Having eescorted Dr. Jac Batey to Cheltenham for a conference re Zines (which I was to chair) we bumped into Darren Diss, an old friend, once on the MA course at Brighton. He was teaching at Lincoln School of Art. They were looking for an External Examiner for the undergraduate Illustration course, a four year period of pontificating and eating unsuitable food. I had served in a similar capacity at Middlesex Poly, Portsmouth Poly, and other visual courses, and was bored with my own voice at Brighton Exam Boards.

The course was similar in many ways to Norwich, geographically isolated, in a small art school, prone to ignorant attacks of provincialism. If the core of the experience was supporting the talented and genial members of staff and keeping a weather eye open for slurs and unsavoury manoevers by management with resources and accommodation, then the peripherals were attractive. Firstly, getting to know Lincoln. Secondly getting to stay alone in hotels without having to do my own booking. Thirdly experiencing railway lines and stations from King's Cross to Lincoln. Changing at Grantham for Lincoln was an experience familiar to any anxious traveller. On one occasion I changed for a station across town and walked in the rain with my small success to a small drafty shuttle. A fellow passenger was the boss of a Chinese restaurant who gave me a very generous voucher for a free meal. Later that day I learnt he had just been prosecuted for having the body of an Alsatian dog in his fridge.

The ageing process makes very clear when this sort of malarkey has to stop, in terms of energy and running out of jargon. Lincoln was a joy with smart and generous students. The city of Lincoln and surrounding territory left me highly charged in a way that Ely didn't.