Lincoln
Lincolnshire- all we knew was Robin Hood cavorted here with Marion in a forest, avoiding the bad sheriff. Our route from Yorkshire followed the Ouse, Aire and Don, before depositing us on the R Trent, to navigate upstream and SW. Some 30 miles south of where we joined the incoming tide, we turned east, following the Fossdyke Navigation some 11 miles to Lincoln. A charming old city, home to Celts, Romans, Normans, and now us for a week. Hopefully we won't be as much trouble as some of them were. The cathedral and castle perch naturally high above the river, mediaeval cobbled lanes wreathing the hill, tumbling down to the Brayford Pool, a large inland harbour. For centuries boats sailed from here to the Wash and beyond, trade including wool, flax, linen, limestone. Now a fine haven for recreational boaters, swans, canada geese, tourists. The swans and geese take parenting seriously, hissing and menacing any folk straying too closely to their families. Mooring in the Pool we are...