made the shelter over many months. The locals were welcoming; now they use the place to sit out of the wind and to nail up their pet memorials. “I wasn’t interested in nature and that until I started coming out here,” he says.

Today is my 400th day walking. I’ve crossed the invisible line from

The North into The South, although I can’t imagine Lincolnshire folk identifying as Southerners. Still, in terms of my journey, it feels like gravity has shifted south now.

The landscape by The Wash is uberflat, all drainage ditches and sky, There’s a powerful abstraction to the scene that encourages a graphic approach to photography. In the distance, I see a hiker with a backpack from miles off – not a common sight away from dog walking areas. It turns out he’s another around-the-coast-ofBritain-walker heading in the opposite direction to me. We share notes on the way we’ve each come. Clive is a musician, and he’s composing a piece of music based on each county through which he has walked.

I am shattered tonight from two days walking through storm force winds in this open landscape. I feel like most of my energy has gone into pushing against the direction the wind wanted me to go. I thought I’d struggle to find some shelter to protect the tent from Storm Jorge; but nestling up to a stand of hawthorn in the dunes has miraculously reduced the gale I can hear above me to a gentle breeze. From the tent, I see clouds scudding past the crescent moon at speed.

The beach towards Skegness is a mirrored edge of fluffy clouds. I love this kind of expansive sky theatre. If it wasn’t for the seawall that I’ve been following for over 20 miles today, it would be tough to define where the land ends and the sea begins, here on the Southern edge of The Wash.

I fly the drone to capture this liminal landscape from above, as it’s very hard to get a sense of blending of land and sea from ground level.

Coronavirus dominates the news. Italy and Denmark are on lockdown, while the Cheltenham Festival takes place in the UK. It’s therapeutic to put one foot in front of the other in this time of uncertainty. I cover 27km and find a sheltered spot by a reedbed tonight, silently unfolding the tent under piercing bright stars.