We had three weeks to plan and book a holiday when Netti was given the second week of July as annual leave. By then Lils would have completed her course and sat her GCSEs and Paul and I are free to do as we please; chickens not withstanding. Fortunately Suzy would be back from their little jaunt to take over that chore for the week. Harry requested that we return to the Lake District, again! I don’t know why he likes the area so much, he can’t abide walking at the best of times. At first we looked at our favourite campsites but the one we would really have liked to return to; where Netti, Bozzie, Jim and the kids were camped by the river; was under new management and now didn’t take tents. I know we have a list of other sites we have enjoyed staying on but thoughts of having another holiday cut short due to bad weather; memories of having to pack up hurriedly in the midst of a howling gale and lashing rain are still fresh in my mind; and an unreliable camper van, made me slightly jittery about a camping holiday in The Lakes, which are notorious for foul weather. Thanks to my sister, over the last three years I have discovered the joys of holidaying in cottages and B&Bs rather than under canvas so I mooted the idea to the others. Harry and Lils were all for it, I think last year on Shell Island has put them off for life, but Netti took a bit of convincing. As we have the dogs I looked on a pet friendly cottage letting site, found what looked to be a nice property with availability for the week we wanted and booked it. Through the intervening three weeks Paul and Netti must have scoured the review sites and started quoting all the bad reviews, such as “it’s not dog friendly as you have to keep your pet in the kitchen”, “the garden isn’t very secure”, “there are no board games” and “there is no radio/CD player”. I was beginning to think we had made a huge mistake and we’re going to be thoroughly miserable all week. As the holiday got closer Paul, as usual, began to witter about getting everything in the car: five adult sized people, Joey, two large dogs and all our luggage.
“You won’t be able to take much” he admonished as he took to t’internetweb in search of a bigger car or a roof box; neither of which materialised. In the end we used both cars.
Meanwhile I had worked out a more direct route the the one all the mapping apps and sat navs gave me. What a frustration that was, trying to get Google Maps and Garmin to accept my route over theirs. And why oh why can’t you input road numbers? You have to put in an actual address or town and then when you bypass that checkpoint all the bloody thing does is try to reroute you back to that checkpoint before it will follow the rest of the route. Absolutely bonkers! They are obviously not for independently planning a trip. I am definitely going to buy myself a road atlas. Fortunately I had programmed the route in so many times I knew it off by heart.
The Friday of our departure arrived and as is our norm we had our usual ups and downs setting off; no one had thought to fasten Alfie down so we had to stop and sort him out, the phone holder lost it’s suction and fell off the windscreen and Apple Maps wouldn’t give any bloody directions so we ditched that and switched to the sat nav; which did re-calculate it’s route to keep up with mine until it died on us just outside Keighley. Luckily by then we were on the last leg of our journey and managed to get Google Maps to pick up our route for the final few miles to our destination. What with rubbish navigation gadgets, a 10 mile traffic jam on the M62 and the police closing the A58 so we had to take a detour, expertly navigated by Netti, to get to Halifax our three hour journey turned into four. I do prefer motorway free routes these days, so much less stressful.
I seem to have a knack of picking places at the ends of narrow lanes but this one wasn’t quite as long as the last one and at least it wasn’t snowing! In fact, it was glorious sunshine at ten to six that evening as we pulled onto the drive and piled out of the the car. Paul and Harry, who set off well after us as they had to take Suzy’s dog Ivy home after her short sojourn with us, arrived about half an hour later. The cottage was light and airy with a spacious kitchen/diner/parlour set up I’d love to have. The large sitting room had enough comfy seating for all of us, although, as we spent most of our time in the kitchen, it was used more by the kids as a games/VR room. Outside there was a huge garden with an orchard at one end where Joey managed to get one of his shoes stuck at the top of an apple tree. Apparently he was trying to retrieve the frisbee. Our first impressions were good although Paul and Netti spent the evening highlighting all the little niggles.
The following day was a dull but warm day and I was up and sitting outside with a cup of coffee at 6.30! And by 10.30 Netti, Lils and I had headed off to find the Morrisons in Kendal where Lils made friends with Noddy.
We spent the rest of the day round the cottage and playing with the dogs in the garden. The kids had discovered a stash of board games in the sitting room so we spent that evening sound the table playing a four hour marathon game of Monopoly. Lils was quite the property tycoon whilst Joey had a nice line in money lending and brokering. Quite entrepreneurial really. Thank goodness it’s only a game!
I woke up Sunday morning to the sun glinting through the curtains. We had a more leisurely start to the day sitting outside with our morning coffee watching the dogs play round the garden. Until Iris discovered she could jump over the boundary wall and Netti had to give chase! Joey had warned us that he thought the wall was too low to keep her in when he first saw the promotional photos of the property and now he had been proved right. Oh the quandary of whether to tell him or not. Paul solved that one by telling him the minute he came downstairs.
Whilst we were waiting for Lils and Harry to emerge for brunch Netti, contrary to her idea of just lazing around drinking copious amounts of rum all day, decided she would like to get them off their tech and out of the house for the day. Since I have discovered that my National Trust card is still valid we decided on Sizergh Castle which was only a few miles away. We enjoyed going round the house and strolling round the gardens in the, sometimes too hot, sunshine.
