Monday was a touring day of the southern portion of our Yorkshire Dales location. After our toast, jam and coffee breakfast, we completed a load of laundry in the provided washer and dryer, folded the clean clothes, emptied the dishwasher, and loaded up the vehicle with our normal rain jackets, although the weather was sunny and predicted for a high of 70ยบ F. Predictions turned out to be correct - a gorgeous day in North Yorkshire. Our first foray was to try a small road out of our village that, at first glance, appeared to loop around a few blocks. Wrong! We followed this narrow and winding track for a couple of miles. At one point coming around the brow of a hill into a hard turn around a barn, nearly colliding head on with a pick-up truck towing a trailer. We backed up a few yards to the turn-in to the barnyard and allowed the truck to pass with a friendly wave. Just normal protocol in this area on these one lane roads.
Other encounters included following a local hay load being moved from one town to another. It is very hard to pass such a vehicle on these small roads when you can’t see over or around it. One just needs to wait until the farmer decides he has reached the appropriate turn-off.
We ended up a few miles down the road from where we started and were forced to drive back along the highway to our cottage in order to replot our route. We started out again, and made the turnoff a mile past where we had last hit the highway and started up over the moors to the village of Askrigg. The one lane road was winding and very steep. At one point we came to the brow of a hill that was so steep, we were unsure there was a road under us as we crested the hill. More scary than a roller-coaster. At least with a roller coaster you are on rails and you know the car will follow the path designated. Reaching Askrigg village, we then headed east and south towards Aysgarth Falls. We parked at this National Park attraction car park, lifting our hiking staffs out of the car trunk for the first time. We had purchased two pair of these collapsible staffs from the National Trust on a previous trip to England. Our choice of a suitcase for this trip was predicated on our being able to pack the staffs, disassembled, into the luggage as we knew we might need them. We then began the walks to the three various viewing areas of the falls.
The shortest walk was to the Upper Falls, nearest the car park. Stunning scenery and walk along the highway and through a short wooded glen. This opened out onto a large lawn studded with picnickers and families sitting around enjoying the sunshine and looking at the falls. As this wasn’t too strenuous, we decided to next trek to the Middle falls location, just another half mile in the other direction; this too was beautiful as we descended from the path along some steps and onto the viewing platform. A gracious young man offered to take our photo, and he climbed the steps. A quick thought that we might not see Deb’s phone again, but he turned around, made the shot from above us, and returned the phone. A glorious photo of us with the falls in the background.
Next we undertook the longest walk to the Lower Falls, the most spectacular. This too was an easy walk and then a trek back along the river bank to the falls location. We managed a few photos here and then trekked back to the car park and visitor center for a bathroom break and an obligatory stop for a soft serve ice cream cone. The ice cream received a score of about 7.5 on the taste scale we are beginning to devise.
The time was slipping away; we loaded into our vehicle and began the trek back with a stop in Reeth to see about an ATM, We found a machine, but only accepted English Bank cards. We will have to keep a lookout in Richmond or Leyburn for a bigger bank ATM in order to pick up some English currency as we have fairly depleted our supply.
Home again to cook the hamburgers topped with sharp aged cheddar cheese. We had picked up a few onions to put on top with Coleman mustard and some Yorkshire Chutney instead of pickles. We have been unable to find cucumber pickles yet in any store. Note that cheddar cheese in England is white - yellow is an American affectation.
Tuesday we were up and doing a bit of housekeeping. Another toast and jam morning meal and then loaded our purple travel bags into the car for a two night stay in The Lake District at a small hotel in Windermere, on Windermere Lake, one of the largest lakes in the Lake District. We motored west along the moors, towards the town of Kendal at the eastern edge of the Lake District National Park, a mountainous region in the northwest of England, near the border with Scotland. Kendal is a larger city of the region and, owing to summertime, there seems to be a lot of road construction taking place. Add to this the fact that August is summer break for school children and the summer tourists were out in force. Although we intended to head north out of Kendal, we were forced to actually drive south to catch the M6 to head back north towards Penrith, an even larger urban area. We then hopped on the more scenic A593 and followed it south along Ullswater Lake, through Patterdale, and over the Kirkstone Pass, and elevation of nearly 1,500 feet. Back down through Ambleside and on into Windermere, the village, which lies along the eastern shore of Lake Windermere.
The mountain scenery is terrific. These mountains are not the young peaks of the Rockies, but the weathered peaks of a once high range. Geologists think that these mountains were once as high as the Himalayas. The terrain is rocky, covered with gorse and heather. Excellent for raising sheep, goats and cattle of certain breeds. Due to the large number of glacier formed lakes in the area, it is also a tremendous tourist draw and the month of August, with this year’s record warm weather bringing them out in droves. It is impossible to find a parking spot along the highways and turnouts. Everyone is walking, hiking, boating or camping. All the small hotels are booked solid and restaurants are not taking reservations, only accepting walk-ins! We wound are way into Windermere, and, after circling the block three different times, we finally moved a block south and found our hotel, The Woodlands, for the next few nights. Luckily, the young lobby attendant, Jesus, grabbed our bags and quickly hauled them up to the aerie on the third floor that was to be our home for the next few days.
After a long day of driving, we stretched our legs with a walk and found the Beresford Pub only a few blocks away where we enjoyed a meal of prawns in a creme sauce, accompanied by nice crisp dinner rolls and a roast skinless chicken breast covered in a brown mushroom gravy. All washed down with some Shiraz and a Guiness. We walked back happy and sated; climbed the three flights to our room and fell into bed.
Wednesday morning we were down to breakfast in the light filled dining room by 8:30. We both enjoyed a full English breakfast, less the baked beans and blood pudding for Deb, together with coffee and orange juice. Most filling and the eggs were perfectly prepared. We headed out for our drive today and our intended destination of the town of Cockermouth (the jokes are just too obvious!) to visit the childhood home of William Wordsworth and his sister Dorothy. Cockermouth is a relatively small town, but very lively. The Wordsworth Home is right on the Main Street and is a owned and maintained by The National Trust.
We spent almost two hours touring the home and the spectacular garden behind the home. In the home, the rooms were furnished as they were in Wordsworth’s time.
In the kitchen, a young woman in period costume explained all the paraphernalia and foodstuffs that were common in the time period. She pointed out the different herbs used throughout the kitchen, how the bread was baked, and how the automated spit for roasting was turned by a fan insides the chimney, light the fire and the heated smoke rising caused the fan blades to turn and the gears to drive the spit in the hearth.
We walked the streets of Cockermouth for a bit then took off back south through the dells and valleys of the Lake District back towards Windermere. Deb had a route all picked out that would take them around Derwentwater, a place she wanted to see for some reason, but a wrong turn was taken and we missed it! Some harsh words were said. But again wonderful scenery to the rescue. We just had to look past the congestion of tourists. Every time we saw a place that looked like fun or that might be a nice place for a tea or a photo-op, there was no parking to be found. Finally, arriving back at Windermere, we walked a bit and, around the block from our hotel discovered a neighborhood pub, The Brookside, located along a stream that eventually emptied into the lake, right through the town and totally hidden. As usual, we are starving….wasting away, we are.
