We didn't plan to be in Boston. Yet here we are.

Nothing wrong with Boston. We visited back in 2019, liked it, and said we'd go back.

Not so good, however, was our reason for coming.

Which is that Nigel has a cough.

This is possibly the worst ailment you can have at the moment, as when you say "cough", people can only think of one thing...

But it's not that thing. We have scored multiple negative lateral flow tests, plus a negative PCR test apiece.

Nevertheless, it's something. And we felt it wasn't a great idea, while at least one of us was harbouring a potentially infectious "something", to be staying with our relative (who's fit and strong, and undaunted by anything, but at the end of the day is not the youngest person in the world). The absolute last way you want to repay weeks of hospitality is by leaving behind a respiratory infection that might linger on for the rest of the winter.

So we upped sticks, and rented a little cottage in Boston, where we can keep our germs to ourselves. Nigel doesn't feel ill. He just has an annoying cough, which mostly afflicts him at night. So we're still going out, and getting fresh air and exercise. We're just not associating with anyone.

Now there's a long back-story here, which I won't go into. Suffice it to say that the public health system in the UK is really, really struggling at the moment...

Not at all the fault of the noble souls staffing it. But definitely someone's fault, as it's extraordinarily difficult to access medical care, and that situation does end up being quite stressful.

We ended up paying for a private online consultation. (This wasn't a massive amount of use. If you have some unspecified "virus", there's not a lot anyone can do. I guess I'd been hoping the nice doctor would say: "Oh, this is almost certainly an allergic reaction. It's yours and yours alone." But he didn't. He said it was almost certainly a virus, and it should improve within a week, but in the meantime, Nigel was indeed infectious, and should take appropriate measures to avoid passing his bugs on. How he contracted such a thing, when we've been so, so, so covid-shy is anyone's guess... I'm mystified, personally.)

Anyway, Boston... Which has not only oceans of surrounding fresh air, guaranteed (surely?) to clear your lungs, but also an interesting history.



The town has a fine pedigree. By the beginning of the 12th century, it had exploited its position at the head of a tidal river that linked it to the North Sea to gain a flourishing position as an inland port. In fact, by the 13th century, it was one of the premier ports in England, exporting wool, lead, and salt to the rest of Europe, and importing goods such as wine, fur, and spices. Its role as a trading post for the Hanseatic League propelled it to the rank of richest town in Lincolnshire, and one of the most influential in the country.

But of course, these things never last... Wool exports began to drop as early as the 15th century. Boston drifted downwards in the economic rankings. River silting was an issue. And the advent of the railway sounded the final death knell for the port.

These days, there's a reasonable amount of less than positive news around. Sample news stories:

Exhibit A: "Boston was the lowest ranking Lincolnshire district in the UK Prosperity Index for 2021." Boston ranked 333rd out of 379. Ouch...

Exhibit B: "Residents hit back after their town is named one of the worst places to live in England". Not entirely serious, this survey, but it placed Boston among the "50 worst places to live" in the UK...

I don't know what it's like to live here, but it's definitely more than OK as a place to stay. The picture at the top summarizes a lot of what it's about: flat land, rich fields, and the huge tower of St Botolph's or the Boston Stump.

And then there's the water... The town of Boston (one of the many currently bidding to become a city) is poised on the edge of an incredibly watery world, as this map of Fenland waterways shows.

There's the river (the River Witham flows into the tidal River Haven here); and there's a complex system of waterways known as the Witham Navigable Drains, which connect to the River Witham at Anton's Gowt. The drains, mostly man-made, are primarily used, as you might expect, to drain the surrounding fens -- to make marshland into croppable fields, in other words. But in the past, they also served to transport agricultural produce, and even now they are used for leisure purposes, although doing so sounds like it's a bit of a mission. (Sample instruction for working a lock: "Before releasing the clutch on the guillotine take a firm grip on the winding handle to prevent any kick back...")

I'm not wholly sure why I find these waterways, with their drains and locks and sluices and aqueducts, so fascinating. But I do. They're somehow emblematic of such a lot of life: maybe audaciously misguided, yet also admirable, heroic, undeniably beautiful, somehow hopeful in their continued use and reinvention.












There are many other interesting things in Boston, too, however. Hussey Tower, which dates from the mid-15th century, and now stands somewhat incongruously surrounded by modern housing, is one such.


Its builder, Sir John Hussey (1465-1536), was prominent in the court of Henry VIII (one of the roles he occupied was Chief Butler of England, which sounds like a pretty interesting thing to put on your CV), and his wife, Anne, was lady-in-waiting to Princess Mary, Henry's eldest daughter. Unfortunately, Mary's demotion in the royal rankings meant that Anne found herself imprisoned in the Tower of London for referring to her as a princess.

Nor did Sir John end up luckier. When the Church of England was founded in 1533, he continued as a Roman Catholic. Many others did the same, but it was not necessarily an easy choice, and 2 October 1536 saw the beginning of the Lincolnshire Rising, when thousands of Catholics marched upon Lincoln in protest at the persecution they were suffering. They occupied Lincoln Cathedral, but the protest was speedily put down, and the leaders were tried and executed.

Sir John kept a low profile, both in this uprising and in a similar phenomenon that took place in Yorkshire, the Pilgrimage of Grace. Nevertheless, he was accused of being a conspirator, found guilty of treason, and beheaded at Lincoln Castle in 1536.

Hussey Tower was destroyed on Henry's orders: "Only the main tower was left standing -- a chilling reminder of what happened to those accused of treachery."

Rochford Tower, on the outskirts of the town, is contemporary with Hussey Tower. You can't get right up to it, but it's still impressive:



We'll be OK here for a few days. It's cold at the moment. Very cold, even. But we have ways of staying toasty: