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.