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Travel StoriesFrolicking In The Flattish Lands
Bothering The Locals And "Hills"
Ride Date 12 Nov 2025
By Ren Withnell
Sharon has been researching. There is - allegedly - a pretty village called Tealby some 36 miles northwest of our current location. With no better suggestions from myself this is to be our destination for today then. There appears to be a cafe there although Google doesn't offer much hope with the opening hours. I'm sure we'll find something.
Once again the forecast is "light rain and drizzle showers". Sharon remains unsatisfied, I'm merely thankful it's not snowing yet. Her Ladyship decides another pillion day would suit her and by 1000 the bike is running and we're ready to ride.
The roads are wet and cold, as are the tyres. I'm thankful for the gentle curves and flowing roads, this isn't the weather for scrubbing chicken strips and getting your pegs down. It's cold too as the damp air sucks any body heat away. Hopefully Sharon's keeping tucked in behind me, out of the damp chill air. We're not fast, we're moving with the little traffic there is. I'm using the locals to manage the pace which is plenty fast enough for me.
Tealby does indeed present itself as a pretty village. I slow right down as there's no traffic with me so we can take it in. Ahead is a "Darling Buds Of May" village hall, with a board outside - "Coffee Morning - All Welcome". I doubt the locals had itinerant motorcyclists in mind when that sign went up but I'm envisioning warmth, tea, oooh and cake. Even temperature deprived bikers comes under the auspices of "All".
All welcome it says...
We'll fit right in with the locals I reckon.
As we enter the scene is exactly as you'd expect. Old building with wooden flooring and panels - check. foldable tables and chairs complete with mostly female pensioners - check. A picture of King Charles - check. As soon as we enter the quiet polite chatter of the pensioners fades much like when the gunslinger enters the bar. There's no staring or dirty looks, no fear or terror, there is but a polite sense of confusion appearing upon their faces.
Everything is exactly as you'd expect it to be.
A poor unsuspecting lady emerges from presumably a kitchen, spots us and a kind yet bewildered look crosses her face. "Hello" she says politely. "Ow do, we saw ya sign outside, we'd like a brew if that's OK?" As soon as it's established we're here for a brew and not to rape and pillage the mood returns to normal. For a "contribution" we can have a brew apiece and a little cake, oh and a biscuit if you wish. I put a fiver in the pot, we get our cake and our tea and a biscuit. Or two.
By pure happenstance we're sat beside one of only 2 chaps here today. Of course he used to have a motorcycle. Well, actually in the fullness of time we learn his Dad had a motorcycle, he purchased a similar bike, couldn't restore it himself so he paid a fortune to get it restored, then sold it not too long after. Or something like that. Lovely fellow but I can't see him riding to The Highlands in the rain.
We depart with thanks to our hosts then take a short stroll around Tealby. Yes, the cafe is closed so it was a small mercy the village hall was having a coffee morning. It's terribly pretty, very quiet, very quaint, and a quick look on Rightmove tells use we'll not be living here anytime soon. Ho well.
The name Market Rasen conjures an image of a cute little town, and therein lies it's downfall. It's bigger than I expected and not as cute as I expected. If I'd come without expectation I'd have probably said it's OK. We ride around a little, Sharon comments "nah, move on" and we depart.
Louth on the other hand sounds like slang for lout, thus bringing a less positive set of expectations. Be it expectation or reality Louth appears to ourselves as the better place. We park up with a mind to get some supplies, we end up taking an hour's stroll around the town. It has a nice mix of old and new, independents and chains, weird and regular. Oh, and the parking for the bike is free - bonus.
Result!
Sharon gets some weird sweets from the sweet shop, I stick with good ol' Uncle Joe's Old Mint Balls, all the way from Wigan close to my home town. If thy sinus ist 'er gee-in thee jip, geet thesen daan ter't Unkul Joes faktree an ava whiff, clear thee reet up thas will.
Yeah, it's alright is Louth. We have supplies from a supermarket as well as our sweeties, all of which is stowed in the top box. There's a little more light rain as we ride home along the A16. I notice something, I need to make a point here.
There's hills. Well... no... Look OK this trip is titled "Frolicking In The Flatlands" and once upon a time in Lincolnshire I dared to suggest "It's flat around here". This was met with horror by a local barman, you'd have thought I'd insulted his wife. "It's not flat here! You should try cycling up such and such a hill".
Well we must be in The Lincolnshire Wolds. There are indeed undulations in the landscape and you might, if you squint really hard, be able to call them "hills". I doubt I'm at risk of my ears popping nor triggering my fear of heights, but yes this road goes upwards - gently - for a while then downwards - gently - for a while later. It's rural and arable and there's trees and even the odd streams. It's lovely it really is.
Clear evidence that not all of Lincolnshire is flat. It's almost like The North Face Of The Eiger.
However if that barman ever took his bicycle to North Wales or The Highlands I believe he'd be in for a shock.
