Bartimaeus

For various reasons we were late getting going on Sunday. We thought we would look at the cafe that served Sunday lunch but there was no menu outside and while people were eating inside, there was a closed sign on the door. We decided to have a quick lunch in stead on board and press on to the end of the navigation. It would be the nearest we would get to Bryn by canal but still The Wash would be between us and Norfolk, beyond our sailing plans.

Much of the way has been fairly straight but the Witham did have the odd turn in it. We had got a view on our walk the evening before of a prominent landmark which Shane assured me was St Botolph’s. We couldn’t be far away if we could see it but the land is so flat that you can see quite far. Shane called me as we approached a bend and when we turned there was St Botolph’s. There was no sign of the town around it. It would be some time before we got close.

As we got closer it stayed in view. It was an impressive monument. We had various options for mooring up, a side route along to a mill where there was supposed to be mooring or the jetties at the entrance to it, where we did see people moored up or nearer town by the tidal lock. We headed that way but as we got to the very end, there was no sign of mooring. Shane turned round and we went back. Someone moored up, greeted us and explained where we could moor and then said he liked Shane’s turn, the advantage of bow thrusters, he replied. We headed on, first to the water point. It was a slightly tricky mooring on to demolished jetties, rather than rings or bollards but it worked. The hose suddenly fell off the tap but I reattached it and tightened it to the nozzle. Simple things seemed tricky but not insurmountable. All was working and Shane went to find out more about the mooring which were a confusing mix of private and visitor moorings.

Getting to the mooring was still not that easy even when we found a space. The water flow was pushing the boat closer to the next boat moored up than we were happy with. We got tightly secured before heading into Boston, if nothing else it had the impressive church. Shane was paying much more attention to the lock to the tidal section which we were not going to attempt. We made our way towards the tower.

The church wasn’t open but would be the next day. Nearby were some little statues of the early women who tried to leave Boston to be free to practise their own religion. The braids around them symbolised being bound to their husbands and also held captive when their attempt to leave for religious freedom was stopped. I learned of a new craft for making such braids.

From where we were standing we could hear a compere announcing contestants and encouraging applause. We walked towards a small crowd to find him declaring the winner of the Boston’s strongest man competition. There were some sturdy blokes around there, but we had missed their displays of strength.

Around town we found lots of bars advertising football. The Euros final was on in the evening. We decided we would rather not be in the bar at kickoff but an early seat in a beer garden appealed. I tried not to give away my accent as I chose a Spanish beer in case I was suspected of footie favouritism, when actually I just fancied the beer. I was relieved to see even some customers in England football shirts were also drinking Spanish beer.

In our stroll around town we took a walk down Emery Lane and saw a restaurant with a striking slogan in its window. I fancied returning there after having looked at the menu. They closed before the football started so that was good timing and I have never been to a Lithuanian restaurant so it seemed unmissable. Shane is pretty sure that this is the closest point in the canal system to Lithuania, so totally appropriate. We were happy with our choices.

We went to look at the windmill but it is only open two days a week and we were unlikely to still be here. We had a look to see if there really was mooring there. It looked precarious. We might be able to moor but not leave the boat.

We went back to base and kept half an eye on the football scores. The boat moored next to us has people who seemed not too involved so they wouldn’t disturb us with shouting or cheering.

The next day we expected a sombre mood to grip Boston, despite the brighter weather. We headed to the church as it was open and Shane wanted to climb the tower. Inside it was more like a cathedral than parish church. This grand building had a very ungrand nickname, the stump, on account of having no steeple. The ceiling was magnificent. 

There was lots of information about the building and details of the pulpit and masonry. We also found out that at one time Boston was a very important trading point, second only to London and by the end of the thirteenth century it even surpassed London for international trade, and exported wool to many northern European countries countries and hosted a major international market. Ships brought goods from Germany, Italy and and their merchants were part of the Boston guild – an international trade organisation… Now there’s an idea… European merchants paid for the church. 

As I have often done, I took photos of the organ to sent to my ex colleague, who plays the organ. This church has two. Perhaps the grand old one doesn’t work so well any more. There was also a display about the music of a famous Tudor composer. There was an earpiece to listen to the Latin singing. He was an organist, singer and composer.

Further entertainment was a labyrinth, an area with building blocks for children, a Lego model of the church and a matchstick model made by a man who was off work for months and wanted to occupy himself.

We went to the shop where we got tickets to the tower. The lady there was very clear that we should only go up if we were fit because it was very hard to get people down from there if they needed help. The only age restriction was that under 18s were free but must be accompanied. We were given a card that we had to return to the shop, so they could check if someone didn’t return. We hadn’t thought it was quite such an ordeal or dangerous mission. Then as the door was unlocked for us to go up, the woman said there was a funeral on soon so to be aware of that when we came back. We promised to act with consideration…there seemed so much more to consider than expected.

The narrow spiral staircase did have us breathing heavily but we were never suffering. I was pleased to see the light of day and Shane didn’t get any claustrophobic feelings. The views certainly showed how flat the area is and there is a good easy walk round all the sides of the tower. We could see across to the Norfolk coast (but not Lithuania). I sent a picture to Bryn. He commented that you could tell it was Norfolk because it was flat and I sent him pictures in the other direction of flat Lincolnshire. We could see where we were moored but not Bartimaeus.

The route down was a different narrow winding stair, so no chance of meeting anyone going the other way. We were also unlikely to meet anyone as the funeral party had arrived. We had seen the hearse draw up from the top. We waited at the bottom door for the organ to start a hymn before pushing the door open. Other visitors had been cleared and the cafe gates were closed but we could slip into the shop with our card unnoticed by the mourners. There we could not be heard but I felt fortunate to be able to hear the organ playing ‘The day thou gavest Lord is ended’ and ‘Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring’.

The funeral didn’t last long and the cafe reopened and we had a drink and a teacake, though we really didn’t need to recover. A horizontal mirror by the condiments table was laid to entice you to look up at the ceiling. I’m glad they did. There was another Mayflower model inside the cafe. I had read in the churchyard that a couple of the excited pilgrims had died shortly after arrival and caused dispondency among the small hopeful group. What a venture into the unknown that was!