Lincoln

The weather didn’t know what it wanted to do with itself on the day I went back to Lincoln. On my early morning bike ride, snowdrops had put in an appearance on the grass verges for the first time this year, hanging brightly from their deep green and very determined shoots. The skylarks I’d heard earlier in the week were out in force again, also convinced that spring was on the way. Sunshine had given way to cloud and there was stiff breeze on top of that by the time I’d arrived at Newark Castle for the 11.57 to Lincoln, which was provided by an on-time two-car Class 156 unit for a 28-minute journey at a cost of £4.40 for us oldies.

Things were quite busy at Lincoln. The 5-car bi-modal Azuma unit would be depending on its own diesel engines to reach the overhead wires at Newark Northgate. Quite a crowd had gathered for the 1.24 departure with the promise of first-class accommodation at the front of the train, as well as an “at your seat” refreshment service, on the journey to King’s Cross. Units also sped off to Sheffield and Leeds, Nottingham and Leicester, Spalding and Peterborough and Grimsby and in less than an hour, three Class 66 hauled freights had carried containers and cement through the centre roads. An elderly gentleman seated on platform 4 suddenly sprang to his feet, temporarily abandoning his half-eaten sandwich to scurry towards the platform end to join three other guys all with cameras trained on the latest Class 66 to pass through eastwards. “Don’t get in the way”, he informed me as I belatedly made it in time to share the moment. I took a step to the side, which luckily was enough to keep him onside. A local bell ringing practice struck up, which also seemed very apt in this characterful cathedral city.

The university at Lincoln has expanded steadily over the years, including the provision of a number of new buildings in the former railway territory close by. Many of the students were now heading home on this Friday afternoon, thus making my own train homewards a bit more problematic than I would have liked. As I waited for my train, the station announcer politely requested that we should use a face covering if we can “as a courtesy to other travellers”, which I thought probably caught the mood appropriately of these ever-changing times. I was quickly on board when the train pulled in and I sat down next to a window on the back seat in the carriage and hoped everyone else would walk past me. The coach filled up and a lady roughly my age with a mask on sat next to me until Hykeham. I had chosen the right side though, because as we accelerated away from that station stop, we passed a marsh harrier, quartering about 2 metres above a meadow of rough grassland, moving very deliberately, head down, tail flicking and alongside the train. For a few moments I stopped worrying about keeping safe. Then two people further down the coach started coughing at the same time.