As far as I can discover the only place in the whole world with the name Hundleby is our own dear village in Lincolnshire. I would have thought the Americans would have obliged, but apparently not.
I was surprised to find, however, that there are three towns (‘cities’) in the USA named ‘Lincolnshire, one in Illinois, one in Kentucky and a third in South Carolina.
By the way, I was obviously thinking American when I wrote ‘named Lincolnshire’. For I recall that Alastair Cooke once broadcast that Americans can always spot an Englishman, no matter how much he has adapted to their speech, when he says things like ‘I am called Roger.’ That, apparently, indicates a nickname. President Eisenhower was called Ike, but he was named Dwight.
Another tell-tale sign, so I am told, is saying something such as ‘I like Californian wines’ rather than ‘California wines’. I suppose that’s why the Beach Boys sang about California Girls.
It happens within Britain as well, not just broad regional accents, or those U and non-U shibboleths (is it a drawing-room or a lounge, sweet or pudding?), which used to divide the classes. For example, I like to think I’m reasonably well-educated, with an accent that is pretty middle-of-the-road and non-descript, but I only have to say ‘bath’ or ‘castle’ to show I’m not from southern England, and the trouble I have with words like ‘bus’ or, even worse, phrases like ‘good luck’ mark me as coming from Lincolnshire.
Anyway, what was I talking about? Towns called Lincolnshire. And I only mentioned that because I found them when looking for information on the Greenwich Meridian, which runs through Lincolnshire. Actually, all four proposed lines run through Lincolnshire, but that’s another story.
The Meridian, starts at the North Pole (obviously) and doesn’t hit land until it reaches Yorkshire. It crosses the Humber and passes close to Cleethorpes. It then runs through the middle of Louth. If I remember correctly, the library there sat on it.
The next main town it reaches is Boston. Not far from where I lived was a street called Meridian Road. I’ve never found out whether the Meridian actually runs along it, but it is a nice thought.
The line leaves Boston and after London crosses the English Channel into France and then Spain. It doesn’t touch land again until Mali. Then Burkina Faso, Ghana and, briefly, Togo. After these countries it’s all ocean until Antarctica.
So when winter returns to Britain tomorrow, as we are assured it will, it might be some comfort to know that my co-meridianites in Ghana will be baking in the sun, and that further south it’s a lot worse.
