Wintercrag Farm

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

15Apr2023

Hiking: Askham to Winter Crag via Pooley Bridge

by Miss Penny Black

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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!

13Apr2023

Books, Buses and Big Hills

by Miss Penny Black

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

9Apr2023

Orange to Sydney

by Miss Penny Black

I made the mistake of packing my bags about six hours early for my flight from Orange to Sydney, so I spent most of the day doing nothing but worrying about how the trip was going to go and deliberating over removing stuff from my bag to make it lighter.

Mum was driving me to the airport so we left in plenty of time and had a cup of coffee while we waited. I love small airports. In Orange the whole thing is one big room with one baggage carousel and two gates which are about 20 metres apart. The distance between where Mum parked and the plane was about 50 metres. Much nicer than the kilometre you have to drag your bag at city airports.

When the flight was announced no one stood up. Not being in a hurry is a sign you’re in a rural area. Rushing for a plane? That’s for those galahs in the big smoke! I followed a group of unaccompanied teenagers out the door and across the tarmac, where they looked very hesitant about boarding and looked back at me and said ‘You go first!’ So they could see me go up the little stairs. They looked so unsure I think it must’ve been their first flight, which was kind of a delightful thing to experience vicariously.

Despite the size of the plane the flight was pretty smooth. I enjoyed looking down over the national parks that cover the Great Dividing Range.

I teach Australian history every second year and the view made me think about how it took a very long time for the Europeans who landed on the coast to make their way across the mountain range. It’s hard to make out in this photo, but those line pale lines are sandstone cliff faces. The whole thing is like a maze but when the explorers finally got to the open plains on the far side they found herds of cattle that had escaped on the coastal side, bred and then just wandered around until they got through. A little trivia gem for you there ;-).

The domestic terminal in Sydney is as crappy as the international terminal is glitzy. A lot of scuffed paint, narrow hallways and poor signage. Still, after a quick exit and short wander I found the shuttle bus stop and there was a bus waiting.

I was the only passenger and the bus driver gave me a half price fare ($5) since I paid cash. The other half of the fare normally goes to the hotel I get dropped at, so he dropped me round the back where they couldn’t see😂. He was a nice older guy from Portugal and we had a good chat on the way. He pointed out the walkway from the hotels to the airport and said I could save myself the fare back in the morning if I gave myself an extra 30 minute to walk.

I was staying at the CKS Airport hotel. There’s only one hotel actually on the bit of land where the airport is, all the rest are over a short bridge. The CKS wasn’t fancy but it was clean, the room was spacious and since Charmaine couldn’t come due to a broken ankle, they changed my booking from twin beds to a king. I did what I always do and slept right up against the side, not taking advantage of the space at all.

For dinner I walked the short way to the Rowers, a very RSL-style venue that was on the water. I ordered from the QR code on the table and then waited for dinner. And waited, and waited. I wasn’t in a rush but after a while I went up to the counter and asked about the meal. Apparently, despite charging me, the QR code system wasn’t working properly so they asked what I’d ordered and then gave me a free drink. I was doing pretty well for bargains today!

The food was good, I sat there reading my book for a while then went back to the room. The bed was comfy, I had a quick video chat with Luke and set my alarm for 5am, plenty of of time to prep for the 9:30 flight the next morning!

3Nov2018

Lamai Beach

by Miss Penny Black

I am writing this from home, having discovered that the last two posts I wrote about Lamai (our last stop) have disappeared. This means that several paragraphs of me complaining about Justin Bieber on high (and I mean HIGH) rotation in every hotel, restaurant and bar in Thailand will just have to be done without – sad, I know. It honestly seemed as though some governing body in Thailand had issued the same 10 track CD to every likely establishment in the country and by the end of our three weeks I thought seriously about sticking a fork in my ears.

Lamai Beach

Audio-torture aside, we had a nice time during our last week. Lamai is a beach just south of the more famous Chaweng Beach, which runs down the eastern side of Koh Samui. This was our third trip to the island and we had decided to try Lamai as it seemed a bit quieter – the parade of hawkers, spherical and sunburned eurotrash, and whizzing jet skis of course has it’s charms (in terms of cautionary tales, perhaps) but we’d heard good things about Lamai.

Lovely lush tropical gardens in our resort.

We definitely experienced quiet. In the evenings the beach was almost deserted as it was the low season and some of the bars and restaurants were completely closed. Despite this, our resort (The Pavilion) was at least half full and there were families and groups out on the beach throughout the day. Only one jet ski at a time seemed to be in operation too, so that was also something.

Lamai main street.

A big sign on the beach warned that it was jellyfish season so I did get in the sea a couple of times but tried to keep Luke between myself and the open water.

On our second last night I made the mistake of looking up the kinds of jellyfish and related incidents to be found locally and scared myself out of going back in. Fortunately the hotel pool was perfectly fine – although Luke wasn’t happy that it had not been heated to bath temperatures.

We ate out every night and enjoyed a great number of 70-140 baht cocktails. If you’re heading to the area we highly recommend Pik’s Bar. They have a list of 140 cocktails and they’re all the equivalent of $3 AUD each.

Pik’s Bar

Lea decided Pina Coladas were the best thing since sliced bread and after her first we barely saw her without one in her hand, even at breakfast! Just kidding, of course. We didn’t usually start drinking until we’d spent at least 8 hours reading books on our sun loungers.

Our only activity, apart from eating, swimming, reading, and drinking, was watching the local gang of dogs wrestle each other up and down the beach. A form of entertainment familiar to everyone who has ever been to the coast of Thailand.

We became quite familiar with the pack and one morning I found one of them (who looked a bit like our old dog Penny) asleep on the walkway right outside our room. After that I bought a little packet of dog treats from the 7-11 and handed them out whenever they came near.

We did find a few really lovely places to eat in Lamai, one of which wasn’t Thai (all the Thai places are excellent, mind you) called Emporio Caffè.

The proprietor and chef was an Italian fellow from Rome who made the pasta by hand and shared some of his grappa and limoncello with us. The pasta was outstanding and so of course we went back two nights later. Although it was a very simple cafe it had the typical frescos. If you find yourself in Lamai be sure to go!

Luke and I left Samui on a very early flight and spent a night at the Novotel in Bangkok before a daytime flight back to Melbourne. I ended up with a headache from watching three movies and the entire available catalogue of Big Bang Theory (it’s the show I watch when there’s nothing better to watch) and disembarked at about 8:30pm to find Melbourne airport the busiest we’d ever seen it.

The lady managing the extensive Sky Bus queue told the people in line that the trouble was that the Cox Plate (a prestigious horse race), Pax (a games convention) and a Taylor Swift concert were all happening on the same weekend.

Once we got into the city we discovered that in fact the Taylor Swift concert had just emptied out from the stadium beside the station and there were crowds five deep to get onto the trains. We ended up standing up for the 50 minutes it took to get home and then walked the last kilometre. The guy at the local kebab stand spied us walking past (this was at almost midnight) and asked Luke if we were going hiking.

Arriving home was a bit weird. Last time we’d come back we’d had a house full of people and Penny to greet us. This time it was more like letting ourselves into another Airbnb. Luke had paid for professional cleaners to go through the house before we returned and they’d cleaned some things well – and some things not so well. A lot of our belongings were in boxes as friends had lived in the house while we’d been gone.

We lay down on a mattress in the spare room, turned out the light, and agreed solemnly that really, there’s no place like home.