Skegness is so ...

Far!  Possibly due to boredom:the first 12 miles or so were on small, agricultural roads with no villages, just miles of well tended fields of spuds and cabbages.  I did see a tractor going something quite interesting once.  The last few miles were better: villages started to appear, including the attractive village of Wainfleet, made even more attractive by the Bateman's brewery offering free tours.  

First impressions of Skegness were good -it's a good sized town with everything you could need, for example phone charger cables.  The seaside had a good mix of funfair and quiet gardens.  and it had the sea - the first time I'd seen it since just after Hunstanton, nine hours ago.  

However my destination for the night was a few miles north in a campsite of uncertain quality,  so I pressed on, only stopping for a pizza and unlimited refills of cold Sprite.  'Skeggy' quickly changed into a vast expanse of caravans, an unwelcome change after acres of cabbages.  Miles and miles, culminating in Ingoldmells which is like Nevada-by-the-sea with a huge array of rollercoasters and other money-removing attractions.  

This is where my campsite was, so I wasn't impressed.   Luckily the campsite was a mile inland and away from it all.  It was here I lost my phone charger cable (now found).  The campsite was attached to a pub which proclaimed itself as 'The best pub in Lincolnshire'.  Nothing could have been further from the truth.   

This morning I was awoken by four birds a-calling (more pigeons).  I counted myself lucky as just over the hedge from my tent were also eight geese a-laying and one dog a-growling. Mercifully these kept quiet all night.  After a fingertip seaech of the field, which surprised an early morning rabbit, that which was lost was found, and grumpiness was put away.

Starting at 6.30 again I went through more acres of caravans with cafés cruelly advertising all-day breakfast, all closed.  Some lovely cycling along the sea wall with the sun rising over the silver sea. In places the path was covered by nasty thick sand. In Top Gear speak the back end was twitchy.  So was the front end, and the rider.

It was nearly 8 before I found somewhere open, a 'hotel' offering breakfast and a pint for £5.  There was already one chap queuing for his first pint of the day, and he was joined before 8.30 by three more, supping their pints and watching Daybreak...