Staying at the YHA meant an unlimited English breakfast and I was making the most of it after all my exertions. I had booked the following two nights at the Royal Hotel in Dockray, a village so small that no one in Patterdale (only 5 miles distant) had heard of it.
After packing my bag and using the wifi to post my last blog entry, I set off. I immediately realised my blister was going to make the day very unpleasant if I didn’t do something about it. I hobbled to the general store in Glenridding and bought some medical tape (kind of papery in texture) and wrapped my little toe. This seemed to mostly stop the stabbing pain and the blood seeping through my newly-cleaned socks.
A cloudy but still day.The river that runs through Glenridding
The fells were shrouded in mist and the distant reaches of the lake were ghostly, which made for some lovely photos and a nice cool walk.
I had a chat to a couple who asked where I was from and told me that they’d read in the news that Melbourne had just been declared Australia’s largest city. Only a few minutes later Daniel, (with whom I’ll be doing the Camino) messaged me with a news article saying the same. How funny to only really communicate twice in the morning and both about the same piece of news from the other side of the world.
I also had quite a long chat with a lady I’d met the previous day. She had been walking in the opposite direction on the far side of the lake with her dog and husband, who had a heart condition and was looking a bit pale.
When I met her today it was just her and the dog, her husband had hurt his knee on the previous day’s walk. She was clearly an extremely active and energetic person and her husband was not, which must make holidays in places like this very difficult. She had thought to come alone but then he had insisted on coming and now was injured. We both shook our heads at his folly and talked about travel.
She had wanted to go to South America this year but the trip had been cancelled at the last minute due to unrest in one of the places that was on the itinerary. I gave her the blog address and said if she ever made it to Australia to look me up – so if you’re reading this, hello! I realised we didn’t swap names so please leave a comment if you did end up here and I’ll give you my proper details!
Most of the west side of the Ullswater Way that I saw looked a lot like this.
I stopped for lunch at the Aira Force cafe, which was lovely but crowded and swarming with screaming children. It came as a bit of a shock because I’ve hardly seen any children so far and the day had been so quiet leading up to this point. After having a delicious croque monsieur, I walked around the cafe to the toilet block only to find a car park with over 100 cars. This is where all those people came from!
Delicious, but putting cheese on top of a sandwich does make it hard to hold.
The Lake District is a bit like this. Miles of quiet countryside and then pockets of tourists all jam-packed together. I guess anyone with mobility issues, children or limited time is just going to go to the main attractions. Aira Force is the biggest (highest? Widest? I don’t know) waterfall in the Lake District (in England? Great Britain?). There were so many people I couldn’t be bothered (hence why I know nothing about it) so I walked to Dockray via the narrow road rather than up along the waterfall trail. if the weather is nice I’ll maybe go back tomorrow.
The road was really narrow and I didn’t like how fast the cars were whizzing by, so I took a boggy detour through a field and up a hill. It probably took twice as long but the views were better and it felt safer, if damper.
Despite being a relatively short day’s walking it took me ages due to all the dawdling and chatting along the water. I got to the Royal Hotel at Dockray at about 3pm, glad to be off my feet and happy to finally find a pub with a half decent cider on tap (Aspall’s). Cider isn’t as popular in the north as in the south, unfortunately, and many pubs will only have Strongbow on tap and nothing in bottles. Aspall’s isn’t really traditional but it’s nice enough and the taste reminds me of so many summer days sitting outside pubs and enjoying the sun.
The Royal Hotel
The pub seemed nice but there were no stools at the bar (always disappointing) so I grabbed a book from the shelf in the hallway and sat down to read and drink and rest. the book was very good, a bit like Bill Bryson’s style and very funny.
Dinner was pie and vegetables and I ended up chatting to a very nice couple who were sitting near me and had a beautiful two year old collie. Apparently Meena usually takes a long time to become comfortable with new people but she sidled up to me for pats after about half an hour and then stayed next to me for ages, continually blocking everyone’s path to the toilets.
That face!
After a couple of glasses of wine I was ready for bed and looking forward to a day without my huge pack!
I had an excellent night’s sleep between 11pm and 7am, which led me (mistake I fly, it turned out) to believe all symptoms of jet lag were behind me.
