We left the Cotswalds and headed north into Cumbria. The architecture changed from Tudor cottages and honey-brown tones to slate gray stone. These stones are from quarries, chipped and placed snug like brick buildings. The strata is visible in the limestone. The rocks of the fields are cleared and used to make the fences. I cannot fathom such labor as the miles and miles of fenced fields throughout the countryside. Stone upon stone replaced the hedgerows of southern England.
The area around The Lake District is quite hilly. Tall hills are called “fells.” Roe deer mingle with the sheep, high, straight antlers and a body of white and tawny color. They look like mini-reindeer. Venison is on many regular menus, but haven’t tried it…yet!
There is marshland surrounding this area, no surprise, and the place is teaming with birds and other wildlife. Blustery dark clouds dumped torrents as we drove, but infrequently, and I haven’t even opened my umbrella yet. Seems the sun always comes through right on time. Low 60s and haven’t bothered with a coat, either.
During the industrial revolution, the railway took steel and iron to the canals to transport to London. Millions of “bobbins” were made here for the textile mills. The foundries have closed, and area returning to natural beauty.
Hardy sheep and cattle graze in the rugged fells. Herdwick sheep are, according to our guide, “tough little cookies,” born dark grey in color and lighten as they age. They survive on scrubland.
Beatrix Potter, who wrote Peter Rabbit and other children’s books, was passionate about these sheep. She bought up 40 farms and gave them to the national trust to preserve the land for the endangered sheep. However, rumor has it some restaurants now serve “herde burgers” so they may not be all that endangered any more.
Our group took the “original” Tommy the Tank steam engine narrow gauge train along the lakes, then boarded a boat for a 40 minute cruise up lake Windermere, which is 10.5 miles long and 1.5 miles wide.
William Woodsworth wrote, “I wandered lonely as a cloud … a crowd of golden daffodils…” I forget the rest… LOL. He and Beatrix both lived there. We had Cumberland sausage and gingerbread at lunch (not at the same time) both are renown there.
I took a picture of Woodworth’s grave in Grasmere. Graveyards morbidly fascinate me, and we saw some doozies on this trip. In almost every old town, there’s an old church with crumbling tombstones poised at rakish angles. Here, it was not uncommon to see dates in the 16 or 1700s, and some went back much further. Imagining my own relatives buried in this area of the country made me consider these times and the people even more. I have the “memorial card” for two of them, the oldest dating 1888, in Weston Super-Mare, which is not far from either Bath or Wookey Hole.
After lunch, I wrote, “Dying bracken on the fells turns ruddy brown as fall arrives”… I can easily see how inspiration abounds in this area.
We crossed over into Scotland at Gretna Green, where English lads and lassies ran off to marry younger than allowed in the south. Apparently the blacksmith was allowed to perform the ceremony, striking the anvil to proclaim man and wife. The only shaggy cow I was to see the whole trip was in a small enclosure out back. Rather anti-climatic!
Arrived in Edinburgh (or Edinbrough) pronounced more like Edin-burro, at dinnertime and ate Italian in the shadow of the castle, literally! It was all lit up and ghostly. Tomorrow a city tour and another history lesson… I can’t wait!