Lincoln, England - when I finally got here, after an interminable journey that had me wishing for gloves and a woolly hat and a winter coat, not to mention trains that didn't run to a Sunday timetable, and taxis at the station - Lincoln seems like a pretty and in parts ancient city, which I've never visited before, and now am here for a conference that slides in just as celebrations of the Magna Carta slides out. This is a very, very old bridge (I cropped out Ye Olde Markse and Spenserse on the right) that is clearly one of the Standard Tourist Views - but very pretty all the same.
For one brief moment, as we neared Lincoln on the train, all the grey clouds lifted and one could think that England in summer might be quite palatable - this looks ready for captioning for a transportation ad, of course - "it's quicker by train." Which, believe me, it almost certainly isn't.
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