Mission accomplished. Last week I had the idea of driving over to Louth, staying over night and getting two long country walks in. The plan came to fruition. Yesterday I walked for three and a half hours and today, after a stroll round the charming market town of Louth, I undertook a second major walk that took four and a half hours.to complete. By the end, I was what my mother would have called - "jiggered".
At the top is the former pub where I stayed - "The Travellers" and below is the "Helal Tandoori" where I ate my curry meal last night - washed down with two pints of "Kingfisher" beer.
Being in Louth may seem a little like stepping back in time. Apart from the men who work in "Helal" and the Thai restaurant round the corner, it is a very white Anglo Saxon town - reminding me of how most of England used to be when I was a boy. The town centre is dominated by the magnificent spire of St James's Church - testament to the great wealth from wool that Louth enjoyed in the middle ages. I went inside to have a quick look round and bought Shirley a souvenir tea towel. Because I had another big walk on the wolds to do, I did not have time to scale the tower.
Below, a Ludensian (someone from Louth) checks out the offers in the window of "Louth Travel Centre". I wonder where he wants to go - perhaps to Red Deer in Alberta, Canada or maybe to Ludwigsburg in southwestern Germany. Who knows?
With my short and rather hurried tour of Louth finished, I set off west on the A157 road to the village of Burgh-on-Bain. There I parked Clint near the church and got ready for a twelve mile hike. What a diamond day it was! The meteorologists had got it perfectly right. I reached the small agricultural village of Gayton-le-Wold and entered St Peter's Church. A small and very simple building. There I spotted this broken pane of coloured glass above the altar:-
By the time I reached Doningtom-on-Bain, I was eager for some sustenance. The village pub was closed but there was a well-stocked village shop run by a lady called Jenny Ward who has run that establishment for fifty years and has recently written a book about being a village shopkeeper for half a century. I wonder what will happen when she finally hangs up her apron. Most probably there will be nobody to replace her. Tragically, so many village shops have already gone.
In Donington's quaint twelfth century parish church dedicated to St Andrew, I noticed this slit window with a remembrance cross made from ceramic poppies...
P.S. It seems that last night's post did not in fact publish when I pressed the button. Perhaps the wifi had gone down in "The Travellers" so better late than never - there's last night's post below. Two for the price of one.
from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/DaspcPz
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