Viking Way: Some comments

When I enquired of people who had walked the Yorkshire Wolds Way what they thought of it they were enthusiastic, but on asking the same question of veterans of the Viking Way they were more equivocal. Good bits they said, such as in the Wolds, and less interesting bits. This about sums up the route. 

For me the low point was definitely the unnecessarily extended excursion through the modern housing developments of North and East Lincoln. The deeply rutted, muddy and waterlogged byways on the southern part of the route were also a pain. Highlights included the historic centre of Lincoln and the many small towns and villages visited such as Woodhall Spa. Hospitable old pubs were an essential part of the villages' charm together with the churches. The Humber Bridge itself was an iconic place to begin the 147 mile, 237 kilometre journey, and I enjoyed the stretch beside the wide river estuary. Rutland Water was a similarly dramatic place to end the trail. As many people commented, the Lincolnshire Wolds were attractive and I liked the views from the Lincoln Edge.

Most of the people who I encountered that had completed or were walking this long distance path did so as they lived in the area. As it was nearby they could conveniently tackle it in stages. It was also commented to me that there are a lot of straight sections, at the end of which the route may turn at right angles. The Viking Way is almost entirely within the county of Lincolnshire and as the name implies is in an area invaded and occupied by Scandinavians over a thousand years ago as attested to by many Danish place names. I completed the long distance path in 11 days. Waymarking was good but not comprehensive throughout, so a GPS with the route and a digital map loaded is needed, or a paper map if you are "old school". Accommodation is scattered throughout the route, often associated with village pubs, and there are a few campsites. It is not wild camping country being mostly farmland. 

Sign at Viking Way Café by the Humber Bridge at start of Viking Way, note the yellow waymark used throughout the trail.

Update: In March 2025 I spoke to a person from Visit Lincolnshire, who said that the route around the north of Lincoln was to bring walkers in by the beautiful Lincoln Cathedral and the historic part of the city. To achieve this and avoid an industrial area the Viking Way was diverted well to the north. On the deeply rutted byways at the southern end of the route, bylaws and other measures have and are being taken to minimise the use of the track by four-wheel drives. This can only improve the experience of those walking the route.

Greetham to Stamford: E2 Day 86

Today I left the Viking Way at Rutland Water and began on the Hereward Way.

A street in Exton, the verge awash with flowers.

After breakfast at the Rutland Campsite café it was a walk over fields and through villages to Rutland Water. This was a large reservoir, unusual in that it was not in a deep valley surrounded by hills but in a gently undulating landscape. The reservoir cannot be deep. Still I suppose there were few other options to supply water to the low lying lands to the east. Efforts had been made to provide recreational opportunities around the reservoir, maybe to make amends for putting a large portion of the small county of Rutland under water. There were boat trips, canoe and bike hire, wind surfing and a café I took advantage of. A member of the Wildlife Trust at a small stand encouraged me to join. Although a worthy organisation doing great work to foster wildlife, I declined as there is a limit on how many charities I feel able to support, but a sense of guilt followed me as walked along a good path around the water. I had now joined the Hereward Way heading east, having left the Viking Way before its final destination at nearby Oakham.

Rutland Water 

As well as fields of young crops, and ploughed fields waiting for seed, there were fields of grass, some with sheep, others carpet covered with dandelions and daisies. In the attractive villages the old houses were made of a creamy limestone with either thatched roofs or tiled with stone flags. Just off the trail in Ketton there was a monument to Queen Victoria's Golden Jubilee, on the side details of Queen Elizabeth II's Diamond Jubilee was inscribed. 

Dandelions and daisies. 

Easton on the hill.

I passed a quarry still digging out the limestone used in the villages but probably now for cement rather than masonry. The path crossed the quarry so I could look down at the operations. A future nature reserve I thought when the quarrying finally finished. Stamford, where I am staying tonight, has a centre of church spires and towers, pubs, shops and houses, all made of the same cream coloured limestone. Having checked into an attractively decorated Airbnb, I am having a meal in one of the older buildings with the curious name of Tobie Norris. Recommended by Airbnb owner the pub dates from the 13th century and its little wood panelled rooms were filled with people and the hubbub of conversation.

Croxton Kerrial to Greetham: E2 Day 85

Although there were some pleasant sections, today's walk was spoilt by deeply rutted, muddy and wet tracks.

