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| On our way to Keswick. What's "wrong" with this photo? |
Today began with dire predictions that the weather would be soggy all weekend. We left, however, under cloudy skies, but with glimpses of sun, a hopeful sign! Harry drove us to Keswick, about an hour's drive from Manchester. All the time, this Canadian kept gripping the seat as cars kept coming at us from the wrong direction. I found it bit unnerving watching Racquelle turn around in her front set, where I'm used to having the driver sit, in order to chat casually with Hilary. I'll never get used to British roads.
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| Unlike sunny Provence, these hay bundles are wrapped in plastic |
Along the way, we passed by beautiful farmland, with green, well tended pastures....
that were bounded by kilometer upon kilometer of carefully constructed stone fences. The work involved in constructing them, centuries old, is unbelievable.
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| Harry and Racquelle's cottage is at the end of the street |
We arrived at Harry and Racquelle's holiday home in the morning. A tidy stone cottage built in the 1800's, it has been thoroughly updated to be a very comfortable, modern dwelling. Hilary and I were given an upstairs bedroom that overlooked the street, with windows that reminded me of Harry Potter's attic room in the second and third movies. More about Harry Potter later.
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| "Dorothy Cottage" - Harry and Racquelle's holiday home |
We didn't stay long. Knowing the weather might not hold for long, we wanted to take advantage of very minute of sunshine we have this weekend. Our goal, Harry and Racquelle's favorite hike in the region, was through forests and pastures to the mountain village of Watendlath.
The hike up into Watendlath took us past mountain streams, bracken fern, over ancient stone bridges, and past stone fences, carefully constructed over the centuries.
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| Stan, Hilary, Racquelle and Harry |
As we walked, I asked Harry how long it must have taken to build these massive fences. He said that one estimate he had heard is that, working all day, one might build a fence about three meters long. I wondered about this, as to do so would require not only building it, but gathering stones one by one from the surrounding countryside, then carefully crafting the fence, without morter, in such a manner that it would last for centuries. Apparently courses are given by local builders on how to construct them to this day. Once a stone is picked up, Harry said, a good builder would never put it back down - he would find a perfect place for it.
One could only imagine the practical challenges in building them. Not only for the time and work that it would take, but also because in order to make a living farming, you need to have a way to keep animals. But if it takes months (years???) to build it, how could you keep your herd of sheep from running away? You need a fence to keep sheep, you need sheep to live, you need to live to make a fence. Obviously, the farmers were more clever than I... they found a way to do it. It's difficulty to imagine, walking through this pastoral countryside, what a hard life it was back then.
We arrived in Watendlath, really a very small collection of farm houses, where stopped for lunch at a tea house that has been run by the same family for five generations.
Afterward, we took a trail above the village to reach a summit that looked into Rosthwaite, the next village below us.
From there, we caught a bus back to our waiting car, located in Grange. As we rode atop the open air double-decker bus, we remarked at how far we had hiked. And how relieved we all were that we didn't have to walk all the way back to the car.
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| Part of the ancient stone circle at Castlerigg |
On the way back, Racquelle suggested we see Castlerigg. I had no real idea of what it was until we opened the gate onto a quiet sheep pasture, and read an introductory inscription, posted by the fence. This place is truly unique, a prehistoric circle of stones set in a pasture, bounded on all sides by a ring of mountains. I have never been to Stonehedge, but, though
Castlerigg is clearly more primitive, there are obvious similarities. That they had deep religious and ritual significance to the ancient people who lived in this region is certain, but no one today knows exactly how they were used. What we found here, however, was a place of deep tranquility that made one want to whisper in hushed tones. Nearby, several visitors could be found cross-legged or laying on the grass, deep in mediation. It would not be for long, I imagine, for just as we were getting back into the car, rain started to pour onto the field. I'm so glad we were able to view this very special place.
Back home, we briefly stopped again at Racquelle and Harry's cottage, then, as the rain let up temporarily, sent out for a stroll through Keswick. We ended up at Derwentwater Lake, past a boathouse, and onto Friar's Craig at the foot of the lake.
There, we found a monument dedicated to
John Ruskin, an artist, social thinker and philanthropist who lived in the area during the mid 1800's. During his lifetime, he had an enormous influence in raising social and political consciousness of environmentalism, craft, and sustainability - an early champion of ideas that are critically important for us today.
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| Friar's Craig, at Derwentwater Lake |
We made it back home just as rain began to come down in earnest. Whew. We may have to do something indoors tomorrow.
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