I packed my bag and went downstairs, taking one more, slightly wistful, look at the wallpaper in my bedroom. I know this would never suit a mid-century house in Melbourne suburbia but…
Before I left I found Rachel, who ran the farm, and asked if I might see her dogs. She seemed a bit hesitant and explained that, in the shed where the dogs were kept was a pile of dead sheep. I said I grew up in the country and was fine fine with that (which I sort of am, I know animals have to die and it was lambing season) however the first thing I saw in the shed was a lamb’s head lying on the floor, no body attached. Rachel moved it out of the way but it wasn’t quite what I expected to see.
Anyhow, I got to pat a few dogs and saw Minty, her champion border collie. I didn’t end up taking any photos because of the dismembered ovine situation, but the dogs were interesting and some were pure collie, others were kelpie mixes.
Here’s one I saw the day before. A collie-kelpie mix.
The walk from WinterCrag to Patterdale was only about 11km but, after an easy start along the road, it became an up and down, stony zig zag along the edge of Ullswater.
Goodbye Martindale!
Along the way I saw a lot of sheep, a few small waterfalls and a lot of mossy rocks.
At one point I chatted to a couple from Canberra while I stopped for a drink then stopped a bit further on a rocky outcrop and scared the life out of a woman who didn’t see me sitting up on the ledge as she rounded the bend.
Lots of water to cross. Primroses starting to appear. Giant lumps of … I want to say slate? Granite? Lots of cute Herdwick sheep, one of the most popular local breeds.Tree roots and rocks are beautiful, but it does mean spending all your time looking at your feet.
I hadn’t booked any accommodation, figuring that if worst came to worst, I could camp at the YHA, but the lady at a cafe on the way recommended the Patterdale Hotel, saying they had rooms for £40, which is incredibly cheap for this area.
Side Farm cafe. Great mochas!
As I got got closer to Patterdale the hills got higher and there were a few more people on the trail, some running and one or two riding bikes.
When I got there they were booked out and so was the pub further on, The White Lion, which the lady at the cafe said she could not recommend, simply because it was sometimes open and sometimes not and sometimes doing food and sometimes not. I certainly got a somewhat ‘Fawlty Towers’ vibe when I went in to ask.
The apologetic guy behind the bar said they were moving furniture around upstairs so, while they normally had rooms, right now the rooms were full.. of stuff. Half the downstairs bar was also full of stuff, including a gigantic carved lion, Egyptian sarcophagus, fish tank and about a hundred other random objects.
He told me a friend of his was doing music and comedy later that night and I said I’d come back for dinner and the show. To say I had low expectations would be an understatement, but I had nothing better to do so why not?
I headed a little way further down the road to find the YHA had just one private room left but I couldn’t check in for an hour so I sat in their lounge to wait and rest my feet.
When I took my shoes off I was intrigued to find that blood from a blister had soaked through two layers of socks on one of my feet and I hadn’t felt a thing. This happened last time I was hiking here. I’ve got a very low threshold for pain so it really surprises me when this sort of thing happened and I don’t even notice.
Sorry but also not sorry.
I’ve been wearing these shoes for a year and had no problems so maybe it’s the greater distances and more varied terrain. Walking on uneven rocky surfaces is certainly working my muscles and joints more than they are used to, even on short walks.
Outside the lounge window was a bird feeder and at least a dozen different tiny birds flew in and out. The hostel, quite helpfully, had a bird identification chart on the wall so I entertained myself trying to pick which was which. At least half of them were Tits and you’ll notice I’m resisting making jokes about them, which is difficult when a matching pair of Great Tits arrived.
I had though jet lag was finally behind me, with my 11pm to 7am sleep last night, but once again I was assailed by the mid-afternoon drowse. I checked in at 5pm then decided to walk to Glenridding, just a couple of kilometres further down the road.
The store there was still open so I bought a packet of exotic chips and then walked back. On my short walk I saw two tiny rabbits nibbling at the lawn of the Patterdale Hotel, then spied a doe behind the tree line.
They did not taste at all luke prawns, which was probably just as well. Spot the deer!
I returned via the White Lion, thinking to have some dinner, only to be told a long story about the kitchen being closed because of the extractor fan, the log fire and the whole place filling up with smoke. Thankfully I had a backup plan (the YHA) so I just had a gin and tonic (after being told they had no traditional ciders or white wine) so I had the worst gin of my life (apple and insect repellant, to go by the flavour) and said I’d come back for the act that was happening later.
