Saturday, 1 June 2013


it is our time in eden
three nights camping with hannah woo
on the banks of windermere
at the summit of a small hill in the woods
we pitch our tent among the bluebells
the air is thick with the scent of wild garlic
h is anxious to explore and i let her loose
our night is punctuated by the hoots of owls
bats flit silently among the treetops
we are woken early by jackdaws and songbirds
while i make coffee and cook porridge
h queues for freshly baked croissants at the shop
later we go for a barefoot walk by the lake
h makes a long daisy chain
and relishes ascending an outdoor climbing wall
at near sawrey we find a congenial pub
serving mouth-watering pints of brodey's prime
and drive home through an enchanted dusk beside esthwaite water
the next day we are out on the lake in a canoe
h finds it difficult to reach the water with her paddle
and i do most of the work
but she acquits herself well
we hike up from grasmere village to easedale tarn
in the footsteps of wordsworth and coleridge
there is great rock scrambling to be had above the tumbling waterfalls
back on terra firma we dine at the best pub yet
the kings arms in hawkshead
where pints of lancaster red accompany an apricot nut roast admirably
our final day fins us out on windermere again
in bright sunshine

this time we share a kayak and our fortunes are reversed
h can paddle much more easily
but the low seating position does nothing for my creaking joints
and the headwind makes it tough going
a few moments of frustration flare
as h tires and i need a breather
oars are banged meaningfully against the hull of the kayak
i am obviously slacking
but we eventually make it back to port
with nothing more serious than damp bottoms
a postcard home to grandparents reads:
'i am being a wild child'

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