I got to London from Sheffield an hour late due to terrible traffic. The driver was very apologetic and good humoured, which made the trip more bearable.
This photo is awful but it’s the only one from the bus.
I got off at Victoria feeling like I was starving and ducked out of the rain into a pizza place that promised real Neapolitan pizza.
Delivered! It was fantastic.
Also check out these fancy taps in the bathroom. Futuristic!
Feeling more at peace with myself and the world, I caught the jam-packed tube and then the Stansted Express and then taxi to the end. By the time I reached my quarters I did not feel particularly at peace with the world, more like a sardine that had spent too long in a can.
My accommodation for last night was pretty weird. I booked a place through booking.com that was in Takeley, a village very close to Stansted airport. It definitely didn’t look like a hotel and when I arrived it seemed to be a house made entirely of bedrooms. My room opened directly onto the back patio area, which had all the charm of a prison exercise yard.
‘Princess Rules’ is a pretty strange bit of decor in a room that’s probably most used by backpackers and low level business people.
In the morning I caught a local bus the one mile to the airport and met Danny, who had flown from Belfast. We haven’t seen each other in five years, although we talk many times a week over messenger. We both got married last year so I’m going to enjoy telling people about it and implying it was to each other, just to annoy him.
We quickly set about getting into trouble.
Well, Danny did. Then we had a glass of Prosecco at a bar while we waited for access to a lounge that Danny booked, where we could drink more Prosecco.
At the haunted bar, where a glass leapt off the bench and smashed for no reason because no one was anywhere near it. A terrible photo (post Prosecco) of the Escape Lounge, where we had three complimentary Prosecco and breakfast.The Ryanair terminal had its own special charm. I shouldn’t complain though, this was probably the best experience I’ve had with Ryanair… although it might’ve been all the Prosecco. Lesson learned! Ryanair plus four glasses of wine equals a tolerable experience. Boarding! It was windy.The final glass of Prosecco was accompanied by a large coffee on the flight.
We landed and saw our first shell, the symbol and marker of the Camino.
We caught the bus into Santiago de Compostella then bought a bag of strawberries to eat on the train. Danny smokes so he stocked up.
Next was the high speed train to A Coruna, where we were staying the night. It was a 30 minute walk across town to the apartment Danny had booked and we were very grateful to grab some bread, ham and tomatoes (to go along with some pilfered cheese from the airport lounge) and have a picnic at the coffee table before bed. we can head all the cafes and bars below are packed with people but we are so very tired!
Stairs in A Coruna.
Tomorrow we catch a bus to Ferrol to start our walk. wish us luck!
When I come to the UK I usually drop in and visit Mum’s cousin Angela and her husband, Rick. I’ve never been great at keeping in contact with family and I usually send them an email a couple of months before I arrive to see if they are free.
This time when I checked my email for their address I found an email from Rick telling me that Angela had died two years prior from cancer. It was quite a shock, as I knew she had been recovering from chemo and breast cancer prior to our last visit but had seemed in reasonable health. Angela was always a very energetic person and somehow I just expected her to always be there.
Rick invited me to come visit (although actually I might have invited myself) but Rick is an absolutely delightful person, a retired Church of Scotland minister, and it was lovely to have the chance to go and see him.
I caught the train from Oxenholme to Whaley Bridge, which is in the Peak District. In terms of beauty it is, in my opinion, second only to Cumbria. Rick picked me up from the station (I’d missed my first train and had to take later trains but didn’t have to buy extra tickets thanks to the very nice ticket collectors) an hour later than expected and we went back to his house, which sits on the side of a hill just out of town.
It was built around 1890 so by English standards it’s almost brand new.
After a cup of tea we picked up Teal, Rick’s spaniel, who I’d first met on my last trip, and took a drive to the little church and cemetery where Angela was buried.
I don’t even know that I could say I knew Angela very well, we only spent a few days together every five years or so, but she was very kind and generous and a lovely person to be around.
It did occur to me that outside of my immediate family, despite being on the opposite side of the world, Angela and Rick were the family members I saw most after Mum’s parents died. I have two cousins in NSW and Mum has a sister, Vivian, but I never see much of them and even less of Dad’s side of the family. I’ve always assumed most families were like this but Luke’s family (he had 10 aunts and uncles in total) is the complete opposite – always in contact and there’s so many of them! My first Christmases with his family were quite a shock to the system!
I hope Rick will correct me if I’ve got this wrong, but the tower of the church was built in the 13th century, the rest is a Victorian addition.
We then went back to the house and I offered to take Teal for a little walk. Being on trains all day, I wanted to stretch my legs. Teal wasn’t super keen to leave Rick behind, but I dragged him along a bit and as we got up the laneway behind the house there was a lovely view.
Then a lady came along with three border collies off lead. Teal was very friendly with them and the lady and I stood there talking about dogs for about half an hour.
Then another couple came along with their three dogs!
They had a terrier puppy with a very unusual coat.