A drink in the White Lion after the smoke had cleared.
After a dinner of lasagna at the YHA I headed back out. I’d had a chat to the young people working at the front counter, who had also looked a bit dubious about The White Lion’s reliability in offering any decent entertainment, and told them that I would give them a report on how the night of ‘music and comedy’ turned out. With expectations as low as they could possibly be (at this point it wouldn’t have been surprised to arrive and find the place had burned down or simply disappeared into a hole in the ground) I set off.
I arrived to very little noise emanating from the hotel, despite being late for the show. The barman was standing in the doorway looking down the road and gave me a hug when he saw me and said I was late. I reminded him that this was his fault, since they no longer offered dinner. I got a glass of wine (red, obviously) and sat down, the only person on the room apart from the musician, a middle aged, slightly portly man, who was playing guitar and singing covers.
He asked where I was from and said he hadn’t met any Australians in the area in years and we talked a bit before another middle-aged couple came in and sat down. They were also staying at the YHA.
The musician (his name was Decca) said hello to them and asked where they were from. They got into a conversation about Decca’s previous jobs prior to being a travelling pub musician, and he said he’d been a bus driver and worked for Outward Bound, an educational institution that is all about getting people into outdoor pursuits.
The man Decca was talking to said what a coincidence, he too used to work for Outward Bound and used to go overseas on mountaineering excursions with groups. In fact just last week his sister had found a packet of letters in her attic that this man had been given in Pakistan, thirty four years ago on a climbing expedition, but never managed to deliver to the mountaineers he knew in England. He was given the letters by a Canadian man who needed them sent on – this was how mail got around the world from remote places before the internet. People just handed things to others who were going in the right direction and preyed they eventually got to the person on the envelope.
One of the letters was for a guy named Al Smith and it was from this Canadian man’s daughter, who had met Al in England previously but had since gone home to Canada. This couple in the pub, with this pile of ancient letters, were going to try to trace the owners of all the letters, but particularly Al Smith, who the man had known at the time through the organisation. They hoped that if they could find him one day, they could track down all the people the other letters were addressed to. Having heard Decca mention Outward Bound, they asked him if he happened to remember a guy named Al Smith.
Remember him? He’d just spoken to him last week! They used to go fell running and biking around Ullswater in their twenties and were still close mates to this day. So Decca immediately phoned Al but unfortunately the reception in the pub was so bad that he said he’d try again when he got out of the valley and get the couple’s details so he could make sure they got in touch.
Well, you can imagine how gobsmacked we all were by this series of coincidences. I had to get Decca’s contact details to find out what happened with the letter. The couple had not even opened any of the mail and we were all speculating as to the subject matter. Al was apparently now happily married to an English woman (apparently he was quite the lady’s man back in the day) but could his life have been very different if this letter had been passed along decades ago?
Trying to explain the convoluted story to Al over the phone.
Decca played ‘I Come From A Land Down Under’ for me and we both realised we only knew half the lyrics. I had a good chat to the couple before I left and then walked back to the YHA in the dark, marvelling at the way life goes. We’d all agreed that if there’d been even a few more people at the pub that night the whole conversation probably wouldn’t have happened and the couple might never have traced down Al and sent the letter onwards.
I’m not sure if I’ve really done the story justice, and please don’t ask me to clarify any of the details, but if I hear from Decca I’ll definitely follow up!
From Askham I booked two nights at Wintercrag Farm (a name that sounds very Game of Thrones, I think you’ll agree) in Martindale. As far as I can tell, Martindale comprises of four buildings and two of them are farms and two of them are churches. I can’t tell if this means the original locals were extremely pious or hated each other so much they couldn’t worship in the same building. Either way, both churches are now disused.
The house sits just over a little beck with a lovely view down the valley.
The farmers breed dogs, mainly collies, kelpie/collie mixes and terriers. I’ve seen a few of the farm dogs around but the breeding dogs are in a shed so I haven’t seen them as yet. I feel kind of bad about asking, knowing how busy farmers are, but I also really want to see them.
I had to carry all my food with me as there no shops at all within easy walking distance, so I’ve been mainly living on porridge, tomatoes, apples, cheese and flatbread. I did buy myself one treat in Pooley Bridge.
Locally made, absolutely delicious!
