July 12, Caldbeck to Carlisle

 Today began with a crisis. When I tried to leave the pub, the key to the exit door would not turn in the lock.  Now to backtrack.  I had asked, when I checked in, if there was anything I needed to know about how the lock worked—I ALWAYS ask this—and the kid who was showing me to my room said there was not and that furthermore, there would be someone on the premises at 5:00 a.m. (about which I was quite dubious) so that the regular door would be open.  A sixteen mile day lay ahead and I was locked inside the Oddfellows Arms.  I phoned, no answer, of course, nor do they have an emergency contact number.  There wasn't even a window you could break in order to get out.  I called 999, spoke to the police who told me to speak to the fire people, none of whom could help.  I was enraged and actually terrified at being locked in.  After about the fifth try, the key turned in the lock and then you  have to know to turn the door handle down because that is a British thing.  This took about 20 minutes.  Was I ever glad to get out of there.

The walk was not difficult—a couple of small navigational errors, easily corrected—but it was pretty dull, especially near the end when you have to walk miles on a bike path.  Deadly.  Let's put it this way, I don't think there was a single bench on the entire route

Notice the absence of mountains:

Vegetation like this:

But wow!  Take a look at this iv(or)y tower!

It was a sleepy sort of day:

But theses guys were not wasting any time:

Why the long face, horsie?

"Well, since you won't give me anything, I guess I will just have to fend for myself:"

Sheep wool hanging out to dry

Look to the left and you see barley, lots and lots of barley:

Look to the right, and you see this:

Can you see who is hiding in the woods?

Teasel:

 Thistle

Apparently they come from entirely different families. Had it not been for a woman we (Alex and Alex and I) met last year who had a gorgeous metal railing with  a teasel motif, I would have spent the  rest of my life thinking that teasel was a British way of pronouncing thistle!  There is so much to learn!

This photo was taken on the 13th, but fits so well with the thistle and the teasel!  It is a blue globe thistle

Approaching Carlisle, I encountered an  (old) woman in a wheelchair, walking her dog....she wasn't walking but the dog was, but you can't say rolling her dog.  Anyway, she asked me if I were a fisherwoman!  "No," I told her.  "Well what are you dressed up as?" "A hiker."  She asked me where I was going, so I asked her where she was going. "To the cemetery," she said.  "It is very pretty there."

I don't think it was this one, though:

Carlisle is a surprisingly attractive, small  city....well, at least the part I have seen.  Tomorrow will be a day of exploration and sightseeing.