On New Year’s Day, there are only so many acceptable life choices. You can stay in and keep eating things that shouldn’t still exist in the fridge. Or you can get out, get some air, and start the year by reminding yourself that Spilsby has edges, not just streets. This is a gentle, no-fuss walk from Halton Holegate into town, finishing at Sir John Franklin’s statue — with enough landmarks (and potential warm-up stops) to make it feel like an outing rather than “I suppose we should move our legs”.
New Year’s Day is a funny one for walking. The roads can be quieter, the light can be surprisingly crisp, and the town feels slightly reset. It’s a good day for an easy route with a clear finish, because you can do it at your own pace and still end somewhere civilised for a hot drink. Do bear in mind that opening hours vary on 1 January, so treat any pub stop as a bonus rather than a guarantee.
Setting off: Halton Holegate to Halton Road
Start in Halton Holegate and, if you like neat beginnings for the first walk of the year, make it The Bell Inn. Halton Holegate is the sort of village where the name still feels like it belongs to the landscape, and in winter it has that proper “fresh air will do you good” atmosphere.
From there, head west along Halton Road towards Spilsby.
This is the bit people often rush, which is a shame, because it’s exactly where the countryside does the quiet work of setting the mood. In low winter light the fields can look almost textured, and now and then you can spot faint combed patterns in the ground. Those aren’t your eyes playing tricks. In places, they’re the lingering traces of older farming — ridge-and-furrow — the kind of thing you only notice once someone tells you what you’re looking for.
And since we’re talking about the way places change: Halton Holegate once had its own railway station on the old branch line, and Spilsby did too. When you find yourself heading down Boston Road, it’s worth remembering there used to be a proper station and goods yard there — the station building is now occupied by Chandlers. The railways weren’t “a thing that happened elsewhere”. They were part of the town’s working life. The clues are there, in that oh-so-familiar architecture.
It’s also a good moment to remember that Spilsby’s landscape has been edited before. If you’ve read our Old Spilsby piece, you’ll already know the town hasn’t always sat where it does today. An earlier settlement down by Partney Bridge still survives as earthworks. So this walk isn’t just “village into town”. It’s you moving across a place that has shifted its centre of gravity before and with the upcoming new development of up to 600 houses it may well do so again.
Into Spilsby: railways, Franklin Hall and first landmarks
Keep going and, with the road feeling more town than countryside now, you’ll pass Franklin Hall. It’s one of those buildings many of us have used without ever pausing to ask why it exists. It began life in 1899 as a Drill Hall and rifle range — a very late-Victorian mix of discipline, training, civic pride and community organisation — and it has been repurposed more than once since. Today it’s a venue for events, clubs and community life, which is a rather good outcome for a building that has always been about gathering people together.
A little further on you’ll reach the first proper “yes, we’re in Spilsby now” landmark: the Red Lion. Even if you don’t stop, it’s a handy marker — and it’s also your reminder that this route can be as much a pub-and-history stroll as you want it to be.
And since we’re talking about the way places change: Halton Holegate once had its own station on the old branch line, and Spilsby did too. When you find yourself on Boston Road next, it’s worth remembering there used to be a proper station and goods yard there — the station building is now occupied by Chandlers. The railways weren’t “a thing that happened elsewhere”. They were part of the town’s working life. It’s all there in that oh-so-familiar architecture.
Soon enough you’re pulled towards the centre — and you can feel it, because Spilsby is the kind of town that likes a clear focal point. You step into the Market Place, and even if today’s market can feel like a sorry excuse compared to what older residents remember, the space still does the job it was built for. It’s the stage set. Streets feed into it. People meet there. News travels there. That’s the whole idea of a market town.
At the eastern end sits the Buttercross, Spilsby’s market cross — a quiet little reminder that trade wasn’t an extra feature. It was the organising principle. And if you want the longer version of how Spilsby became this kind of town, the Old Spilsby article is that particular rabbit hole.
Detours and destination: Market Street, Franklin House and the statue
Before you go straight towards the Franklin Statue, take a small detour onto Market Street. You’ll come to Little Italy. It’s closed at the moment, but it’s hard not to notice the slightly neglected feel that comes when a place is in limbo. The reason it matters for this walk is that this patch of town contains some of Spilsby’s oldest surviving domestic buildings. Conservation documents describe the buildings here as among the earliest survivors in the market area, and even note older construction (including mud-and-stud) hidden behind the shopfront feel.
A slight detour further along Market Street is The Nelson Butt — another tidy stopping point if you’re pacing the walk with a warm-up drink in mind.
Now cross back towards High Street by cutting across the Buttercross Car Park. On the far side, look for Franklin House, better known day-to-day because it’s the Cooplands bakery. This is Franklin’s birthplace, marked on the building — a prelude to our destination, because the statue you’re heading towards is him.
From there it’s only a short stroll up to the High Street to where the statue is waiting. It was erected in 1861 and it does not do subtle: Franklin stands high on a stone base with an anchor underfoot and a telescope in hand, while the inscription spells out the town’s claim plainly — born at Spilsby, died in the Arctic.
Spilsby’s statue isn’t the only memorial to him, either. There’s a Franklin statue in London (Waterloo Place), and another prominent one in Franklin Square, Hobart — a reminder that the story that begins in a small Lincolnshire market town ends up scattered across the world.
If you want to finish New Year’s Day in the most satisfying way, you’re perfectly placed. The White Hart is near the Market Place and The George is only a short stroll away. If you started at The Bell, passed the Red Lion and the Nelson Butt, and ended by the statue, you’ve essentially done a first-walk-of-the-year Spilsby history route, with a pub trail stitched into it. That’s not a bad way to begin.
