Yesterday, in need of exercise, we set off to walk into town but then Lee, marina manager, offered us a lift, which, shamefully, we accepted, so much for exercise.
We had never explored Hinckley Castle or the interior of the church so we found our way around the council offices into what proved to be an intriguing little park dominated by
the church and bandstand, which was actually playing music, as though the ghosts of long dead musicians were still trying to attract an audience, spooky.
Also the remains of the motte and bailey and the moat of Hinckley Castle, built just after the Norman invasion and abandoned by the 13th C. (I read the little plaques they put up.)
The top of the motte now houses the town war memorial.
Wildlife abounds, I'm quite proud of the blackbird.
The parish church stands amidst the leaning memorials to local inhabitants, some date to the early 18th C. and all are carved from slate, the inscriptions as crisp now as the day they were cut.
Couldn't resist this one, you just don't get names like that anymore.
Graffiti belongs to all ages, the modern stuff was totally uninteresting.
The interior of the church boasts a thriving coffee shop, a second hand book stall and a positive swarm of vacuum cleaners being wielded by the holy dusters.
We did walk back to the boat, unfortunately via Subway so all calories used replaced.
This morning it snowed.
Now it's raining, tomorrow?