Leaving Croxton Kerrial along a busy road I soon reached the Viking Way at the "Drift". This section of the ancient pathway was a Site of Special Scientific Interest (an SSSI) due to the flowers, plants and insects of this lowland calcareous grassland. Cowslips and blackthorn in blossom were the most noticable plants. Approaching Saltby Airfield a man with a lively Springer said I had just passed some bunkers from the Second World War in the strip of woodland beside the trail. The conflict was also responsible for the airfield. Gliders from here had been involved in the D-Day landings and the less successful Operation Market Garden. There was a small stone memorial with three flagpoles and a few poppy wreaths remembering past comrades. Gliders again fly from the airfield, but for recreation not war. Later I passed yet another airfield, RAF Cottesmore, this one disused, one of the many built in Lincolnshire for World War II.

The Drift.

For much of the remainder of the day I was following byways used by 4 x 4's. These off-road vehicles had created deep, muddy ruts, often filled with water. Sometimes the water extended over the complete width of the track and with thorny bushes each side which made getting around the water a hazardous balancing act. Sometimes I was forced to splash through the brown water where I thought it would be shallowest, risking wet boots. Other times I risked slipping into a water filled rut as I made my way through slick, slippery, slimy mud on the ridges between ruts. People should be allowed to play with their off-road vehicles and as I was on an ancient byway they were probably legally entitled to use it, but it is unfortunate that a separate walking route was not created. It was not fun!

Track wrecked by 4 x 4 vehicles.

In between water filled, muddy sections, which required my full attention, I had the chance to look around and spotted a few red kites flying overhead (or possibly the same one following me). A hare hopped around the track ahead of me, sniffing, before disappearing into the seemingly impenetrable bushes beside the track.

One of the more pleasant parts of the walk.

A few villages were on my route. At Sewstern I was annoyed that the Viking Way took me down a road parallel to the village which had no particular merit, rather than down the main street. The latter would likely have had more interest with maybe attractive old houses or a shop, I shall now never know (although I did check with Google to make sure I did not miss a café). At the second village of Thistleton, I stopped at the church for lunch, eating the samosas I bought yesterday on a picnic table in the churchyard. Although no longer used for regular services it served as a venue for music and other events. 

I saw a sign for Rutland, which surprised me as I thought the county had been dissolved as part of some reorganisation. However it appears to have re-emerged as one of the smallest counties in Great Britain. Reaching Greetham I struggled to find the campsite. A local couple told me that the entrance was not from the village, as it might appear from maps, but from a more distant road. However there was a pedestrian side gate, which, when I found the correct one, could be opened remotely by the lady in reception in response to my phone call. It turned out to be a lovely campsite with neatly cut, flat grass, clean toilets and a convenient café on the site for diner and breakfast. 

Marston to Croxton Kerrial: E2 Day 84

Blessed with another sunny day, I walked across the Lincolnshire farmland. 

I began today's walk by heading in a westward direction crossing fields. The Viking Way started in this direction yesterday afternoon in order to avoid Grantham. Reaching the village of Long Bennington after crossing back and fore over the River Witham, I decided to divert into its centre to visit a cafe promised by Google Maps. I would not encounter any other village today so this was my only chance. Their raspberry and white chocolate cake was exceedingly good, a Victoria Sponge type cake with a filling containing chips of white chocolate.

Crossing the River Witham.

After Long Bennington my route was due south. My enjoyment of the walk through the countryside was marred by the effects of off-road vehicles. Sections of the track, were deeply rutted by the 4 x 4s. Avoiding areas of mud and pools of water, extending from hedge to hedge in places, proved difficult. A shame as the route (Sewstern Lane) apparently dated back to Bronze Age times, and was used as a Drove road to bring cattle south to market, in more recent centuries.

Rutted track made by offroaders.

A more pleasant part of my day's travel was beside the Grantham Canal. There were restored locks but also floating booms so I was unsure whether it was currently navigable. In the morning the trail was over flat arable farmland with one slight rise, but after the canal the route rose over a limestone ridge. I caught glimpses of Belvoir Castle from the canal, standing on top of the escarpment. 

Gentle rise away from flat farmland.

Climbing up the escarpment. 

There being no accommodation on the Viking Way in these parts, I diverted off the track to the village of Croxton Kerrial where I had booked a room in the local pub. At the village store I discussed the best snacks for my walk tomorrow with the man serving. He recommended the samosas and the tiffin, which is exactly what I bought. In the pub that evening there were three men in motorcycle leathers having long and detailed discussions about obscure bike topics. The pub had a "Community Dinner" on Tuesday nights tonight with a very nice pork escallops, dauphinoise potatoes and vegetables. Only problem was that you had to decide how much to pay....

