Thursday, Oct 4 - A rainy, windy day here in the North East. Watching a weather prediction is like watching someone trying to predict the winner of the Kentucky Derby. There's a lot of local stuff, and one side of England can be totally different from the other side, or the north can be very different from the south. And the forecasts can change by the hour.

We had a pretty good feeling about the forecast for today, so decided to tackle Cat Bells, a peak above Durwent Water. It's at about 450 feet, a good vertical from the lakeshore, and promised to offer fine views of the lake and the countryside. So we took a ride into Keswick, and booked the 11:30 ferry over to Hawse End, where we could start our assault on the peak. It was drizzly, but no wind, so had promise of improving. Didn't happen. The further we were into our ascent, the worse the weather got. To make matters worse, a good part of the climb was over slippery rocks on a very steep slope, so we really had to be careful, watching where every foot was placed.

But we persevered, and reached the top after an hour of hard slugging. Found out that someone had been injured on the way up, and the Mountain Rescue team was hauling the person down. We headed down the other side, making it a circular route, and saw the team proceeding down through the bracken. We made a good choice, as the descent was somewhat easier than it would have been had we gone back down the same way we'd come up. A longer walk, but more pleasant. We were soaked by the time we got back to the ferry pick-up point, as the rain really intensified and the wind howled considerably. But we arrived 10 minutes before the ferry, so timed it just right, as the ferry only comes to that pier hourly. Result: cold, wet, but happy we'd done the hike.

Once home, we dried out, went to the center for a hot tub and an ale, and felt just rejuvenated. So there you go, a little adventure to finish off our time in the Lake District. Tomorrow we'll have a relaxed morning, then set off for Glasgow, to check into our hotel in readiness for our flight on Saturday. It's been a great trip, and we'll have happy memories as we head home. One final report, perhaps. More later. Stay tuned.

Wednesday, Oct 3 - Cloudy, somewhat drizzly, with brief spots of respite today. So given that it's mid-week, and that we had trudged more than 18 miles over the past two days, we decided to do  a grand tour today. Not too much walking, and a little bit of sight-seeing. So that's what we did.

But before that, we did a long walk yesterday around Durwent Water. It was a very good walk, some ups and downs, but mostly just fairly long, as it was a little more than 10 miles around in total. The lake is surrounded by lovely hills, the waters relatively quiet, and it wasn't overly crowded. There were a fair number of walkers, but not enough to make it uncomfortable. There are lots of people here in Cumbria despite the fact it's now October, but a lot of them probably come because it's off season, and shouldn't be too crowded. Sounds like our County.

Near the end of the walk/hike/stroll, we came upon Lingholm Estate, which was a summer favorite of Beatrice Potter. We saw Mr. McGregor's garden, stopped to enjoy a cup of tea in Peter Rabbit's tea house, and had a lot of old memories return. I hadn't read the story of Peter for years and years, so found a little book on the shelf, and quickly reminded myself as to why it was such a favorite of mine when I was a wee lad. Good memories.

We capped the day off with a stop at the local Sportsman's Pub for a pint, and called it an evening. Speaking of which, our usual routine after our pub visits is to return to our place, have a wee nip, and settle down for the evening watching British mysteries. We even keep up on the news of the day on occasion. Glad to see that NAFTA is now USMCA, with some pros and cons. Hope Trump continues to receive disturbing news, and that the nominee for Supreme Court goes down. Sad about Indonesia big time.

Today we did the big tour around both Windermere and Coniston waters. This is the main center of the tourist industry, so the villages along the east side of Windermere were loaded with people. We did a nice hike up to the top of Orrest Head, and had a lovely view of the lake and the surrounding countryside. It is truly a beautiful area, with deep valleys, crags and fells disappearing in the clouds, waters nestled in the bottoms of the valleys. The hills are of many shades, green to russet to brown, mostly bare, with stone walls climbing up even the steepest slopes. Sheep everywhere, grazing to their heart's content. All you can think of when you consider the Lake District.

Coniston was home to Ruskin, the artist. It was also the lake where Malcolm Campbell died trying to set a world speed record for watercraft. There were memorial plaques honoring both. Coniston is a lovely little town, one of its neat features being a steam yacht gondola. The 'boat' does cruises for tourists, has the shape of a gondola, complete with figurehead at the prow, and is powered by a steam engine. Quite a creation.