It’s only a small bottle (500ml) probably a bit too much to drink in only two nights but I’m willing to make that sacrifice. The man in the shop said it was perfect for drinking straight and he was right!
The rental accommodation at the farm is the entire upstairs. There are three bedrooms but I’m the only person here so I got to pick my own room.
I chose the one with the stag theme.Wallpaper close-up.
There is a kitchen and bathroom, which are nice to have to myself. When we renovated our home we got rid of our bathtub, but I’ve had nothing but baths since I got here, they’re so nice after a long day walking.
The only negative thing I have to say about the place is the way the floors creak. There is not a spot on the entire second floor that doesn’t creak like something out of a horror movie. I mentioned it to the owner but she said they don’t notice it. If it was me downstairs I’d go mad within hours.
Also, the carpet is quite something.
This morning I had a cup of porridge then set out up the fell at the back of the farm. It was a bit precipitous in places but I made it up to the first hill reasonably easily. Some thoughtful person had put a bench in a nice spot and I paused to enjoy the weather.
I then followed the ridge along a bit, stopping to talk to a man who was walking with his dog. It turned out he was from Askham, which was quite a coincidence, seeing as there wouldn’t be more than 200 people living there and he was the first person I’d spoken to since I left Askham, apart from the people at the farm.
He was very nice but told me he was 85 then proceeded to climb up and out of sight so quickly that I felt quite demoralised. Being almost 50, I don’t mind being overtaken by people under the age of 60, 70 at a stretch, but 85 is just ridiculous. Anyhow, I clambered up over rocks and along narrow paths but eventually decided it was too steep and turned around and went back down.
Looking back.
I quite like a bit of scrambling, but not when there is a steep drop right beside me. Better safe than sorry!
I made it back to the farmhouse for lunch then a nap that was supposed to be an hour long but was more like three. I think yesterday’s hike with my full backpack had been more exhausting than I’d realised and I also felt like I was getting a bit of a cold.
In the afternoon I walked across the road and up the hill a little, watching the farm dogs herd the sheep down from the fells (there’s a video on my instagram if anyone is interested: zenandtheart is my username), then I took a walk down the floor of the valley along the road. I saw some sheep with their lambs in a barn and lots of very picturesque buildings.
For dinner I made my two minute noodles (apparently they are THREE minute noodles in the uk, ick) with a sachet of tuna, cherry tomatoes and chopped up cheddar (gourmet!) and afterwards I finished off the vodka. It’s only 20% so it was like having about 3 glasses of wine but the wine was like the caramel sauce you put on ice cream when you were a kid. After a while it was a bit too sweet but I bravely managed to finish it all.
May I share my trick for having a nice cold drink in an Airbnb with no ice tray? Just fill several glasses with about a centimetre of water, freeze them when you first arrive and voila! Iced beverages. I did chill the vodka too, but I wanted to drink it slowly.
Tomorrow I’m going to walk to Patterdale, which is about eight km/five miles, and hope there’s room in the YHA. If there isn’t maybe I’ll suck it up and actually do some camping!
Luke told me two things today, one is that I make a lot of typos in the blog, which I hope you’ll all write off as jet lag and not me being too lazy to edit, or worse, not knowing how to spell or construct a sentence! Also that at least one person from his work has been reading the blog, so hi to Luke’s workmate! I hope you’re enjoying it, I’m sure it’ll be more interesting once Luke starts contributing too.
Goodnight!
This is Winnie, I have no idea what kind of dog she is but she hugs my leg then closes her eyes and leans on me. The working dogs are a lot less interested in pats.
I realise those names aren’t going to mean much to most people but it was my first day of real hiking! Very exciting! And all to places I’ve never been before. Last time I mainly stuck to the Cumbria Way, which heads through the middle of the LD, north to south, but this time I’ve started in the far east.
Last time I was here in the Lake District I used waterproof paper maps, but this time I’ve downloaded the OS map app and it’s saved a lot of room in my pack! I had to carry four giant sheets for the entire region, it’s nice to have that space free for other things now.
After a marginally better night of sleep I had French toast and bacon for breakfast (it’s really the best thing for my health to be leaving the Punchbowl, I think I’ve had too much of a good thing) and found an Airbnb property in a valley off Ullswater, the closest and second largest of the lakes in Cumbria.
Goodbye Askham, I’ll be back!
