England Diaries - Part VII

We're in the Lake District in England, climbing Cats Bell. It rains something like 275 days a year in the Lake District but the day we've set aside to go hiking, we have sun. We're psyched.

We start the climb to the top of this tall peak. Except when we get to the top, we see another taller peak just up the trail. Fine. We climb that. Then--hey! There's another peak. We climb that. You can see how this went...it was us against the  mountain.  Care to guess who won?

At some point as we were climbing--oh, let's say the 3rd peak--it started misting. By the 4th peak it was a steady rain and by the time we reached the last peak (the last we were willing to climb, that is) it was windy enough to almost blow me over and there was hail.  

It was worth it for the view though. This photo isn't even all the way on top of the climb but given the hail, those photos are a bit dark so you get this one instead. 

We climbed down which was a heck of a lot harder than climbing up had been. Wet, slippery rocks. It was so steep at crumbly at some points that we just scooted down on our butts at some places.  And again--no warning or danger signs! Just nature.  It was great.

So we climb down and realize the whole climb up and back took under 2 hours.  Now what? I'll tell you now what. This is the part of the trip where my husband turned on me and took me on a forced 7-mile walk around the lake.  See the lake in the picture? That's what we circumvented.  And the picture doesn't begin to show the full scope of the lake. It was a very looong lake.

Things didn't get bad until the last mile or two. My feet were tired by then. And I never was convinced Blair actually knew where we were going. He told me "just a little further," about an hour and half before we came anywhere near the end of the trail, so I remained suspicious.

But the lake walk was some of the prettiest hiking we did. Once off Cats Bell, we came into full sun. We tied our jackets around our waist, snacked on nuts and just walked. Here are some pictures from our walk:

 

   

      

Scotland Diaries - Part III / England Diaries VI

We're old. That was my thought on waking up the next day. There was one walking loop to Loch Ness from our hotel that we hadn't explored the day before, so we told ourselves we'd get up early before breakfast and walk it. That's what we do. We don't like to leave things incomplete. We're probably never going to be in this hotel again, so it was essential we hit every path available to us, just to say we'd done it.

At least, that would  have been the case in our youth. As it stands, we woke up, looked at each other, discussed that it was cold out and it probably wouldn't be a smart idea to walk around out there with that breeze in our ears (wouldn't want to get sick) and so decided to just sleep in.  It's what I wanted to do and yet... we're old.

But it really was the right choice because I'd had a mild sore throat for the past 2 days and this morning added a light nausea to that.  We piled our stuff in the rental car and drove the A82 through the Highlands to Glasgow.  

I know I said at the beginning of these logs I would limit the use of words like "stunning" and "breathtaking," but really, that's all I know to say. Huge, rugged hills with bright yellow flowers everywhere, long-haired cows grazing at heights that seemed way to high for a cow, mountain ranges that went on and on. No billboards, no homes, no litter. Just miles and miles of hills and sky. 

Unfortunately, I was only awake for half of it. My stomach was churning as we drove the narrow windy roads and I curled up in the passenger seat and slept.

We passed a bicyclist, laden with supplies, going the opposite direction. To what, I don't know. We'd been driving 50 minutes and passed only a few small homes. We had been commenting on how the road was so narrow and winding it was like death at every turn, and that's in a car. I can't fathom what biking that must have been like.  No thanks.

We returned our rental car in Glasgow and took a taxi to the airport where we caught the train to Carlisle in the Lake District in England.

This was our first day of being ready to go home. In my case, probably brought about by not feeling well. But if someone had offered to cancel the rest of our trip and put me on a plane home, I would have taken them up on it.  It was raining at the station as we pulled out, and I did perk up enough to notice how romantic it looked, with water dripping down the train windows as we pulled away from the station.

In Carlisle we went to Enterprise Car Rental and gave them everything but a urine sample before they handed over the keys. We drove to Keswick and stayed in what was probably my favorite hotel - the Highfield. It was big, worn and elegant--just what an English hotel should look like. We stayed in East Turret room which had a view of the lake.

We got up early the next morning and toured Keswick before any of the shops open.  This is my favorite time to shop. We got a feel for the town and saw the stores, but didn't have to fight the crowds and weren't interested in buying anything.

We took the ferry across the Lake and climbed Cats Bell. More about the wind, rain and hail that greeted us there tomorrow.

Scotland Diaries - Part II

Hiking Loch Ness

Here is the view of Loch Ness we woke to outside our window on Sunday morning.  Did you know Loch Ness is 700 feet deep and is the largest freshwater lake in Great Britain? I'd always pictured it as this medium-sized lake, but it's actually 23 miles long and 1 mile wide. So darnnit, Nessie could have been hiding anywhere.

 We were planning on driving to some hiking areas, but after breakfast we decided to take a "15-minute walk" down to the Loch. That turned into a 3-hour excursion as we found paths and trails and waterfalls. It rains almost daily in the Highlands but we had a full day of sun.

And the locals freaked out about it. Okay, yes, the sun was out. But it was still a low 62 degrees with a biting wind. As you can see, I'm in a turtleneck and scarf and I took my windbreaker off for this picture. But when we went into town later that day, as I was digging for my gloves the locals were walking around in tank tops and shorts. 