The roads in some areas were so narrow it seems a wonder that we got through without scraping the left side of the car off, or ramming into an oncoming car/lorry/bus. The oncoming vehicles are often just over the center line, and the stone walls and hedgerows on the left seem only inches away as you squeeze over to miss the traffic. And if anyone gets behind you on these roads, they drive with an urgency, pushing you despite your best intention to only go at a speed that feels right. It's a little nerve-wracking, to say the least. But we got through it.

After our long drive today, we stopped at another local pub, and were invited to join a couple sitting enjoying a drink. They were wonderfully friendly, and also so full of knowledge of the area, that they were a treat to spend time with. Their son joined us a little later, and told us of his challenge to do all of Wainright's fells, all 235 of them. These are peaks that were chronicled in amazing detail by a Mr. Wainright, who spent years meticulously detailing all of the information known to man about each of the high spots in Cumbria. It took 7 volumes to do so, one of which we were shown. A most amazing little book it is, full of minute detail, sketches, contour lines, immaculate descriptions of the route to be taken to get to the top of each fell/tor/peak/hill The father, Jeff, has done all of them, and his son has done about 112 of them. Quite a challenge to undertake.

Tomorrow will be our last full day here, as we've decided to go to Glasgow on Friday afternoon in order to avoid a Saturday morning rush to the airport. We'll do a good hike tomorrow, and maybe find a smaller one for Friday morning, then say good-bye to a wonderful time in northern England. It's been a great time. More later. Stay tuned.

Ocr 1 - We're happily in the Lake District, where lakes aren't really lakes. There's only 1 lake, actually, although there are lots of bodies of water that might look like lakes. The thing is, they don't tend to call them lakes around here, they call them 'waters; except for Bassenthwaite Lake, which they call a lake. There are also reservoirs that look like lakes, but they call them 'reservoirs' oddly enough. They could call the district the 'Waters District', or the 'Reservoir District'. But no, they call it the Lake District, because the bodies of water truly look like lakes...even though only one of them is called that. Trust the English!

Today we did a 'water' walk. That is, we drove to a 'water' and took a ferry on the water to a little wee spot called Howtown, where we started a walk along the south shore of Ullswater. The 'water' (lake) is a beauty, surrounded by high hills, that might actually be called mountains in some places, as they're high enough. But they tend to call them hills here. Trust the British!! We walked up and down and all along for nearly 6 miles, and thoroughly enjoyed it. We would normally call it a hike, but one woman who we met on the trail said "yes, it's quite a nice stroll", which we found rather odd, almost offensive,  in view of the ups and downs we were involved with. We call it a good 'walk', or preferably, a 'hike', not a 'stroll'. Really!!! What's in a name, after all. Only the English!

Once we started back to our place after the tour around the 'water',  we came across Air Farca, which is a very pretty waterfall (not a Canadian comedy..remember Air Farce?). Even though we'd walked 6 plus miles up and down and all around the 'water', we struggled out of the car and went down a million steps to find a lovely water fall, which they usually call a 'spout'. It was a fine spout, a double one, actually. Again, what's in a name! Spout? Waterfall? All in the name, I guess. Main thing is the water came down quite prettily. But I don't mean the lake which isn't called a lake, I mean the stuff that comes down over a precipice in a tumbling manner. It's very confusing to holiday in England.

We had done a 5 kilometer walk last evening out of our village, down a quiet road towards a place called  Greystoke. We had seen a sign that said there was a pub there, so decided today to try it out before going home. And what a find it was. The pub is called the Shoe and Boot, going back to 1511, if you can believe it. And most interesting of all, Greystoke rang many bells in my head, but only when we read some of the history they had posted in the pub did we connect the village to the story of Tarzan. He was the long lost son of the Lord of Greystoke, if you recall the Edgar Rice Burroughs saga...23 movies later...and here we were in the village that inspired the story. Most interesting to be in a pub more than 500 years old connected with such a famous story.

By the way, the name of the pub came into being because the Lord of the Manor had gout, so went about the village with a shoe on one foot and a boot on the other. What's in a name! Only the English!

We'll no doubt go back, as the menu looked pretty inviting, and the Guiness/Tennants was very well received. More later. Stay tuned.