Scarfell Pike
I'm composing this in NetNewsWire on Tuesday evening, but won't post until some time Wednesday, having been offline for nearly 2 days - Orange don't seem to have much in the way of coverage in the Lake District. My only contact with the office (during, of course, the one day when I *really needed* to speak to everybody) was a couple of text messages and phone calls this afternoon whilst halfway up Scarfell Pike, and even they were interrupted by patchy coverage.
We left Snowdonia yesterday morning and headed northwards, stopping briefly for tea in a small town near Kendal whose name I have already forgotten. Just after this stop, Dad and David pottered off for a mini-walk in the afternoon and I sat by a lake, watching the ducks, reading, fretting about work and generally tapping away. Then a short drive on to our current B&B, a magnificent old farmhouse in the middle of the countryside dating back to the mid-1600s.
In the evening we drove down to a local pub and met up with my dad's cousin Gill and her husband Jim, who I think I'd only met once before, at my uncle Rogers funeral about 7 years ago (apologies offered and corrections sought, I ought to be more accurate about such things). Over a rather tasty meal we chatted and I caught onto a few nuggets of 30-year-old family gossip (of which there seems to be quite a bit in our family).
Then today, we tackled Scarfell Pike: a lovely spot about half an hours drive from the B&B, which despite the presence of Sellafield nuclear power station on the horizon and the RAF buzzing overhead every couple of hours, is absolutely beautiful. We walked, scrambled, climbed, admired views, paddled in (and drank from) clear mountain streams, and general did the whole outdoorsy enjoyment thang. And now, it's back to the pub for refreshment...
Updated: it's now Wednesday evening and we've arrived at the B&B in Scotland, having spent lunchtime sitting on the shore of Loch Lomond... pics later.