At 8.30am – when it was 18°C – the holiday apartment in Penrith (a small town in Cumbria) we were staying in was left; the car moved 6 minutes later and went along the very dead high street sort of street, followed by Middlegate, King Street, Victoria Road, and a couple more streets before the village of Beaumont Bridge (where I saw a man in a mostly horizontal bicycle cycling) followed by Clifoton, Hackthorpe, and somewhere called Little Strickland that appeared non-existent; and there was a lot of mist over the fields either side of the road, which I tried to photograph while whizzing past. On the A6, sheep could be seen grazing on almost every hill, the road got very bumpy and wiggly, and a small sign warning of cows from April to November was by the roadside somewhere I forgot the name of. In Kendal at 9.20am were big Jaguar and Ford showrooms, petrol stations, a big bridge went over the River Kent (and the car said it was 19°C), a tiny little village called Crook had a big Lib Dem sign on a verge, and a 5 star hotel called The Gillingham had something I forgot outside it; there was a little Chihuahua being cuddled outside the place we needed to be when it got reached, the coffee shop/hut sort of place was closed, but it’s unusual menu was on display outside, and included rum & raisin, and bubble gum flavoured coffee.
At 9.55am, the driver (who was also the guide) began telling us about the window vents, that the time to come back to the bus was not negotiable (and said ‘never miss an opportunity to pee’), and then told us where we’d be stopping (and was speaking at high speed). He said something to his Siri device (which responded), and at 10.03am, this bus moved: we were told the size of Lake Windermere (14.73km², 18km long and 1.6km wide), an old English word I forgot, Windermere meaning ‘Vinandr’s lake’ in Old Norse, and þveit meaning paddock in Old Norse; and it’s estimated they get 20 million visitors a year here – which is about 4 times more than Yellowstone. At 10.10am we were on the A591, I saw a Vote Conservative sign, a 5 star hotel called Langdale Chase, The Waterhead Inn (which was explained as something I forgot), and then at 10.20am this bus stopped outside an Indian eatery in Ambleside (the 3rd largest town in the Lake District).
When it moved again the origin of the towns name was explained (and I forgot it); Smithy Road, Kirkstone Road, and The Struggle were the next roads – the last one taking a while due to its narrowness (and he mentioned something I forgot); 3.1 acres For Sale was on a sign, and Kirkstone Pass was driven along, he said he once came down here on his push bike at 50mph, sheep were everywhere; and by 10.50am we were by a lake called Brothers Water (named that due to a couple of brothers skating around on the frozen water and drowning).
Patterdale (once Patricks Dale) was the next village (4 minutes later), the driver said a lot about Saint Patrick, and a banner on the fence of St. Patrick’s Church (in Patterdale) mentioned something I forgot, we were told public toilets in Grassmere are ‘pay to pee’ ones – so the ones here were recommended; and at 11am – there was a stop by the massive Ullswater Lake in bright sunshine: some half naked people in kayaks were on it, a couple of Dachshunds were trotting along, and I tried to photograph as much as possible in 5 minutes.
Glenridding was the next village, a man in a kayak was feeding swans something, the guide started reciting the ‘I wandered lonely as a cloud’ poem by William Wordsworth (who lived in Penrith: Wikipedia – William Wordsworth), and Aria Force waterfall had something said about it; Dockray contained something I forgot, then The Cross Key Inn (rebranded in 1568 to The Royal Hotel – after Mary Queen of Scots stayed there) and a hill called the saddleback were pointed out, and we were told there’s 3 troutbacks in the Lake District, and in one of them someone I forgot the name of dying all his sheep pink was mentioned (and I forgot the reason for the dying). The bus was on the A66 at 11.40am and the driver was talking to the passengers sat behind him about his enjoyment of wild camping (and that he’d be doing it tonight) and that the van is a 2.1 litre Mercedes Sprinter (weighing 2.6 tonnes without people – and has done 216000 miles); and then bumpy lanes got us to Castlerigg – a stone circle raised in about 3000 BC during the Neolithic period.
