July 06, Coniston to Great Langdale

At 5:03 I was out the door, dressed in rain gear—not because it was raining (it wasn't) but it was supposed to rain, so why not use the rain jacket as a "layer?"  Not only did it NOT rain for the first time in days, the weather was gorgeous, the scenery was spectacular, and the elevation, about which I had worried quite a bit, was manageable, most likely because the air quality was really good!  Anyway, it was an exquisite, spectacular stage in every respect.

I have deleted a lot of photos of the scenery because they just don't make the cut!

But here are a couple:

AND view from bench where mid morning, that being 9:00 a.m, snack was consumed and enjoyed:

(Or should that be enjoyed and consumed?  Kind of like,"You can't have your cake and eat it, too, which really works better if you say, "You can't eat your cake and have it, too."  Or maybe it does not make a difference!)

Three new friends.  

Stripe-ee:

Brown-ee:

Snuff-ee: 

I am sure his mama loves him very much!

My style of stile (side a):

Yes, they should all be like this! (side b):

High end bridge:

Tree...roots?

There were several groups of high school kids doing the Duke Of Edinburgh Challenge, which is a scouting sort of thing that has several levels.  This one involves something like 5 days of backpacking.

Jolly good!!

AND they navigate using MAPS, would you believe?

Officially, one was supposed to stay on the road:

But I took a gamble on the narrow track.  It paid off!  But you never know with these things.  There could be a locked gate at the other end, only there wasn't.  Then, about a mile or so from the hotel, I chose the low road through pastures instead of the high (official) road.  The app kept yelling at me, "You are 150 feet away from the route.  You are 200 feet away from the route........" but sometimes you just have to assert your independence.  Since I arrived around noon, I had plenty of time to take another walk, so I went back to the turn off and did the official high route back to the Old Dungeon Inn.  I am so glad I did! In addition to the enjoyment, it allowed to to figure out where to start tomorrow.

The hotel is simple, the room is small, but it is bright, clean, has a window that opens as much as you want, a place to put everything, and most important, a nice hotel employee, carried my suitcase up the three flights of stairs to my room and promised to do the reverse to-morrow after I left. 

July 05 Coniston and Brantwood

 In an effort to maximize enjoyment and ease the effort, I may have overdone it with the "circular walk" add-ons.  Today, for example, since I did not want to do the classic Coniston climb, I opted for an out and back along the lake.  It was fine. When I got to the turn around point, I was just getting to the best part and was tempted to walk all the way back to Lowick, so I checked the bus schedule to see if I could get back to Coniston, and, had it not been Sunday, I could have done just that, but today IS Sunday, which, it seems, is the busman's holiday.  So that was that. 

I turned around and a couple of hours later, as I was nearing Coniston, I realized I could toodle on over the pier whence the ferry goes to Brantwood.  I approached the guy in the ticket booth. Waving his hand, he said, "Speak to those chaps over there."  Over I went and spoke to "those chaps."  "Well, there isn't a direct run today; you will have to circe the entire lake and we will drop you off on the way back." "How long does that take?" About 45 minutes to an hour."  "And when does the next boat leave?"  "About two minutes ago!" Their being late was my good fortune, so I paid the ferry man, and went for the ride (thank God, not to Hades), disembarking at Brantwood, the home of John Ruskin for the last twenty or so years of his life.  Truth be told, and I don't know why, I am just not interested in Ruskin though he did have the saddest love life ever, but in case you crave to know more about the man just clink on that link and you will have all the references anyone would want.

First, though, the grey, drizzly morning.

The rain is why they have such delicious grass:

Boats waiting:

Perfect spot for a 9:00 a.m. pick-me-up:

Except no sooner did I sit down than it started to rain....again.

You look that way, and we'll look this way:

OK, it's safe!

When I reached the A325 or whichever A road it was, it was time to turn around:

toward Coniston, and then on to the Brantwood segment,

After embarking, the tour around the lake narrated by the dude who ties and unties the boat at each pier and whose narration was one loud incomprehensible blur, and disembarking at Brantwood, it was time to visit the loo.

I can say with full confidence that Brantwood offers facilities superior to those of the woods:

The house was lovely.  It really felt like a home, had beautiful views, attractive wall papers, handsome rugs....yet was not overdone, but since it is now a museum of sorts, not all the rooms were fully furnished.  Yet it was easy to imagine people living in the house.

There was a grand piano, which, if you get permission ahead of time, you are invited to play:

That would make Alex Allain's day!

Bible with jewel encrusted cover:

Ruskin had an extensive mineral collection:

Needlepoint:

There was some exquisite embroidery, too. Those pieces and the views did not photograph well, so you will just have to take my word!

Most of the gardens were extensive woodlands on slippery paths, but there were some flowers:

A place to sit:

It seems that a lot of people come to the property—you can drive there, too, and you can walk, but it is an awful walk on major roadways an hour in each direction—to have lunch and enjoy the scenery.  The cafe is first rate!  I had a bowl of carrot soup, which was not only well seasoned, but was served hot!

Critters—not at Brantwood, which is too refined for such gluttony, eating a plenty due to their being fed by a passerby:

I will not be sorry to leave Coniston.  The town and the Inn are a bit dreary, although the room I am in has a decent shower and a frig, but the wi-fi keeps going out, the bed and pillows are not comfy. There is nothing at all pleasant about the accommodation.  Utterly cheerless sums it up pretty well!  But wait!  There is a heated towel bar in the bathroom that works (socks dried in a jiffy), so I guess the place is worth the price. (It was a big price!)