I set off in beautiful sunshine and headed west through the village. Most villages are in valleys so they are close to water, but this means every hike starts with an uphill climb, so by the time I’d got to the top of the rise I was in short sleeves, despite it being about 5 degrees.
A panorama of fells, snow-capped in the distance, ringed the horizon and I felt my spirits soar.
I took a little deviation from the path to get to the highest point on Heughscar Hill, where I had a wonderful surprise.
Fell ponies! I had no idea if they were the sort of wild animals you could get very close to. Like any sane person, I’m wary of animals that weigh five times as much as me, but they seemed extremely unconcerned by my presence and the track brought me closer.
…and closer… and closer!
They had very long manes and were middle-sized, bigger than Icelandic ponies but not huge. There were 14 in total, one grey and the rest dark brown. After a bit of research I learned that wild fell ponies are quite rare and have been in England since before Roman times. Around Ullswater and north of Kendal is the best place to see them.
The it started hailing.
Fortunately the hail was tiny – smaller than a pea, so I put on my hat and coat and I was fine. It didn’t last long and it was preferable to rain as it just bounced off.
After I got to the top of the hill I started seeing other hikers in the distance, all heading towards High Street, an old Roman road and ridge that runs 20 miles from near Askham to Windermere. Walking it had been my main goal for this trip but now that I’m seeing the tiny little people on top it seems very high.
I walked over the hill and down into Pooley Bridge. The sun came out again and the small town was heaving with day trippers and campers. Ullswater is ringed with campsites and hotels, and there’s a 20 miles circuit walk of the lake.
I stopped in the town and first looked at a church hall craft market, where I definitely wasn’t going to buy anything.
I bought three things. In my defence, they were all very small things.
I asked one of the ladies where to get coffee and she recommended a cafe/bookstore around the corner. I can’t think of a better retail combination!
I had a very nice coffee and a slice of a citrus something-or-other.
I also used the bathroom, which is something I wouldn’t normally mention on the blog, but check out this wallpaper!
Exotic!
The owner of my accommodation for the coming night had recommended talking the lake steamer down the the far end and walking from there, but I had all day (it was only 11am) and it didn’t look far on the map, so I decided to walk.
Once out of Pooley Bridge the crowds subsided to a constant stream rather than an impenetrable scrum, and I saw lots of sodden spaniels, romping retrievers and dripping dachsunds, all enjoying the water.
I looked longingly at the little sailboats out on the water, but apparently they are all privately owned, all the boats for rent were motorised or of the paddling variety.
To be honest, after two lessons this year I’m not sure I’m entirely qualified to take one out, but still…
I took a few breaks along the side of the lake as there didn’t seem to be much rush. The path eventually moved away from the water and up into the hills, where the ubiquitous streams and bogs started to appear. In Australia, if you went out bushwalking, a stream or river would be something you’d come across a couple of times a day, if you were lucky. Here it’s more unusual to not be walking over shallow running water or wading through mud at every gate.
Yay.
At one point a nice family helped me hoist my bag over a drystone wall and I got my first injury on the pointy slate but it was just a little cut on my leg.
It’s funny how distances on maps can look so short in the morning and turn out to be so very far by mid-afternoon! After several hours I still had several valleys and hills to negotiate, but I finally got to my destination; Wintecrag Farm.
Altogether I did 17km (or, less impressively, a bit over 10 miles) carrying about 10kg and only one blister to show for it. A good first day!
Despite making an effort to stay up later and fight my jet lag with all my heart, I woke up at 4am. With nothing better to do I turned the television on quietly and there was a cooking show where a woman demonstrated how to make risotto in a Bundt tin and I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this level of cognitive dissonance sober.
*shudder*
Breakfast wasn’t until 8 but I went down early anyway and the lovely lady in the kitchen was happy to accomodate me with a perfect plate of traditional English breakfast fare, which I think every will agree, is one of the best ways to start the day.
Much better than risotto Bundt. No grilled tomato or black pudding and I’m not apologising.
There were two men at another table having their breakfast just after I finished mine. We got chatting and it turned out they were on their way to Scotland to pick up medical supplies for people in Ukraine. They were retired and had started an organisation in the New Forest to provide aid. A doctor in Scotland had things to donate so they were driving north to collect the stuff then drive to Ukraine to deliver everything. This was the tenth time they had made the trip!
