Lake District - July 4th

Never sure if I just perceive that everyone else is in a bad mood at a certain time and go into a sulk in sympathy; or if I just go into a sulk independently. Regardless, I was in a sulk for much of the morning. It didn't help that we went back to the same town by Windermere (Bowness, I think) that we went to on Sunday. Which we hated then and vowed never to return, and hated last year and vowed etc. Hung about for a while again and had coffee at the same nasty café. The swans, though, cheered us up later. A mother, rather than chasing away anyone who ventured near her cygnets, had turned the brood into a tourist attraction. One swan was sat in a puddle, somehow not noticing that the largest lake in England was about ten feet away. And several more surrounded me pecking hopefully at my pockets while a juvenile tried grabbing the cigarette from my hand. (Typical bloody teenager.) We went on a Windermere cruise afterwards – again like last year, though at least from a different place. The ride might have been pleasant if it wasn't windy and raining. It was, however, so I stayed below deck most of the time. Windemere's an odd lake really. Sometimes it looks like Loch Ness, a big, grim stretch of water surrounded by mountains. At others it's more like the Thames around Marlow, the banks covered with garish mansions and privilege.

Had lunch at a rather exasperating parking place, then some of us drove back to the house to do some walking. I set out on my own again, intending to go up Patterdale for a while and then climb up to Anglesey Tarn. This had to be hastily amended when I realised the 'path' I'd seen on the map was just a boundary marking. Headed up the valley anyway on a pleasant track, through farms and patches of woodland, passing a barn full of weird angora goats. Turn around when I reached the sprawl of barns which is the 'village' of Hartsop, doubled back for a while and then climbed up to Bordale Haus again. This was supposed to be a gentler climb than the one from our house, winding gently across the hillside. I suppose it was overall, though the last stretch was a hell of a slog. Turned the other way once reaching Bordale Haus to climb a 'peak' called something like Stony Spiky Crags. What it actually was was a big grassy nodule without a path or any clear summit. Once again, though, good views from what I decided was the top. Dad's birthday today so we went on our customary meal out. We'd intended to go to the White Lion again but it was pretty much full, so called at the Patterdale Arms hotel instead. I feared this would be too snobby. You can only get so much upmarket in Patterdale, however, especially as we slummed it in the bar, and it was actually pretty nice. Fortunately we left just as the coachload of cheery pensioners from Leeds were rolling up.