Sharon is making tea while I'm making a nuisance of myself. I'm a lot better at not doing much these days but I still get a bit bored and the cure for boredom is annoying Sharon. She's probably had enough of me when we've finished eating so I decide to go out for a walk. Sharon, likely desiring some peace and quiet, leaves me to it.
It's cold, there's a firm chill breeze coming in off the sea, and there's a little light rain in the air from time to time. There's a bus stop with an acceptably regular service into Skeggy, that's a good thing. Save for the occasional bus as scheduled there's barely any traffic. I'm heading south along Roman Bank towards Butlins. Statics as far as the eye can see (in the dark) with a roller coaster visible in some pointless illumination.
There's not a soul here - why waste electricity illuminating the roller coaster?
Serving the roller coaster is a plethora of arcades and shops, a car park too. All of them are shut, roller shutters down and secured. All save for one - a kebab house. Why? I can only hope they get custom from Uber eats because there's only myself walking the streets tonight. The sign on the Spar shop gleefully declares it's open from 0700 to 2300 7 days a week! Well that's a lie, it's 1940 and it does not look like it's been open for months.
Lies! Damnable LIES! You can't trust no-one or nuffink these days.
It's a fascinating experience. I've seen many places just like this over the years but they're always filled with emmets. Children screaming, ice cream or chips in a cone, seagulls begging or fighting for food, nan having a rest and a smoke on a bench, the annoying bleeps and dings from slot machines, and queues to buy tickets to join the queue to ride the roller coaster or the dodgems. To see it empty and lifeless is such a contrast, an interesting and enjoyable contrast.
It feels like a scene for a zombie movie.
I'm glad I went to have a look. I think Sharon's suggestion of Tealby worked out well. The forecast for tomorrow is "perhaps dry" and we're cosy and warm in the static. The only real concern is our ride home on Friday looks rather wet. Hmmm. Let's just see what we can get up to tomorrow first. Sharon is teasing me, she's rolled a sock down and lifted her jeans a little - revealing just a glimpse of her ankle. Oooooh the little minx!
Advertise here - contact ren@bikesandtravels.com
Prologue And A Rough First Day
Prudent as ever Ren accidentally stumbles into a super cheap static caravan north of "Skeg-Vegas". All that remains to be done is getting there. If previous experience of heading east is anything to go by - it might not be that easy.
Lonesome In The Flatlands
Ren is hoping for a better day weatherwise and riding-wise too. Ingoldmells is deserted, Skeggy and Mablethorpe ain't up to much, luckily the countryside is better than expected.
Bothering The Locals And "Hills"
The Dynamic Muppets are bothering the good people of Lincolnshire as well as bringing the house prices down. There's tea and cake and sweeties too, hills, and spooky stuff.
Reader's Comments
Upt'North ¹ said :-
You put a fiver in but how much did you take out?
And cover that ankle missy.
We've dropped into a couple of places full of Miss Marple types enjoying tea and cake. Although it says "all are welcome" you most obviously aren't. I think it means if Ethel is back from the clinic on time please pop in.
On the subject of cold and wet and wind and sleet and snow, anybody else ready for spring?
Pffffffftttttt.
Upt and on painting and electric duties.
Double Pffffffftttttt.
27/01/2026 16:25:44 UTC
nab301 said :-
Ren , I guess next time the locals have a coffee morning the sign will be modified to "all locals welcom"e and just in case the cannon will be loaded and ready to fire...
@ upt , well ready here for the delights of spring and storm chandra , if only I had a little dingy/ canoe, woke up to this today (luckily only the garden) and serious flooding elsewhere locally and nationally
Nigel
27/01/2026 17:20:43 UTC
Bogger said :-
That ain't good Nab.
Bogger
27/01/2026 19:38:03 UTC
Upt'North ¹ said :-
It's a bit cool for outdoor swimmin, although a spot of fishin wouldn't go amiss.
Thank gawd it's on the outside.
Upt.
28/01/2026 07:55:45 UTC
Ren - The Ed¹ said :-
Damn nab301! You've got your own pool, that's well posh. As long as the garage isn't flooded you'll be alright.
Upt' - are you suggesting I'd steal from the tea and cake fund? I would never do that... but I do have a rather nice new mug now... And yes a little hint of spring would be nice. I did notice that when I finish work at 1700 here in the gritty grimy bits of north west England - there's now a hint of daylight left. Just a hint mind, unless it's overcast then it's almost dark. It's overcast a lot hereabouts.
The thing with the transition from winter to spring is it's not linear. One moment you're meandering around in February and it's almost warm, dry, even sunny. The daffs are out, the roads are dry, and you've had one of your jumpers surgically removed. You cast aside the waterproofs and the thermals and the liners. 3 days later it's -6c, there's snow on the ground that's now turned to ice, and your ears hurt if you step outside for more then 4 minutes.
At least in summer the rain is warmer.
28/01/2026 08:22:03 UTC
nab301 said :-
That's it Ren , every cloud has a silver lining!
Nigel
28/01/2026 17:32:00 UTC
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Travel StoriesFrolicking In The Flattish Lands