I found the train journey to Lincoln interesting.   It’s so long.   Less than an hour to Peterborough and then nearly two hours across long, endlessly flat agricultural land.   Past Spalding, the town of the Gentlemen of Spalding, one of the oldest of those groups of local antiquaries, who met in a coffee house to discuss the latest issue of The Tatler and included Isaac Newton and William Stukeley.   Through Sleaford with its grand but decayed Victorian Maltings.   I didn’t know we had our own prairies:-