After our hike we drove to Culloden Battlefield. I'd never heard of Culloden but it's a very important bit of history. Culloden is the site of the last major battle fought on mainland Britain. The battle of Culloden took place on April 16, 1746 and was a battle between armies of Prince Charles Edward Stuart--hoping to reclaim the British throne--and the Duke of Cumberland. Prince Charles' army was made up of Highlanders who'd been just slaying any army they were up against. They were a highly feared fighting force. But Cumberland was brutal in tactics that day and the Highlanders--the whole army of them--were slaughtered in less than an hour. It took us that long to walk around the field.

The battlefield exhibit is pretty lame, and there are signs everywhere encouraging people to help fund an upgrade to the site. They did have an excellent 15 minute informative film and--even better--a gnarled old Scottish man who clearly didn't suffer fools, dressed in full Scottish dress and bearing ancient arms. He gave a demonstration of how the Highlanders used to fight that was riveting. Well worth the admission price just to sit and listen to him.

Back to the hotel for dinner and reading and another day complete.

England Diaries Part V / Scotland Diaries Part I

So in travel blog time, we're at Friday, May 19th. At 8 AM, Blair and Mom board an express train back to Gatwick airport and Blair sees her off. (I'm back at the hotel, packing and again cursing myself for bringing so much stuff). Blair comes back and we head to Victoria Station to catch our train to Scotland. The train leaves at No0n and we're at the station by 10:30, so we grab an early lunch. Blair wanders off to find a bookstore and I settle in to read my book.

Fifteen minutes later, Blair comes racing back.  "We have to go. Now," he says, throwing my coat at me and grabbing luggage.

"What?" I say. 

"I just checked the boards. We're leaving from the King Cross station, not Victoria."

Crap. We race downstairs and to the underground. A lot of steps are involved and Blair is Herculean in carrying both suitcases up and down flights of stairs.  We weren't planning on having to go on the Underground so we have to stand in line to buy tickets, watching the minutes click away. It's 11:25.  The station is packed with morning commuters. We're both sweating from hauling the luggage around.  We get on the Underground. Kings Crossing is 3 stops away. Not bad, but it's 11:40. Tick-tock.

We haul ass off the subway, up a maze of stairs (Blair again carrying a 52 pound and 35 pound suitcase plus his backpack) and run through the terminal to the train platform.  We board at 11:43, fall into the seats and look at each other. "Made it," I said. Blair nodded.

"Let's not do that again," I suggest. Blair nods again.

We have a long--4 1/2 hours--but pleasant ride to Edinburgh. We step out into the city and I absolutely 100% fall in love with the city. I thought I liked England and London, but I discover I love Scotland. Edinburgh especially. It's very gothic looking with cobblestone streets and long, thin spires framed against the sky, narrow side alleys and blackened stone buildings.  Loved, loved, loved it.

The George Hotel where we stayed was stunning. Top of the list for contemporary comfort and beauty. I didn't even mind that our room looked out to an alleyway and the trash trucks woke us up the next morning.   

We dropped off the luggage and set out exploring. The first monument we came to was a memorial to Sir Walter Scott--a 200 ft. monument one could climb for a view of the city. The last entry was at 5:30 and we bought our tickets at 5:23.  We were halfway up the 287 steps when a loudspeaker came on, asking people to please vacate the monument. Naturally, we raced full-speed to the top. The wind was enough to blow us over up there, but the monument offered views of the entire city.

That night, we took a ghost walk tour of the city which also included tidbits of historical information of note. For example, did you know John Knox (the father of Protestant Reformation in Scotland) is buried under a parking space? Parking space #23, to be exact. Tourists come and stare at the parking space and take pictures. It's very weird.

 The next day we woke up to what would be our worst day of weather on the trip. Pouring rain, very cold. We toured St. Giles church. Humorous side note: As we opened the doors to the church, the organ burst into song--loud enough that you almost wanted to clap your hands over your ears.  I told Blair I so rarely walk into a church these days that God felt the need to celebrate the occasion with song.

After St. Giles we continued walking up The Royal Mile to Edinburgh Castle. I'd like to say I enjoyed the castle but I was so wet and cold and miserable, I really didn't. My umbrella kept blowing inside out and finally one of the spokes broke and my hands were numb. I did enjoy seeing The Honors (the crown jewels of Scotland that were locked away in a trunk for 111 years) though.

We walked back to the hotel and caught a cab to the airport where we had reserved a car. The plan was to drive north through Scotland to the Highlands and Loch Ness. We were nervous as we pulled away though. We really weren't sure how long a drive it would be. Perhaps we should have taken the train?

Nope. The drive was fun. Plus, Blair passed an exit for "Blair Castle," so of course we had to stop for pictures and to buy a souvenir apron.

We arrived in Inverness--the town located near Loch Ness--but we had a problem. Somehow we'd managed to set off without the hotel phone number, street address or directions. We went to the train station, eventually found a pay phone and called.  The last 10 miles of our trip were down a small (and I do mean SMALL. Barely big enough for one car) windy road that ran by the Loch. There were no signs, no exits, no way to turn around. We had no idea if we were going in the right direction which was nerve-racking as it felt we were driving off into nowhere.

So it was a great relief to reach the hotel.  It was charming. Well-worn with dark wood panels, scenic paintings of Loch Ness and a view outside our window of Loch Ness to die for. We changed, had dinner and went to bed. We opened the window and the mists of Loch Ness were right outside. It was still light at 10 PM when we drifted off to sleep.