Cumbria

 Edinburgh: the final day

There were three jobs to be done on Tuesday. The first was to ensure that Sophie managed to catch the train back to London; the second was to find our car for the next week or so, and the third was to find the sea. Having a car finally made that easy and it was surprising to find how close to Edinburgh it was. It also doesn’t take long (in a car) to find oneself in rural Scotland again. 

The beaches are attractive and the small towns beyond Edinburgh have manmade harbours for yachts and fishing vessels. We were surprised to find, on a walk along one of the beaches, a small group of bikini-clad girls wanting to have a swim. We didn’t think it was that warm….it wasn’t. They walked within three metres of the water’s edge, paddled through a little puddle and one of them said, “Do we really want to do this?” They looked at each other for a second or two and promptly walked back up the beach...it was too cold.

We found “the Best Fish and Chips” store somewhere on our travels and decided this would be the best meal for the evening. We sat and ate them facing the sea as the sun sank lower on the horizon. Back at the flat we packed the last of our stuff and prepared for an early departure the following morning.

On to Cumbria

Next morning, the plan was to follow a rather circuitous route south over the  Moorfoot hills which I had looked up on the internet as “picturesque.” Unfortunately about 20 minutes into the trip I confused my lefts and rights and we ended up going round in a circle but it was actually ok, and soon we were back on track.  We stopped at the San Ling Buddhist Monastry, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, down to Langholme and back onto the A7 . The country roads in the Southern Scotland are gorgeous and as we travelled over the border into the start of the northern Lake District we knew that the next few days in this region were going to be spectacular scenery-wise. We joined the M6  for a while and through Carlisle then down the A592 along the edge of Lake Ullswater. 

Our poor satnav had a bit of a hard time following the route I’d selected and at one point, and I think as some sort of revenge, it led us up the wrong country road, and told us to turn right into a very muddy looking bridle path.   The best solution at this point was in fact to be in tune with our  instincts, so we turned the satnav off and within 20 minutes we found our way to Hallthwaites and our family friends Brian and Kirsty.  We visited them four years ago in Suffolk when Brian was the travelling parish vicar. He’s now retired, and they are able to devote time to their country residence, their garden and their wide variety of interests. Both Brian and Kirsty have been great in helping us plan our daily exploration of the Lake District and activities that we must do whilst here.

Our plan for Thursday was to drive up to Lake Conniston and catch the steam gondola which would take us part way up the Lake. The guide pointed out the island Arthur Randsome used in Swallows and Amazons,  the exploits of father and son Malcolm and Donald Campbell who tried to break a world record in speed boat racing;  and finally, the spot where his boat Bluebird K7 broke a speed record of 328km per hour, flipped his boat and Donald sadly lost his life.

Ruskin's thinking chair

A view from Ruskin'swindow.

The gondola continued around the lake, and pulled up next to the home where art critic of the Victorian era John Ruskin lived until he died. We took a walk around his home and garden which was stunning for its viewpoints.  It was also fascinating re-engaging with his ideas and values through the informative museum. The gondola returned an hour later to take us back to Conniston, and we then headed for Lake Grassmere and the home of William Wordsworth.  Again we took a walk through the house and museum, and learnt something of his life in Grassmere through the help of a very animated guide.

Grassmere also has a very famous gingerbread shop and I lined up with a stream of others anxious to buy the famous biscuits. Once we had eaten something, we headed for the car and took an amazing route home over Rhino’s Pass towards Seathwaite beside the river Duddon where Wordsworth wrote his 59 sonnets. There were warning signs that the road in many places was not more than 6’6 wide with stone walls either side. It was interesting whenever we encountered another vehicle or tractor, or drove through someone’s farm but we got there and it was an unforgettable drive.