The Lake District part 2
Jun. 8th, 2018 07:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofastolatThe second half of our holiday...
Wednesday
On Wednesday we went to Carlisle, since both Pellinor and I have recently greatly enjoyed the Robert Carey series of historical novels by PF Chisholm (Patricia Finney.) Most of these are set on the Borders in the 1590s, with the main character based in Carlisle Castle.
The day we went was the first day of the castle's hosting of the Weeping Window installation, commemorating losses in the First World War. Admission was free because of this, and they were obviously expecting crowds, with staff (or maybe volunteers) ready to leap out at you at almost every step and marshal you in some direction or other. I felt a bit Philistiney about it, to be honest, having no objection to it at all, but not considering it something worthy of much excitement or a special journey. I found the medieval graffiti in the keep much more interesting, though sadly much less capable of being photographed. So have some poppies instead.
After a wander through the castle and attached regimental museums, we went to Carlisle Museum for a somewhat chilly lunch in the garden, where it was beautifully sunny, but with a surprisingly chill wind.
The museum was an eclectic one, with plenty of Romans, some Border reivers, some stuffed animals arranged prettily in their natural habitats, an enormous whale skeleton, some 19th and 20th century social history, and a particularly interesting display about a fairly recently excavated set of Viking graves.
They had several cute little Romano-British gods. There was a Special Name for these, especially for the little ones that came in sets of three, but can I find it now? Began with C, I think. Or maybe some other letter. Some letter of the alphabet, anyway.
This one SO needs to be made into a salt and pepper set and sold in the museum. I'd buy it.
I've no idea who this chap is or where I found him, but I like him.
Looking down into the foyer from above, I was amazed to discover a hitherto unknown truth about the transport methods of the Border reivers. No wonder they were feared!
How different would things have been had the young Arthur encountered similar technical problems!
Leaving the museum, we wandered through the town a little in quest of an ice-cream, but gave up in disarray after noticing that even the local houses were glowering at us.
In the evening, we went to another of Braithwaite's pubs, for another nice dinner and rather too much to drink.
Thursday
This was by far the hottest and sunniest day of the week - although I overheard someone saying that they had come over that day from Whitley Bay on the east coast, and it was misty and freezing cold there. We headed first to Hill Top, Beatrix Potter's little house, which was - as apparently it usually is - teeming with Japanese tourists. I have to confess that my memories of her books are rather distant ones, but they had lots of the books out on various windowsills and tables, allowing visitors to see all the real places that she put into her books.
Then we popped to the hotel next door for lunch on a terrace that was basking in the summer heat, with nice views across the gardens to the hills beyond. Apart from the glorious weather, lunch was dominated by playing the "what did we just eat?" game. (Conclusion, many hours later, after asking the internet: caper berries.)
After lunch, we headed to Coniston, where like the Swallows and Amazons, we climbed Kanchenjunga (aka Coniston Old Man.) We'd both climbed this as children, so although other mountains were available nearer to our cottage, we both wanted to do the Old Man for old times' sake. It was a steep haul on the road out of the village, but a fairly untaxing climb from then on, although it was verging on Too Hot for mountain climbing. Various old mine workings littered the route, with scenic ruins - but the mountain didn't seem too happy about such things, or, indeed, about anything.
Half way up, we paused by a tarn, where there were newts. Presumably LOADS of newts, since our small small patch of water near the shore contained at least 10 visible ones, all in pairs. I like newts. :-D
We took another route down, past another tarn.
Here you can see a traditional walker engaged in the traditional walking custom: taking advantage of a brief moment of signal to satisfy a sudden burning desire to find out everything about the geology of the walk.
Back in Coniston, we walked to the lake for an ice cream, a tea shop, and a brief wander.
Then back to home territory, pausing in Braithwaite for another dose of the lovely sharing platter, although without the main course this time, thanks to having eaten too much ice cream and cake post-Kanchenjunga.
Friday
Friday's forecast promised a little light rain - the first rain of the week - from the early afternoon. We headed to Grasmere, where we parked about a mile out of the village, then walked in for a particularly good cup of tea. Pellinor was expressing doubt about the existence of an actual Grasmere in Grasmere, so I took him off in search of it, and then on a walk all around it. It was a very popular walk, enlivened by pushy ducks, swimming dogs, and several separate glimpsed installments of a mini adventure involving the finding of a lost phone beside the path. Then back to Grasmere for a very nice lunch, followed by a visit to Dove Cottage, Wordsworth's house, where everyone else in our small tour party seemed to be very keen and earnest Wordsworth fans, and many people in the museum seemed to be American.
