Tr avel report LINCOLN
charm, a history peppered with earthquake and bloodshed, and a wonderfully compact historic quarter with cluttered curio and chocolate shops, Roman remains and cafés.
Our first stop was the cathedral, reputed to be the world’s tallest building at 525 feet back in the day (between 1311 and 1548, that is, when a storm blew down the spire).
We arrived just in time for a breathtaking tour of the roof which had my knees knocking with the height as we were shown the views across Lincolnshire’s flatlands.
Our guide, Prue, took us back to 1066 and all that before telling us that Cromwell’s soldiers chopped off the heads of some statues of saints in their anger.
The saints were later fixed but some of the female ones ended up with men’s heads.
The fascinating rooftop tour is well worth the extra £4 charge.
Afterwards, we drove the two miles to Washingborough Hall, a grand-looking hotel which has one of those gravel drives that ought to be reserved just for old Jags and Daimlers.
The hotel has cosy bar areas, a wood-burner and a shelf full of good books you can help yourself to. If you fancy boules or croquet, there’s a big front lawn.
Bizarrely, the hotel used to be a nightclub called Scandals, but is now very much a family-run hostelry where attention to detail is obviously important.
In the lobby my eye was drawn to the old map of Lincolnshire which was dotted with oddly spelled place names.
Attention to detail was also evident in the choice of breakfast sausages which I later discovered were called Mountain and from Boston Sausages.
We tucked into the homemade biscuits in our room, named The Ingleby, which boasted a very grand cast-iron roll-top bath.
It made a pleasant change from a quick shower with the kids braying at the bathroom door.
The hotel restaurant is a destination in itself. We enjoyed a three-course evening meal, opting for partridge and fillet of beef for our mains, and raspberry and pistachio Bakewell tart for dessert. It was so good that Ellie and I swapped plates with the words “Try this!”.
The following day, Saturday, was for exploring the old part of the city centre on foot. It was a child-free (and whinge-free) stroll up historic Steep Hill (yes, it’s apt) with nothing to worry about apart from choosing a coffee shop.
The names of the shops and streets conjured up images of life in times gone by: Jews’ court; Christ’s Hospital Terrace; Norman House, Flaxengate.
It was worth the walk just for the aromas of chocolate, fudge, soap, coffee and so on.
A plaque informed us that local parish priest Chad Varah had founded the Samaritans here.
After passing the Wig & Mitre coffee shop, we reached the farmers’ market which had everything from beer to venison burgers. There were free samples of cheese before we actually bought some.
Our walk also took us to the