After a good sniff around Teal was happy to head back the 200 metres to home.
In the evening Rick and I went to the local pub for dinner, where both of us managed to drop food on the floor, although I like to think I did the most damage with my molten Brie.
It was a lovely old pub which had recently been done up. Mysteriously, they kept the original name.
Very cosy!
We talked a lot about travel. Rick is going on a cruise with family next week to Spain, then he is off to Iceland a couple of months later. The following day we talked about the possibility of Rick come to Australia next year!
I had a lovely evening and came back to sit on the couch and pat Teal. It was nice to have some dog time as I am missing Bonnie but seeing dogs everywhere!
The following morning, after an excellent night’s sleep, we had breakfast then did a bit of gardening before Rick took me back to the station. I don’t think Rick could believe I actually wanted to sweep up leaves and do some out door work, but when I travel I miss doing domestic things and it was like scratching an itch. Also I was going to be sitting on public transport for about eight hours so I was glad to be doing something physical.
Now I’m part way through my journey to Stansted airport, which has entailed a train to Stockport, a change at Sheffield, a bus to London Victoria and then I’ll find a way to get to the airport.
Goodbye until next time, Whaley Bridge!A fish in Sheffield.There was some writing on the cream wall…If you can be bothered zooming in it’s a beautiful poem.
I was going to leave it there for today’s post but I just had a noteworthy experience at the bus stop.
It wasn’t the architecture of the bus stop though, tell me this building isn’t missing a 25 metre pool and the smell of chlorine.
I waited a while for the bus and then wandered out with my big backpack when it looked like people were boarding. One of the bus drivers said he’d put my big bag under the bus and so I pulled out my little backpack and threw my puzzle book and my copy of The Idler on the ground while I did up the straps.
Both the bus men noticed The Idler and commented on it, one was in favour and one was not. Was got into a conversation on the value of occasionally being idle and then one of the drivers started reciting a poem to me about expectations and ambition. The poem would have been hundreds of words long and it was fantastic.
He said it was his own poem and he loved writing poetry. I commented on the giant poem I’d seen on the building nearby and he performed another poem, then we talked about friendship (I was going to ask if he shared his poems with a partner or friends) but he said he didn’t have any friends because they let you down. He then proceeded to perform another poem and then told me he had 102 poems that he had composed but they were all memorised, none of them written down.
The other driver looked quite gobsmacked – this was the first he’d heard about the poetry. I thought it was very entertaining and very unexpected! I said he should perform some over the loudspeaker on the bus but he didn’t look keen.
So, one hour in Sheffield but quite a memorable experience!
Well, things started out ok. I walked in the sunshine from my hotel the ten minutes to the station, only 30 minutes early for my train. I got some food from the handy shop adjoining the building.
Weird looking sheep!
I stood in the sun on the platform. For a regional station there was a surprising amount of art and interesting things along the platform.
It’s a cat curled up… although I could’ve found a better angle.A post carved with different languages but each statement was about peace.
Two trains were listed on the board, one for Manchester at 10:13 and one at 10:16. My ticket said 10:16 so I asked at the information counter and the lady said to wait for the 10:16. Turns out there was no 10:16 and I missed my train, despite being ridiculously early AND asking for clarification.
My face before I talked to the (dis)information woman.
I waited another 45 minutes for the next train, realising this was going to make me late so I phoned Rick (the widower of my second cousin, Angela… my second cousin in law?) to let him know I was going to be late.
I took a few more photos to pass the time.
Imagine if they put a plaque on every spot in the USA where someone was shot.
Eventually the train arrived and I went one stop to Lancaster to change for the train to Manchester, where I was going to change for the train to Whaley Bridge.
On the platform I talked to a lady who looked about my age but who was originally from South Africa. We had an interesting talk about places you feel connected to – she has lived in England so long she had an English accent and didn’t speak Afrikaans, so when she went back she didn’t feel like she quite belonged. I said I’d always felt a connection to Lancaster as I’d never stopped there but my grandfather was from that part of the world.
Anyhow, I’m sitting on the train to Manchester and the ticket collector very kindly let me off having a ticket for an earlier train and didn’t make me but a new one. I hope the collector on the next service is so nice!
I’ve entertained myself with marking a map of my travel in Cumbria. Green is walking, orange is public transport.
I woke to a perfectly clear, blue sky and checked out of the West View somewhat regretfully. it would’ve been an amazing day to walk but never mind.
Amazingly blue but either that’s snow on the distant peaks or the thickest frost I’ve ever seen. It was -2 overnight.
last night I ended up going to see ‘Air’ at the cute little cinema a couple of blocks from the B&B. It was entertaining and I always like going to tiny local cinemas. So tiny the tickets were hand-written!
The bathroom decor was almost more exciting than the movie.