It started to rain after that, although not too heavily. Heading back to Keswick, we visited The Puzzling Place in Keswick, full of optical illusion. There was one set of rooms where the floor was on a steep slope, but the walls had been built to fool the mind into thinking it was flat. Therefore you could pose standing on a ladder, apparently leaning out at 45 degrees, or watch things apparently rolling up hill. I just could not cope with it! There was a warning that it might make people feel strange, and it did indeed make me a little queasy, but the really strange thing was how I simply could not remove myself from the wall at the bottom. Pellinor had to virtually prise me off it, and as soon as he let go, I slapped back onto it, as if pulled by a very strong magnet. Odd.
After that, we had an early dinner in a pub, then went to the Theatre by the Lake for a Jeeves and Wooster play, with all the parts played by 3 actors. It must be years since I went to the theatre.
No pictures today, it seems, probably due to the gathering gloom.
Saturday
After packing up and departing, we went to Brougham Castle near Penrith.
Then to Birdoswald fort, on Hadrian's Wall. This was right next to the long-distance path, and the cafe was heaving with walkers. I was quite envious, and wanted to be one of them, rather than a sandal-wearing tourist who had got there by car. I do want to walk the whole Wall some time - although I'll probably do the Ridgeway first, as a nearer-to-home way to experiment with the whole concept of a long-distance walk involving B&Bs, rather than, as with the Isle of Wight Coastal path, one with the luxury of a short bus trip home every day.
It being half term and a Bank Holiday weekend, there were real live Romans on site.
Then we went to Chesters Roman fort - a cavalry fort with a beautifully old-fashioned museum, opened in 1896, and still largely using its original display cabinets. Although nicely old-fashioned in its presentation, it had some good uses of modern technology - nicely covered Kindles with additional information about the exhibits, and a fun children's activity in which you picked up a votive lamp, chose three of the god statues in the museum to make an offering to, then reported back to Juno for an oracle based on your choice.
From there we headed to Whitley Bay for a fleeting visit to Pellinor's parents, leaving on Sunday morning for the long journey home.
Wednesday
On Wednesday we went to Carlisle, since both Pellinor and I have recently greatly enjoyed the Robert Carey series of historical novels by PF Chisholm (Patricia Finney.) Most of these are set on the Borders in the 1590s, with the main character based in Carlisle Castle.
The day we went was the first day of the castle's hosting of the Weeping Window installation, commemorating losses in the First World War. Admission was free because of this, and they were obviously expecting crowds, with staff (or maybe volunteers) ready to leap out at you at almost every step and marshal you in some direction or other. I felt a bit Philistiney about it, to be honest, having no objection to it at all, but not considering it something worthy of much excitement or a special journey. I found the medieval graffiti in the keep much more interesting, though sadly much less capable of being photographed. So have some poppies instead.
After a wander through the castle and attached regimental museums, we went to Carlisle Museum for a somewhat chilly lunch in the garden, where it was beautifully sunny, but with a surprisingly chill wind.
The museum was an eclectic one, with plenty of Romans, some Border reivers, some stuffed animals arranged prettily in their natural habitats, an enormous whale skeleton, some 19th and 20th century social history, and a particularly interesting display about a fairly recently excavated set of Viking graves.
They had several cute little Romano-British gods. There was a Special Name for these, especially for the little ones that came in sets of three, but can I find it now? Began with C, I think. Or maybe some other letter. Some letter of the alphabet, anyway.
This one SO needs to be made into a salt and pepper set and sold in the museum. I'd buy it.
I've no idea who this chap is or where I found him, but I like him.
Looking down into the foyer from above, I was amazed to discover a hitherto unknown truth about the transport methods of the Border reivers. No wonder they were feared!
How different would things have been had the young Arthur encountered similar technical problems!
Leaving the museum, we wandered through the town a little in quest of an ice-cream, but gave up in disarray after noticing that even the local houses were glowering at us.
In the evening, we went to another of Braithwaite's pubs, for another nice dinner and rather too much to drink.