With a cold, biting wind and piercing rain Monday was dismal and no one wanted to get out of bed. Paul and I eventually decided to go to Grange Over Sands to pick up a few bits and bobs we’d forgotten on Saturday. What a dismal place. With half the shops closed we had the choice of two pathetic not-so-supermarkets. After shopping we thought we ought to see what makes this such a popular destination. Nothing as it turns out. The “Promenade” is grim, a long stretch of grey tarmac with the railway on one side and a marsh on the other. It did have a cafe at either end and some really disgusting toilets that even Paul wouldn’t use again. And they cost 30p! Hardly what I’d call a holiday destination.
The weather had improved slightly by Tuesday morning and we had thought of going for a forest walk. However we ended up at Brantwood, the home of John Ruskin, which has some lovely gardens. Not as formal a s Sizergh but way more fun. Netti, the boys and myself had a whale of a time playing hide and seek round the winding paths up through the woodland whilst Paul, Lils and the dogs waited in a little shelter surrounded by flowers. By the time we were done everyone was ready for a bite to eat in the cafe where we enjoyed some excellent food. After our meal the boys asked if we could go round the house so off we went. We lost Joey immediately. When the lady told him he could go anywhere in the house and take photos so long as he didn’t use a flash; he had my big camera; he was off like a shot. We all wandered round at our own pace, meeting up in various rooms as we passed through. For such a small house there is so much to see and Harry; an avid collector of junk; was impressed with all Ruskin’s little collections.
Netti did get a bit worried though when a lady approached her asking if she was Joey’s mum. Our first thought was what had he done now! It turned out she was the current artist in residence; Deidre Kelly. She had been talking to him about her work and was impressed by his interest and wanted to congratulate us on what an interesting young man he was and could she publish a picture of him taking a photo of her work to her Instagram. Of course we said yes.
On our way up to the house we had noticed a few pebble beaches along the shoreline of Coniston Water where we could get to the lake for a paddle. We found a spot with a car park just over the road and within minutes the kids were in the lake. And not just for a paddle. It was lovely watching them play happily together rather than arguing and sulking as is the wont for teenagers. It was a shame it was quite latish on so the dogs couldn’t join in the fun but Paul didn’t want wet dogs in the car. All in all the best day so far.
Wednesday started with rain and a power cut. Paul checked with the power company website to find it was a planned outage for essential maintenance so Netti and I decided we’d brave the weather and head off to the Derwent Pencil Museum in Keswick; as requested by Lils; then on to Whinlatter for the forest trails. Paul opted to stay home with the dogs, particularly since Alfie didn’t seem too well. We actually thought he was going to cark it at one point! As we drove northwards the rain got heavier and heavier and by the time we reached Keswick it was howling down. We parked up in the strangely empty car park and joined the queue for the museum; although since we only wanted the shop I couldn’t see why we had to queue. Once Lils and Joey had decided and bought what they wanted we headed out to the car, only to find we had been barricaded into the car park. Apparently it was closed to the public due to a convention being set up and we shouldn’t have been able to get in in the first place.
It was still raining when we reached Whinlatter Forest so; as it was lunch time and everyone was getting hangry due to not having breakfast or a second cup of coffee, and not knowing if we’d be able to cook dinner that evening; we went into the cafe for lunch. A good plan as it happened since by the time we’d done the rain had stopped and we had glorious sunshine. After a shortish walk following a trail we recognised from previous visits Netti snuck off and booked them all on to Go Ape. Joey only got to the top of the first tower, refused to go any further and had to come down. So whilst the others continued their treetop adventure Joey and I went exploring and found a stream where he could paddle. We made our way back just in time to see the others go down their final zip wire. Back at the car we decided we’d had another excellent day and we’d been lucky with the weather again. We messaged Paul to find the electricity still wasn’t back on so on our way home we called into Grange Over Sands and picked up pizza. The power came back on at 8.30pm, just before we got back.
We couldn’t believe we’d got such glorious weather for our last day when we woke up. We had two choices; back to Coniston Water or try the seaside at Morecambe. We plumped for Morecambe. Once again Paul stayed home with the dogs; Alfie was still not well and hardly moving. All I can say is, my apologies to Skegness; Morecambe is dismal. The whole place had an air of dereliction and whilst there are sandy beaches, they are tiny, and as the tide was out; way,way out; there was a quagmire of filthy mud between them and the sea! Lovely prom though where we had lunch and, according to Netti, the worse cup of coffee in the world in yet another greasy spoon cafe before making our way back to the car and heading off to Coniston Water. We parked up at the same spot as before and enjoyed the rest of the day. It was so nice even Netti and I indulged in a bit of wild swimming and I must say, it was quite exhilarating.
Once again the weather had changed for the worse and we had wind and rain. Which made us all feel better about coming home. As we had to be out by 10am we had done quite a bit of packing the night before so it was only a case of chucking in the last minute bits and pieces, the dogs and us in the morning. Once again Paul and Harry chose the motorways whilst we took the more gentle route, until we hit the bloody motorways again! Even so we were only half an hour behind Paul and Harry. We pulled up outside the house, opened the car doors and Alfie jumped out, ran through the house and started bounding around as if nothing had ever been wrong with him! I wonder if he and Paul had cooked up a little ploy so they didn’t have to join us on our walks.