After I left the West View I headed to the shops. I bought the last couple of things I needed for the Camino, including some compeed plasters, which multiple people have assured me have magical blister-healing properties. I also got some more familiar but less magical elastoplast tape. With two treatments for blisters I’m hoping Murphy’s Law will ensure I get none.
All the buses leave from outside Booths supermarket. There was no one waiting when I first got there so I went into the supermarket to look at weird chip flavours.
Score!
When I came out there were approximately a billion people waiting for the same bus as me. I glumly joined the end of the line but, due to one bus parking in the wrong spot, my bus ended up stopping on the wrong spot, closer to my end of the queue. Well, the tension was palpable as all the orderly elderly people realised what was happening. One single couple walked from what was now the back to the front and just kind of shoved in (quelle horreur!) but otherwise we all just got on in the new order.
I went up the top and found tables! I’d never seen tables on an English bus before. I ended up sitting at a table with three locals, who said it was definitely a brand new bus.
(I took the photo after everyone got off)
It has USB charging points but also wireless charging too, where you just sit your phone on the disc on the table. Fancy!
I talked to the people at my table for the whole trip to Windermere, where they were getting off to walk to Orrest Head. This is the first time I’ve been to the lakes and not walked up Orrest Head. It’s a tiny hill right near Windermere station and Alfred Wainwright’s first walk – and mine! Maybe we’ll be able to fit in in next time.
The views became less rocky and more green towards Kendal. I’d bought my train ticket tomorrow from Oxenholme, which is just south of Kendal. There are buses that go direct from Oxenholme to Ambleside but not all the way to Keswick so I thought I’d walk from Kendal to the station. It was only about 3km.
Kendal is a lovely town but more like Penrith and Carlisle than Keswick, which are larger, less touristy towns that sit around the edge of the Lake District.
I walked around a bit and stopped for a lunch of Thai pea soup at the oldest pub in Kendal, Ye Olde Fleece Inn.
The soup was lovely but the wallpaper was something else!
Passionfruit flowers!
It was a very nice place to sit, so I sat for a while.
The walk to Oxenholme was neither pretty nor quiet, being along a busy road, but there were a few nice views.
The tree was magnificent but could not entirely cover the stalag-esque community centre behind it.
The most noteworthy thing I saw was this school.
My brain did a little hiccup and initially thought it had been doing scholarships etc since 3:25 in the afternoon. No wait, they’re celebrating their 500th anniversary in 2 years.
Eventually, after a climb up a steep hill, I reached my accommodation.
And the enormous room!
Now I’ve had cheese and mushrooms on toast for dinner and I’m listening to the Somehow Related podcast.
An early night – I don’t feel like I’ve done much but I’ll be happy to get into bed.
To finish, here’s a lovely picture from my new favourite account on instagram – a magnificent cat who likes to go walking in the Lake District!
The weather has become colder and today I had a few jobs to do before leaving to go south and then fly to Spain on Friday.
First, a quick trip to the post office.
It was not, in fact, a quick trip. It took over an hour thanks to me not reading the instructions properly on the stickers I had to fill in and having to re-line-up several times. Oh well!
Still, a literal weight was lifted when I passed it all over the bench and I went off to the museum.
The Keswick museum is small but contains some very interesting items.
Birds’ eggs. Very pretty!
A little tree hung with people’s methods of getting through lockdown.
And a giant musical instrument that was like a xylophone but made of pieces of slate. They had buttons in the display that you could press to hear the music, which was surprisingly ethereal.
Next I was going to buy myself a pair of hideous but comfortable hiking sandals (Spain being a lot warmer than Cumbria) and I like to think I succeeded and then some.
They fit perfectly, why do they look so huge? Like I’m about to go snorkeling.
I stopped in at the Oxfam shop too. No matter where you go in the UK there seems to be a plethora of second hand clothing shops.
I was excited to find a copy of The Idler, a book-style magazine that was the forerunner of one of my favourite books ‘How To Be Idle’. The magazine is full of articles on idleness. I’m generally a busy person and I live a busy life, but after I read this book years ago (and got two of my book clubs to read it, with mixed results) I re-examined my attitude to life. I make more time to do nothing now. I used to love doing nothing when I was a child, pottering around, or even just staring into space. Now I don’t feel guilty if I do nothing at times.
Anyhow, the magazine serves two purposes. First, I can read it, and second, I can cut it up to make some mail art. A few years ago my friend Fish and I did a collage course at a library. It was fun to just mess around with shapes and images. I thought I might make something to send to Kat, a friend of mine who loves getting things in the mail. Let me know when it arrives, Kat!
So I later spent several happy hours in the lounge of the B&B being creative, using receipts and fliers and bits and pieces I’ve collected in the last week to make a little fold-up collage that I could send tomorrow. As I was sitting there I wished it would rain and then it started raining, how lucky is that?
Other than that, I bought some insanely-priced hiking socks and a couple of tiny bottles of the other Kin vodka flavours so I could try them while I was here. A little toast to the first chapter of my journey ending and being such a success.
Here Comes The Planet 