The Most Beautiful Corner In England
The tourism people at Cumbria boasted that their part of the world is the most beautiful corner in England. Nowhere, they claim, comes quite close to it.
To find out if their boast is but an empty one, my first pit stop shall be Windermere, home of Beatrix Potter and William Wordsworth. But first, a short description of the Star Trek-ish Pelladino trains run by Virgin. I have to admit that with trains like this, it's well worth my paying a steep fee for a journey in comfort. Even the loos are in some space capsule, where touch buttons close the screen doors allowing you some privacy to do your private business.
It's a lovely afternoon as I got to Windermere. Caught the YHA shuttle which promptly dumped me at a hostel which was far from a dump. In fact, with a view of Lake Windermere and sheep grazing right outside my window, it's heavenly!
Met Hiroko, who adventurous young lady that she is, is doing Liverpool, Windermere, London, Hungary on her own. Slightly-build and looking typically Japanese, she had been in Winderemere and Ambleside but found the former to be much more peaceful, much like her hometown in Hokkaido.
We fell to walking the fields and talking, climbing stiles and stepping over sheep shit, while shooting pictures. Our goal was to explore the hostel's estate and do a circuit route around it. Broken stone walls made of slate stones marked out farmland boundaries, while woolly sheep with mournful bleats are all you hear, apart from the mud squelching that both of us did as we tackled a steep slope.
With the sun on my back and a slight breeze blowing, Lake Windermere, nestled amongst mountains, sparkles like diamonds cast into the waters.
Dinner was a simple affair, and the best part of the hostel is that it has a terrace where you could sit in the outdoors, while watching the sun sink behind the mountains, as sheep grazed nearby.
This is life, gazing at God's creation and sipping a cold, cold beer.
To find out if their boast is but an empty one, my first pit stop shall be Windermere, home of Beatrix Potter and William Wordsworth. But first, a short description of the Star Trek-ish Pelladino trains run by Virgin. I have to admit that with trains like this, it's well worth my paying a steep fee for a journey in comfort. Even the loos are in some space capsule, where touch buttons close the screen doors allowing you some privacy to do your private business.
It's a lovely afternoon as I got to Windermere. Caught the YHA shuttle which promptly dumped me at a hostel which was far from a dump. In fact, with a view of Lake Windermere and sheep grazing right outside my window, it's heavenly!
Met Hiroko, who adventurous young lady that she is, is doing Liverpool, Windermere, London, Hungary on her own. Slightly-build and looking typically Japanese, she had been in Winderemere and Ambleside but found the former to be much more peaceful, much like her hometown in Hokkaido.
We fell to walking the fields and talking, climbing stiles and stepping over sheep shit, while shooting pictures. Our goal was to explore the hostel's estate and do a circuit route around it. Broken stone walls made of slate stones marked out farmland boundaries, while woolly sheep with mournful bleats are all you hear, apart from the mud squelching that both of us did as we tackled a steep slope.
With the sun on my back and a slight breeze blowing, Lake Windermere, nestled amongst mountains, sparkles like diamonds cast into the waters.
Dinner was a simple affair, and the best part of the hostel is that it has a terrace where you could sit in the outdoors, while watching the sun sink behind the mountains, as sheep grazed nearby.
This is life, gazing at God's creation and sipping a cold, cold beer.
posted by Leng at 7:51 PM
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