Wellingore to Marston: E2 Day 83

My highlight was the sun coming out this afternoon and lighting up the bright yellow cowslips in a churchyard.

Older buildings in the villages today and yesterday were either made of red bricks or else a creamy to sandy orange limestone, sometimes both, all with a red tiled roof. The limestone also appeared in walls where I could look more closely at the white, yellow and black lichen that was slowly colonizing its surface. Where these walls separated fields they had been left to tumble down, no longer necessary as the fields were all of young crops or ploughed ready for crops. The hawthorn hedges were also no longer functional, with gaps between the individual bushes.

My first stretch was over large open fields in the misty morning light, the path cutting a straight if diagonal line. I noticed what looked like Second World War pill pillboxes, but a little research suggested they were old concrete bunkers around what was once RAF Wellingore. There were many airfields in the area during the war.

Ermine Street was a section of today's walk, I had been looking forward to hiking this old Roman road, an elegant straight line crossing the map, also called "High Dike". I was disappointed. The first few kilometres followed by the Viking Way were also used by recreational off road vehicles. The 4 x 4s had dug deep and muddy ruts in the ground. A later section was by a moderately busy road, and although the path was quite separate from the road it had been neglected. In one section trees had been planted some years ago, protected by plastic sheathing. Sadly the plastic had not been removed and the bark of the trees had partly grown over it. Throughout there was rubbish and random fly tipping, and although I had seen worse in other places it made it difficult to image a cohort of soldiers marching where I was now walking almost 2000 years earlier. 

Tracks of off-roaders on Ermine Street.

On the plus side the sporadic cherry trees alongside the track were in beautiful blossom and there was a café (and therefore coffee and cake) where Ermine Street crossed a more modern road. The place was called Byards Leap after a horse who was involved in ridding the village of a witch. Stories vary but all involve the horse making a huge leap now marked by horse shoes cemented in the ground.

Leaving Ermine Street, as I crossed more fields the mist and clouds dispersed and the sun began to shine. While I have walked in rain and wind, and on dull and cloudy days, my pleasure is greater when the sun spreads her light. The grass glows greener and the wayside flowers look brighter. There were white and purple dead nettle and bright yellow dandelions although I found the best flowers in the churchyard of the curiously named village of Carlton Scroop. Cowslips surrounded the gravestones and there was an excellent display of primulas of many colours. The church was open. Its interior was simple with white painted walls. In the visitors book there were a smattering of people who wrote they were walking the Viking Way and even one (a person from Verona, Italy) who was, like me, following the British section of the E2 European Long Distance Path.

Path beside ploughed field.

Cowslips in the graveyard of the Church of St. Nicholas in Carlton Scroop.

Path in the sun.

On the final section of today's walk I again walked beside the River Witham, smaller here than when I followed it east of Lincoln. A little after I past a sewerage works, or rather a "Water Recycling Centre". This one involved sending the waste water through a series of reed lined ponds to clean it up. A few geese were sampling the progress. In the distance trains glided up and down the electrified main east coast line. 

Tonight I am staying at "Ye Olde Barn", despite the cheesy name it has a very modern, red brick appearance. My ensuite bathroom off my large bedroom even has "his and hers" washbasins, no doubt to justify the very expensive cost. So I have been investigating campsites and cheaper, if simpler, accommodation for the next few days.

Lincoln to Wellingore: E2 Day 82

A short day walking along the Lincoln Edge.

Leaving Lincoln down a road lined with shops including I thought, an unusually large number of tattoo parlours and hairdressers. However, I was soon walking across green areas, albeit close to housing. Then it was a climb up to the top of the Lincoln Edge also known as the Lincoln Cliff, although I saw no exposed rock to justify it being called a cliff. Rather it was an escarpment, associated with the underlying Jurassic limestone. To the west the ground dropped steeply to a wide plain of clay. During the ice age this was maybe a great lake. A plateau extended to the east.

Looking down the escarpment of the Lincoln Edge with the southward spread of Lincoln visible, more housing is planned.

Looking down the escarpment of the Lincoln Edge further south.

