Lincoln – Newark – London
Some days a journey will broaden your mind, or take you to new and interesting places perhaps meeting new people or cultures. Exploration for enjoyment and personal development is one of the things that separates us humans from the animals.
Some days all you learn is that people can be inconsiderate dicks.
The first step of today’s 160mile journey is to get to the station. Lincoln is not a great place for wheelchairs, it being full of hills (well, only one hill actually, but it is quite a corker) and cobbles, lots of cobbles. Lincoln also has lousy rail connections. The trains are infrequent, full, old and very rattly. The convenient, if pricey, move is to get a cab directly to Newark.
Cab booked and confirmed I carried on being social while I waited. And waited. And waited. Getting a little concerned I called the cab company to discover the driver was lost, the SatNav having failed to find my address. With a little persuasion I was put in touch with the driver and I explained where she needed to be. At this point I was optimistic of success, wrongly as it turned out.
Five minutes later the phone rang. The news wasn’t good. Some idiot had parked their car across both the pavement and road blocking pedestrians and ensuring that the Transit Van taxi couldn’t get past to get even close to where I was. A diversion down an alternative route would take too long to then catch my connection.
Sometimes you just need to accept the battle is lost and return tomorrow to fight the war, even if it does cost another night in a hotel.
Update: After a sustained local campaign aimed at Police, the Council and miscreant drivers, the road mentioned in this blog is to be painted with double yellow lines.