To Kings Lynn

Firstly, I begin by wishing everyone a very happy Christmas.  I also say thank you to all those who have added comments, or sent messages or emails.  I do appreciate them, though at times my response has been tardy, and shamefully, sometimes non-existent, because of all the work I have to do at the end of the day.  

Yes, all I am doing is only walking each day, but when I get to my destination I often have a lot of administration to do, which has, at times taken all my spare time and energy.  What administration you ask?  Well, there are things like finding somewhere to eat, planning and booking the next day's journey and accommodation, doing the blog (which is not a 5 minute job), and  doing tasks like washing, to name a few.  So thank you for your understanding  on my sometimes lax communication. 

Now to the last few days.  Sometimes it takes a while for the penny to drop, and for me to join all the dots.

Leaving Leagate the way continued through the flat Fenlands,and are they flat!  The area was a leek growing area.  Harvesting was in progress, with trailers on the back of tractors loaded to the hilt with boxes of leeks.  One farm I passed was mechanically harvesting.

Loading leeks

On this road the RAF were busy passing noisily overhead for many hours.  The manoeuvres they seemed to be practising, apart from going around circles, were take offs and landings.  Along with the giant man made birds, several squadrons of wild geese passed by too.

Though there was a turnoff to New York, and I was headed to Boston, it did not register with me that there might be some connection with the US.  In a discussion with a chap in a pub at lunch time I learnt that it was from Boston that one group of Pilgrim Father's left, or rather escaped, what they saw as a difficult life of religious persecution.  This first attempt, from Boston, was unsuccessful because the captain of the ship they were on betrayed them to the authorities.   After being imprisoned for a short time they returned to their homes near Gainsborough making a second successful attempt some years later.  They modelled their first school, the Latin Free School, on Boston Grammar School (UK), and named the city they built after the one they had fled from.

Scenes from Boston 

A street in Boston

Boston was once a very busy market town, and a thriving port, but it is now rather tired.

From the door of St Botoloph's 

It has a massive parish church, known as The Stump, but officially has the name of St Botoloph's.  St Botolph's was used as a landmark for sailors coming up River and for people out on the fens as its tower towers - 81 metres.  From this church the Reverend John Cotton would preach radical sermons to the puritans.  People would come from miles to hear him and his sermons sometimes went on for up to five hours!

St Botolph's, Boston

Inside St Botolph's 

We had to make our way to Holbeach the next day.  Because the distance was so great Sharn had decided to bus it as she had a sore hip.  I set off in very strong winds and reflecting on how the day might pan out, decided to retrace my steps and bus it with her.

From Holbeach it was a short day to Sutton Bridge, me walking, Sharn on the bus.  I arrived so early, that we spent a good portion of the afternoon sitting in the pub yarning. 

Walking along the fens I had my shadow for company. 

On the way to Sutton Bridge we passed an amazing parish church at Gebney, which was open (another sing)

The journey into Kings Lynn was to be a repeat of the previous day.  It began well enough, until disaster struck 8 kms before the town.  Again, the path was flat, and I followed an old railway line for quite a few kilometres,  complete with WW2 defence installations on the way.  I passed the turn off to Walpole, and again things have been slow to compute!  Though the family moved away from the area, it was the name adopted by ancestors of Sir Robert Walpole, the first Prime Minister of England (1721 - 1742).

A modern stained glass window in the church at Sutton Bridge 

The bridge at Sutton Bridge 

Crossing the bridge

Defences overlooking the fens

Having passed through several small villages, on the outskirts of another, and walking at a brisk pace, I heard a tiny "ping" and suddenly my pack was only attached to me by the waist belt!  Supporting it as best as I could with my hands I headed into the next village and stopped at the first bus stop.  Buses are frequent on this stretch and so I only waited about 25 mins before catching a bus into Kings Lynn. 

Kings Lynn 

St Margaret's, Kings Lynn Minster

Kings Lynn 

We have had a "working rest day" in Kings Lynn.  Sharn leaves in the morning, and so she had things to purchase, I had things to post to further on the way, and we both had laundry to do.  Added to that I had to repair my pack, which I think has been successfully accomplished.  In between we explored the Minster, the harbour, the shops and even fitted in a museum!  I will miss Sharns company.  It's been great having her for the last three weeks.  Tomorrow I head towards Norwich for Christmas,  and she heads home to Sydney.