From the top of the Edge, the Viking Way provided good views across the plain below me. As well as fields, some yellow with rapeseed, there was the much housing, some quite recent, as Lincoln continued to grow. Many dog walkers used the track. They were concerned about a bypass being built across the very field on which we were walking, little flags marking out the route. They thought it would cause congestion in the nearby villages. Mercifully, today the Viking Way avoided any new housing developments but my informants said many more houses were planned, often on the flood plain with a high risk of flooding. Inevitably, immigrants with large families were said to be the reason why all the new houses were needed.

I continued by a succession of villages with their pubs and old churches, in between my path went in straight lines between fields, either ploughed or with young, green crops. Navenby was one of the larger villages and included a busy café where I enjoyed a coffee and cake from the multiple, flustered staff. My inn for the night, the Red Lion, was in the next village. A friendly pub which had a pizza stall in its garden whose produce I much appreciated.

Straight path of Viking Way with Sunday dog walkers in the distance.

Lincoln Rest Day: E2 Day 81

My first rest day of this trip in the historic town of Lincoln.

In the morning I visited the cathedral for which Lincoln was famous. Dating from the 11th century it was for hundreds of years the tallest building in the world. However the stained glass windows with their deep blue colours impressed me more when I first visited the cathedral on a school trip as a child. Maybe the sun was shining through them then. The windows looked better in the evening light when I returned for the choral evensong. More choir members than congregation the service was held in the choir stalls. I suspect most of the attendees were visitors like myself as they did not seem to know when to leave as the organ music continued after the benediction, the final prayer.

The cathedral stood on a hill, a sharp contrast to the flat lands I was walking over yesterday. To reach it from my hotel by the railway, I climbed up a steep, cobbled stone road, passing many historic buildings. On returning I was worried I would slip on the wet cobbles. I looked around the city centre at the base of the hill, busy with weekend shoppers. Once a busy inland port, the area around Brayford Pool, where barges once unloaded, has been redeveloped with cafes and restaurants. 

As with any rest day there were a few chores: items to buy, hair to be cut, clothes to rinse. However I also spent time actually resting on my bed. The last two days had been long, and although I was pleased that my left knee had managed it well there was a small amount of fluid build up and it would not bend to its full extent. During the day I wore a compression sleeve to encourage the fluid to go away. Saturday night in town looked as if it could be rowdy with bouncers at the busy pub doors even in the early evening. Groups of men and women, the latter showing more skin than the temperature justified, were getting noisy, so I decided on some fast food (in a place that could have been cleaner) and an early night with the TV.

Lincoln Cathedral rising up behind a Saturday market.

Woodhall Spa to Lincoln: E2 Day 80

A lovely morning by the River Witham and a wet afternoon with an unexpected detour through the housing estates of Lincoln's suburbs.

I left the charming town of Woodhall Spa while the tea shops were still closed. Customers were already queueing at the butchers. Initially the route headed north across flat fens drained by straight channels until it reached the River Witham. In former times a railway ran beside the river. I joined the river at the former station of Stixwould. There a man on a tricycle with a collie dog stopped and told me of his recent wild camping trips. I enjoyed following the river on the old rail bed. There were informative signs, a sculpture and a pumping station. The latter was necessary to drain the land as much of the area was below sea level and the level of the river.

Walk on bed of old railway beside the River Witham, note sculpture on right.

Unfortunately the route of the Viking Way kept taking deviations to the north, as if blown away from the river by some southerly wind. Leaving the river I was intrigued by the wooden church of St John the Divine. Built as a temporary building at the end of the 19th century it was still a place of worship. Another church, this one of brick, seemed isolated with only a grand house nearby. However its clock was accurate and its noticeboard was offering "A Right Royal Knees Up" for the coronation of King Charles. A little later I was struggling through mud in a wooded section. There were a number of Abbeys around the River Witham in medieval times. My path led me passed the meagre ruins of Barlings Abbey. As on other days there were tracks through open fields, on quiet roads and between hedges in blossom before I reached the village of Fiskerton.

Views of the diverse paths.