Thursday
This was by far the hottest and sunniest day of the week - although I overheard someone saying that they had come over that day from Whitley Bay on the east coast, and it was misty and freezing cold there. We headed first to Hill Top, Beatrix Potter's little house, which was - as apparently it usually is - teeming with Japanese tourists. I have to confess that my memories of her books are rather distant ones, but they had lots of the books out on various windowsills and tables, allowing visitors to see all the real places that she put into her books.
Then we popped to the hotel next door for lunch on a terrace that was basking in the summer heat, with nice views across the gardens to the hills beyond. Apart from the glorious weather, lunch was dominated by playing the "what did we just eat?" game. (Conclusion, many hours later, after asking the internet: caper berries.)
After lunch, we headed to Coniston, where like the Swallows and Amazons, we climbed Kanchenjunga (aka Coniston Old Man.) We'd both climbed this as children, so although other mountains were available nearer to our cottage, we both wanted to do the Old Man for old times' sake. It was a steep haul on the road out of the village, but a fairly untaxing climb from then on, although it was verging on Too Hot for mountain climbing. Various old mine workings littered the route, with scenic ruins - but the mountain didn't seem too happy about such things, or, indeed, about anything.
Half way up, we paused by a tarn, where there were newts. Presumably LOADS of newts, since our small small patch of water near the shore contained at least 10 visible ones, all in pairs. I like newts. :-D
We took another route down, past another tarn.
Here you can see a traditional walker engaged in the traditional walking custom: taking advantage of a brief moment of signal to satisfy a sudden burning desire to find out everything about the geology of the walk.
Back in Coniston, we walked to the lake for an ice cream, a tea shop, and a brief wander.
Then back to home territory, pausing in Braithwaite for another dose of the lovely sharing platter, although without the main course this time, thanks to having eaten too much ice cream and cake post-Kanchenjunga.
Friday
Friday's forecast promised a little light rain - the first rain of the week - from the early afternoon. We headed to Grasmere, where we parked about a mile out of the village, then walked in for a particularly good cup of tea. Pellinor was expressing doubt about the existence of an actual Grasmere in Grasmere, so I took him off in search of it, and then on a walk all around it. It was a very popular walk, enlivened by pushy ducks, swimming dogs, and several separate glimpsed installments of a mini adventure involving the finding of a lost phone beside the path. Then back to Grasmere for a very nice lunch, followed by a visit to Dove Cottage, Wordsworth's house, where everyone else in our small tour party seemed to be very keen and earnest Wordsworth fans, and many people in the museum seemed to be American.
It started to rain after that, although not too heavily. Heading back to Keswick, we visited The Puzzling Place in Keswick, full of optical illusion. There was one set of rooms where the floor was on a steep slope, but the walls had been built to fool the mind into thinking it was flat. Therefore you could pose standing on a ladder, apparently leaning out at 45 degrees, or watch things apparently rolling up hill. I just could not cope with it! There was a warning that it might make people feel strange, and it did indeed make me a little queasy, but the really strange thing was how I simply could not remove myself from the wall at the bottom. Pellinor had to virtually prise me off it, and as soon as he let go, I slapped back onto it, as if pulled by a very strong magnet. Odd.
After that, we had an early dinner in a pub, then went to the Theatre by the Lake for a Jeeves and Wooster play, with all the parts played by 3 actors. It must be years since I went to the theatre.
No pictures today, it seems, probably due to the gathering gloom.
Saturday
After packing up and departing, we went to Brougham Castle near Penrith.
Then to Birdoswald fort, on Hadrian's Wall. This was right next to the long-distance path, and the cafe was heaving with walkers. I was quite envious, and wanted to be one of them, rather than a sandal-wearing tourist who had got there by car. I do want to walk the whole Wall some time - although I'll probably do the Ridgeway first, as a nearer-to-home way to experiment with the whole concept of a long-distance walk involving B&Bs, rather than, as with the Isle of Wight Coastal path, one with the luxury of a short bus trip home every day.
It being half term and a Bank Holiday weekend, there were real live Romans on site.
Then we went to Chesters Roman fort - a cavalry fort with a beautifully old-fashioned museum, opened in 1896, and still largely using its original display cabinets. Although nicely old-fashioned in its presentation, it had some good uses of modern technology - nicely covered Kindles with additional information about the exhibits, and a fun children's activity in which you picked up a votive lamp, chose three of the god statues in the museum to make an offering to, then reported back to Juno for an oracle based on your choice.
From there we headed to Whitley Bay for a fleeting visit to Pellinor's parents, leaving on Sunday morning for the long journey home.