We got off the bus, blobs of sheep wool, buttercups, and mole hills could be seen amongst the grass, what looked a bit like a mini Stonehenge was visible, an extremely long dry stone wall, no flat land could be seen, a few sheep were grazing; and I saw an ice cream van on the return. We were told Keswick means a place where cheese is made), St. John’s in the Vale was pointed out (which looked like a neighbourhood), Dirty Boots Cafe wasn’t far down the road; and then Thirlmere reservoir’s mechanism of water taking 27 hours to reach Manchester, and 1st May 1727 were mentioned for some reason I forgot, followed by helm crag (more commonly known as the lion and the lamb). A village called Grasmere got stopped in, we were told (by the guide – who termed them ‘pay to pee’) the toilets cost 60p, and then we all got off into a little park at about 12.30pm (which was termed a lunch break). A massive Old English Sheepdog was walked through, there were a lot of people, a big green bus arrived at the bus stop (which said Grasmere Broadgate on it), I – seated on a bench in this park – ate a bit of pie due to my blood sugar, bright sun continued to shine, and it was 1.13pm when Mum wanted to move.
I saw a shop called Herdy (with nothing but sheep orientated merchandise), and a car with a black spaniel sort of dog sticking his or her head out of the back window while sat on a wall waiting for our bus to return. When it did, and it moved, I saw a couple of houses called Fudge Factory and Chocolate Cottage; the Coffin Road – due to it being something I forgot – was described; and then a big lake was passed (called Rydal), Rydal Mount (which was something I forgot), The Badger Inn, and Ambleside was returned to at 1.40pm. I saw a water sports centre, the guide was saying stuff about Beatrix Potter and her leaving everything in her will to the National Trust, a Windermere Jetty Museum was passed, we were told if we wanted to give the tour a five star review his name is Tim, and if not – his name is Sandra; and at 1.56pm – we were returned to Windermere.
I’d remembered his enquiry about my notepad, so gave my quick explanation and info card (and the comment made by him was ‘I’m sorry to hear that but good on you’) (and I managed to take a sneaky photo of him for illustration purposes). Bright sun felt very warm, we passed a bit of beach almost covered in geese (and some people – including a tiny Chinese looking boy – were feeding them) when heading up the road, where Mum wanted ice cream, seagulls were making loud noises, and I saw a man wearing a t-shirt that said ‘The Dogfather’ on it.
These ice-creams were consumed (and there was quite a variety avaliable…
…a couple of RAF jets flew over (at spectacular speed – meaning loud noises) while we sat there, and then the car was returned to, it felt even hotter in there, and air conditioning began blasting as soon as the engine was on. Hilly lanes were wiggled round, the car said it was 24°C, the A592 had a van stopped on the side of the road (it said something I forgot on it), Patterdale was the next village, followed by Glenriding (and I saw a couple of girls getting in to a lake there), and when a sign for a National Trust property called Aira Force appeared, Mum decided she wanted to stop there.
The car was parked by 3.25pm, and when we got out, a slightly odd parking system (involving swiping a membership card) had to be dealt with; and then a very wooded path up a hill – alongside a stream and a lot of what seemed to be oak trees had a waterfall at the top. A man confused by the map asked me a rather complicated question about the map, another waterfall wasn’t far away…
…and the path down the other side of the stream had on it what Mum thought was a beech tree with a big branch that had – at some point – decided to divert its growth directly upwards.
A child was running around with a litter picker lower down, and 7 bins for 6 different types of waste were by visitor reception; back in the car at 4.33pm, it was 24°C, it moved 5 minutes later, and 2 half naked little toddlers were running around the car park. Warning signs for red squirrels were on the road I forgot the number of, the cars milometer hit 30000 not far from Pooley Bridge; and we were back at the apartment at 5.10pm.