Originally I had planned to catch a bus from Fiskerton to Lincoln, but as a sign on the road indicated that Lincoln was only 3 1/2 miles away, it seemed a pity not to continue walking. Both my map and GPS track indicated that the Viking Way followed the River Witham into Lincoln, a fairly direct route. However I noticed the Viking Way signs were pointing a different direction. It seemed wise to follow the signs as they might be the result of a problem on the river route that made it impassable. At first the route indicated by the signs seemed sensible enough, heading towards the towers of Lincoln cathedral which periodically came into view. Then, whoever was behind this new route decided to take hikers on a tour of the modern eastern and northern suburbs of outer Lincoln. This added unexpected miles to my journey and I was not that interested in recent housing developments. After a while I lost (or ceased to look diligently for) the Viking waymarks and took a direct route for the centre of town. I went through one of the older estates which made navigation easier as it was blessed with roads that ran in straight lines, rather than the curly streets and puzzle book mazes of modern housing estates. My problems were compounded by the rain that had continued since 2:00 pm at various levels of intensity. As my GPS had a damaged rubber coating it was no longer water tight and my phone did not claim to be waterproof, consequently I limited their use so I did not have a clear idea of where the Viking Way was trying to go, or how to head directly for the shelter of my hotel. 

As a result of the alteration of the Viking Way's route, my day, already long, became significantly longer, so I was very pleased to arrive at my hotel, and even more pleased that I had a planned rest day tomorrow.

Subsequent investigations found that the old route was on the 1:100,000 Ordnance Survey map on my Outdoor Active App, but that the 1:25,000 Explorer series map showed the revised route which was also described by the Lincolnshire walks website. I downloaded the Viking Way route for my GPS in March last year from LDWA website (the trip has been a while in planning). I now see that it was updated three times since then, including the new route through North Lincoln. Lesson is, get the most up to date gpx file.

Donington-on-Bain to Woodhall Spa: E2 Day 79

A morning in the Wolds, lunch at Horncastle and an easy afternoon walk on an old railway line to Woodhall Spa.

This morning there seemed more wooded areas mixed in with the farmland than previous days, stands of pine, beech and hawthorn. Fields of young crops no longer predominated, there were valleys of pasture, with patches of poor drainage, reeds and mud.

The tombstones of an old cemetery where once a church stood attracted my attention, the inscriptions lost with age. Like other villages in the area, in Medieval times the settlement was probably larger, slight mounds in the fields indicating where houses once stood. A little beyond rabbits ran through hedges into their burrows as I approached. I pointed them out to a man with a greyhound on a lead, its muzzle grey with age. Man replied that there were badgers around as well, then pointed out a route through a meadow rather than following the roads of Goulceby. 

A section of the Viking Way. 

I followed the cloudy, whitish waters of Goulceby Beck to the next village of Scamblesby. However it was the church in the village of Belchford that diverted me from the Viking Way for a little as it was offering "TEAS". I made myself a coffee in the church from the facilities provided and ate one (or two) of the biscuits offered in return for a donation. While drinking it I contemplated the white walled church interior with its simple arch leading into the chancel where the choir stalls and other features were picked out with blue. On the wall was a list of those ministering here since the 13th century although the current church dated from the 18th century.

Temptation for hikers at Belchford Church.

As I climbed the hillside away from the village I spotted a rabbit, stationary beside the path. Alive but not moving it seemed to have a hole where one eye should have been and the other eye was closed. Although it seemed close to the end of its life and probably in pain I carried on, the peace I had gained from the church destroyed as I asked why a loving God would allow such suffering. Not being able to continue with a heavy feeling of guilt for doing nothing, I picked up a heavy piece of flint and retraced my steps, intent on quickly ending the animal's life. I worried that I would not be able to dispatch it quickly and cleanly. In the event my ability was not tested, when I returned to the relevant spot, the rabbit had gone. Sadness pervaded my walk for a while, reflected in the grey clouds overhead and not lifted by the bright yellow faces of daffodils planted in lines on the side of the track.

With time I reached Horncastle, the biggest town on the Viking Way so far. In the central square the market was just closing down as I went into a café for a sandwich, guiltily dropping bits of mud from my boots on their floor.

After Horncastle I rejoined the River Bain for a kilometre or so, where it had been tamed into the small Horncastle canal (disused). Sheep grazed its banks. Horncastle marked the end of the Wolds, the land was now much flatter.  For much of my remaining walk to Woodhall Spa I followed an abandoned railway line, making good speed on its flat, firm surface. Trees lined the path and there were sculptures; one of a Viking long boat, another of an otter, others of plants.

Old railway line with sculpture. 