Addendum:  Remember the other day I mentioned Cohens Pharmacy and thought Mr. Cohen was a Jew from Ulverston?  Well, no!  The concern is owned by two Muslim brothers from Kenya, who own  more than 200 pharmacies—or chemists— in the UK, all named Cohens!!  My head is spinning! I simply have to give a listen to  Minyan Man 

July 04, Coniston walk

There is nothing like having to make a choice about how to flush the toilet!  I really get a kick out of this instruction.  Whether to obey or not to obey is a whole other matter.

 

There are lots of walks around Coniston, but about 90% of them are entered around a rock formation called "The Old Man of Coniston;" the routes just vary in terms of length.  All involve a long, steep, rocky climb, and I just didn't feel like it in the rain.  Actually, I didn't feel like it even had it not been raining.  Rocks are not my favorite kind of scenery.  Anyway, I found a lovely walk that was a figure eight kind of thing that passed through beautiful countryside..

This photo requires some contemplation and consideration.  We see, on the left,  a baby slug—or a snail minus its shell (but isn't that what a slug is?) cozied up on a foxglove petal, lying next to what seems to be a giant slug but is—I am quite sure—a big stick that looks like a giant slug.  So I am wondering, what is that baby thinking?

As I approached these two beasties, seeing as they did not move, I thought, "Maybe they are not real," like that cat from the other day:

But they were!

It rained, then it didn't then it did, but not very hard, and it blew, and it was misty and foggy:

And yet the air was very heavy.

One problem with rain is that it makes sticks and stones very slippery.  Por ejemplo, tree roots, such as these, especially on the downhill,  require extremely careful footwork.

The top part of the figure 8 was a tour around a lake:

Ahh, this is the life if you are a goose:

Tree down!  Detour required!

The thing is, they don't WANT to be on the path...do they?

I met this merry band of revelers as I was headed down and they were going up!  Were they enacting A Midsummer Night's Dream?  Was this the local version of Bay to Breakers?  They were celebrating the upcoming wedding of the guy dressed as a donkey (he asked to have his head patted) and having a rollicking good time!

After getting back to town and making the rounds of the three, yes, three grocers—the Spar has competition—all of which sell just about the same stuff, all replicas of 7-Elevens, and within about a block of each other, and then having something to eat, I went out for another walk, this time along the lake.  

It was 60 degrees and a girl was swimming!  The water was also about 60 degrees!  (I looked it up!)  That is crazy!

Just for the record, according to my Apple watch, I am hardly doing anything these days! What?  It does not measure exertion, or if it does, then I am being cheated.  You schlep around all day in heavy hiking boots, up and down hills, skirting tree roots and nasty rocks, mud and bog, thick wet grass, in 90% humidity (I looked that up, too) and see if you feel as if you did nothing all day!

July 03, Lowick to Coniston

 How/why people walk from Ulverston to Coniston in one day, I do not understand.  Several issues: distance, just shy of 20 miles, terrain: slow going through the boggy areas and rocky paths, and honestly, a waste because the second part, from Lowick to Coniston is just so beautiful (except for the last few miles, which are so utterly boring along a road you could cry and I did not think to listen to my audiobook) that it would not be possible to enjoy it as the second part of such a long stretch.  Also, there is much elevation gain and loss.  Of course, one issue is that there is only one place to stay in Lowick, that being the Red Lion, which offers a total of three rooms.  I was speaking about this to a woman who works here at The Crown Inn, who told me that walkers roll in at around 7:00-8:00 p.m. I, having booked a taxi to Lowick at 5:30 a.m., rolled in at about 1:00, and, after a ginger beer that cost $4.79, hit the Spar at the back of the service station where I bought my first can of tuna of the trip.  They even had lettuce.  And my room has a frig, so I don't have to throw out the mayonnaise after one use.  The things you have to think about are so many!

Up and over:

Somehow I feel that that photo shows up everyday!  But if so, it does make a point!

A view:

Approaching a farm:

Foxglove in front of mossy rock:

I am hoping those peaks are not on the route:

Looking at the countryside is one thing, being in it, entirely another!

Not Coniston Water (as Lake Coniston is called):

One area was moor land, always a challenge because there is no path.  You sort of have to know the general direction you are headed and hope, as you make your way through the spongy wet,  it will match up to the blue line on the app on your phone!  Here is a tiny section of bog for those of you who think that bog is a British term for mud.  It is not! It can swallow you whole!

You know what?  I think I saw a movie in which a boy does get sucked into a bog and, ummm, yeah, he doesn't get out.

This is the kind of stony walking that Susie Grimes DOES NOT LIKE!

If you are 20 or a mountain goat, stream crossings like this do not bother you. (This one was way scarier than yesterday's)  I am neither and they terrify me, not for fear of being swept away, but of slipping into the water and having to walk with an ice cold sock and boot for three more hours.  But I succeeded:

Then there was another, even worse—the water was flowing faster— a little while later.  Oh, God!  How many will there be? Shortly after the second stream crossing, I heard not the gurgle of a mountain brook, but the roaring of major water.  Many expletives were uttered.  But, hey.....

Ecce, pons!

Had there not been, I would have turned back.

First glimpse of Coniston Water:

Someone made a wee cairn.  Note kayakers in the background:

Man, does that freshly cut grass smell divine!

In fact, in addition to the bird sounds and the water sounds, the smells of the greenery and flowers are just so lovely.

Coniston is a hub, of sorts, in other words it has a bus stop, for people who want to walk hither and yon in the Lake district. This is for people who start out at about 9:30 or 10:00 a.m. In terms of facilities: a few inns and a coffee shop, and that Spar in the back of the gas station.  There is an attraction:  the house and garden of John Ruskin, which I plan on seeing tomorrow....after a walk!