They were both very good humoured about it and clearly loved what they were doing. I suggested golf would be an easier way to get out of the house and they laughed, saying their wives were happy to see them go;-). People are so interesting, no matter who I talk to I learn something surprising!
Although the weather had improved slightly I wasn’t keen on walking too far so I inquired about the possibility of a bus to Penrith, assuming there would be at least a few each day. No, actually there was one… a week! But it went today! No one at the pub knew precisely when it went so I walked up to the shop and asked there. No one at the shop had ever caught the bus but they pointed me to the sign next to the bus shelter and it turned out I had a bit over an hour before the bus left and it would give me two hours in Penrith before doing the return trip. This was all very exciting and I promised to report back upon my return. Time for a few photos of daffodils before it arrived.
I arrived at the bus stop early and was joined by a man and then a woman and we had a good chat about how high property prices are, the scourge of Airbnb rentals and how terrible the weather was. Then a woman (Kay) pulled up in her car as she knew the lady (June) and asked if all of us would like a lift into a Penrith. I was a bit torn because I’d been looking forward to catching this mysterious once-a-week bus, but I also didn’t 100% trust it to turn up so I said yes to the lift.
The bus stop contains some cushions and a box of books. If you leave a donation it goes towards the pool.
It turned out to be quite an interesting ride – June runs the local OUTDOOR pool, however it’s not open for a couple more weeks. When it’s open it’s heated to 29 degrees! I am so sad that I can’t go, I’m definitely putting it on my list of things to do on my next visit.
We were dropped off in Penrith, with many thanks to Kay, and I arranged to meet June at Morrisons at 1:15pm. I had a short list of things I needed, which I managed to buy in the first 15 minutes so then I was free to wander around town.
Penrith has some charming laneways but this photo makes it look kind of derelict.. but it isn’t, I promise!
I had a walk around, bought two op shop books then realised I’d already read one of them so I left it in the bus stop box in Askham before I left. I took a few photos of some buildings around town too.
I had a cup of coffee in a cafe that seemed entirely filled with very noisy elderly people who either all knew each other or just like talking loudly to strangers (right up my alley, obviously) and the vibe was great.
Highly recommended!
The only other thing I did in town was look at the museum, which was small but had many interesting things. I particularly liked the Roman coins and this quiver and arrows.
I wandered up to Morrisons in time to meet June and then catch the bus back. June was probably in her late fifties but everyone else on the bus was definitely on their second set of teeth. They were talking about a young couple in the village who were very nice and then after a bit someone remarked that the couple in question were in their sixties 😂.
Then one of the ladies said a friend of her had written a book and everyone wanted to know what it was about and she said very loudly ‘Sex!’ and everyone laughed and wanted to know more but she claimed she hadn’t actually read it. By this time June and I, up the back of the bus, were almost crying we were laughing so hard.
When we got off she asked what I thought and I said it was the most entertaining bus ride I’d had in a long time!
When I got back to the Punchbowl it was a bit early to be propping up the bar so I took a walk to the other end of the village. I saw a church yard with some very old tombstones and lots more daffodils.
Beautiful but also kind of creepy.
Further on I walked over the river and then saw Lowther castle in the distance. Jet lag has really been an issue in the afternoons so I turned back after a short walk.
I had mentally prepared myself for a quiet evening as the previous night had been so enjoyable, chatting to so many people had really filled my tank in terms of social interactions, and the chances of having two great evenings in a row seemed unlikely, however it turned out that the second night at the Punchbowl was even better than the first.
Lakeland beers
I ended up chatting to the bar staff but also meeting a local, David, who is an author. He has one book published but is working on his next book, which is part of a three book deal, which I thought was very impressive!
I wish I’d got a photo together as we got on so well. We talked about poetry, art, music, film, travel – everything! It was so lovely to meet someone so interesting. I gave him the blog address so if you’re reading this, David, leave a message!
Being a bit more of a homebody than myself, he was very concerned at my laissez faire approach to my travels (I had no idea where I was staying the following night) but if you’re reading this I’d like to reassure you things worked out ok although I did nearly kill myself climbing over a very precarious stile!
Whew! Congratulations to anyone who slogged through this enormous post. It was all very fascinating to me but maybe not everyone is interested in the joys of regional bus services and swathes of daffodils😂. Good news, in the next post I actually do some hiking!
Here Comes The Planet 