After a final deviation through a golf course I arrived at the town of Woodhall Spa. In the Second World War it housed many troops and airmen. The former were involved in Operation Market Garden described in a film called "A Bridge Too Far". The airmen included those of 617 squadron who were responsible for destroying two dams in Germany with the novel "bouncing bomb". Their exploits were made famous by the film "The Dambusters" with its stirring orchestral accompaniment. As a small child we used to run around the playground singing the music with our arms outstretched pretending to be Lancaster bombers. The film is less acceptable than it once was. Firstly, destruction of the dams killed many innocent people including forced labourers. It would now be classed as a war crime.  Secondly, the name of a black labrador dog who appears in the film (although historically accurate), is no longer considered acceptable. After checking into my Lancaster themed hotel (after the bomber not the place) although tired by today's long walk I visited the memorial to 617 squadron in the town's centre. It commemorates the many brave airmen who died in its service. I imagined the mixture of excitement and fear they must felt. I wondered if they suffered as they died.

Walesby to Donnington-on-Bain: E2 Day 78

A blustery day crossing the fields of Lincolnshire, seeing a herd of deer and a flock of long wool sheep.

Reaching a field with a high fence I was a little irritated by the sign on the gate. It referred to "mummy deer" and not approaching their calves. Firstly, if they were mummy deer were their calves (or fawns) not baby deer? Secondly, why use a word like "mummy"? Were they expecting the reader to be a young child. Even if they thought a word like a "doe" was not likely to be understood, "mother deer" would be a more mature description. With such thoughts I walked into the field and caught the attention not just of a mummy deer but a whole herd of deer. They all looked at me with their ears pricked up, standing very still while watching me cross to the other side. 

Herd of domestic deer watching me.

My next unexpected animal encounter was seeing a flock of Lincoln Longwool sheep, which are large and have an abundance of wool. A little shed sold items related to the sheep or manufactured from their wool and explained the longwools were a rare breed.

Tealby was a pretty little village, especially attractive as it had a village community shop selling coffee and cakes by the 1930's village hall. Fortunate, as the Tea Room I hoped to find was closed. I had tea and more sustenance at a later café at Ludford Parva. Aside from such attractions I walked across fields, of which those of rapeseed were most attractive with their yellow flowers. 

The day turned blustery with periods of high winds and rain as I crossed exposed ground following the straight lines and right angles of the Viking Way. Now in places, instead of white pebbles of chalk exposed in the soil of the fields, or the clay of valley bottoms, there were orange chunks of rock in some of the fields. Maybe it was the Tealby limestone, an easily eroded rock used to build some of the Churches and houses. 

Typical track.

Track by rapeseed field.

In the afternoon my path took me over open grassland to the River Bain. Following this brook, swollen with recent rain, I reached a small lake. Birds were swooping and fluttering over the water. I asked a group of passing men if they were house martins or sand martins? They replied in a manner that brooked no dissent that they were swallows. Which shows how poor I am in bird identification. I could see no red neck or long tail feathers but they were moving fast at a little distance. At least it was a sign of spring arriving. 

River Bain.

Donington-on-Bain was my resting place for the night at a bed & breakfast. As I walked to the local pub for some venison casserole I met again the two students and fellow walkers of the Viking Way who I had chatted with yesterday. 

Barnetby-le-Wold to Walesby: E2 Day 77

A sunny day walking in the Wolds. 

This morning the route took me along the western edge of the Lincolnshire Wolds by several villages with names ending in "by", Bigby, Searby, Grasby. Apparently there are 161 place names in Lincolnshire ending in "by", a Danish suffix meaning farmstead or village it was a sign that Vikings invaded and occupied this area back in the 9th century. 

As I found yesterday the route involved straight paths between open arable fields or by hedges, alternating with quiet roads with periodic 90 degree changes of direction. There was some woodland but not much. By lunchtime I had reached Caistor, a small town where I found a café looking onto a central square. On leaving the centre I stopped to look at a notice about the poet Tennyson outside an Art Centre. It revealed that his grandmother was from the area. While reading the board a man approached me. He wore a yellow gilet emblazoned with the words "Caistor in Bloom". Noting my interest in the sign he declaimed a few stanzas of Tennyson's "The Brook", which he had learnt at school and could still recall every wood sixty years later. We agreed pupils are not taught to recite poetry these days.

A passing dog walker told me this column commemorated a marriage.

Typical path between fields.

At Nettleton Bottom I came across some bricked up adits, tunnels once driven into the side of the valley. I assumed this was related to the extraction of iron ore in the area from horizons beneath the chalk. The route then entered a long, grassy valley, following its bottom for a considerable distance. Rich clay soil meant a lot of mud to negotiate. Once at the top, the Viking Way followed a quiet road with excellent views for many miles over the plain to the west. Another golf ball radar dome stood on a stalk to the east of me.

Coming down from the hillside on my approach to Walesby I caught up with two brothers, also walking the Viking Way, backpacking and camping each night. Before heading for the Walesby Woodland Caravan Park for the night we walked up to the "Ramblers' Church", on a hill to the west of the village. A simple structure with robust, rounded arches dating from the 12th to 15th century. Abandoned by the villagers, despite its architectural merit, due to the climb up the hill, worship moved to nearer the village centre, most recently to a church built in 1913. However the Ramblers' Church was restored and became a place of pilgrimage for walkers. A stained glass window in the depicts walkers and cyclists. Although not used for regular worship the bells were still in use, chiming that it was time head for the campsite.

As I pitched my tent, the forecast rain began. I felt fortunate it had not spoilt my walk.

Stained glass window showing ramblers (male and female) and cyclists approaching Jesus.

Inside the Ramblers' church.

Hessle to Barnetby-le-Wold: E2 Day 76

Today I began the Viking Way from a café in the shadow of the Humber Bridge.

A day of three stages, the first was to cross the Humber Bridge. At 2.2 kilometres, 1.4 miles long, and 1.4 kilometres, 0.9 miles between the two towers, this was not quick. Over the rails of the pedestrian path I looked down on the brown, swirling, waters of the Humber, way beneath me as the estuary reached high tide. At each end there were signs with the telephone numbers of the Samaritans and other organisations who hoped to save suicidal individuals from a watery and unpleasant end. I could also see from the bridge the route of the Viking Way along the southern embankment of the river, but first I visited the Vikings Way café. This was the official start of the Vikings Way and I stopped for a coffee and toasted tea cake while watching the traffic cross the bridge above me.

Viking Way Café, start of the Long Distance Path.

Starting off on the path by the river, after the Blyth tile works I looked in at the Far Ings Nature Reserve. Consisting of several lakes lined with reeds, former clay pits, I could see few birds through the large glass windows of the visitor centre. The man at the desk said the most important inhabitants were the bitterns. Rarely seen but often heard, he said, they cry for a mate with a booming call. As I walked along I heard the chattering of many smaller birds and the occasional honking of geese but nothing I could call "booming". I did however spot a cluster of cowslips, not so often seen in recent years. A sign beside the river warned of quick sand, hidden channels and fast rising tides. The Humber Estuary was so wide that, with the high tide, it looked more like the open sea than an inland river.

In the distance I could see some industrial plant. I asked a man walking his dog if it was Scunthorpe Steelworks. "No" he told me, it was a cement plant in South Ferriby, "Scunny" was some 12 miles away. A metal silhouette of a Viking directed me away from the river uphill and to the south. From the higher ground I could see the cement plant with a long conveyor belt leading, I assumed, to the quarry, which, although unseen, I knew from signs to be on the other side of a gate. I could also see the now Chinese owned steelworks of Scunthorpe in the far distance. Apparently it still has an operating blast furnace.

I was now climbing away from the Humber Estuary heading south into the Lincolnshire Wolds. These chalk hills were gentler than those in Yorkshire, more like a flexing of the landscape, distorting the fields. My path rose and fell almost imperceptibly over the miles. I was on mixture of white farm tracks, reinforced with chalk rubble; quiet single track roads of crumbling tarmac; paths by or between hawthorn hedges, or crossing open fields as a grassy track. The route tended to run in straight lines turning right angles at junctions. Two small deer grazed a verge, a buzzard flew overhead and rain showers came and went. A thunderstorm caught me unprepared. Thunder following lightning rather too closely for my comfort. Being hit by lightning is extremely unlikely but it does happen. I tried to stay close to the hedge. 

White chalk farm tracks with field of rapeseed on left.

Tree and hedges on horizon.

Thunder clouds gathering. 

An intersection of noisy roads preceded my arrival at Barnetby-le-Wold. The village is at a railway junction and my rooms are at a pub next to the station. Having seen references to "Parmo" in the Teesside area tonight I tried something similar to that local delicacy, a Chicken Parmigiana. Chicken baked with a coating of cheese (not parmesan) served with chips and salad. Quite filling but I could not resist the dessert of sponge pudding and custard, it reminded me if school dinners.