Today we drove down to the Lake District for the weekend. I remember thinking about our upcoming weekend as I took my walk a few days earlier and it was raining, raining, raining. I thought, ‘Lord, please let the weather be...’ and then paused, realising that I genuinely didn’t mind what the weather was. Even if it rained all weekend, the point was to curl up in a nice cosy cottage after going for long walks (even in the rain), and so I finished my prayer by just saying, ‘Lord, you do what You like with the weather, I don’t mind.’ Of course He will do what He likes anyway with the weather, but it’s kind of nice to just agree with Him regardless and trust that even ‘rubbish’ weather will suit my best interests, too. So we drove through pouring, blinding rain the entire way down, and began the winding drive through the misty, red hills and fields of the Lake District. Our cottage is in a little town (village?) called Coniston, and after driving round endless curves and spraying high waves of water on either side of my little red car, we finally turned the corner to ‘Bend or Bump Cottage’, tucked away behind the Sun Hotel. (I think the name of the hotel is the only sun we may get this weekend...but as per my prayer that is perfectly fine!) The cottage perfectly lives up to its name, and after several minutes of carefully backing into its tiny driveway, we emptied the contents of the little red car into the little low cottage, appropriately bending lest we bump.
It is quiet here – so quiet I realise just how much noise there is even in my quiet flat at home. There are no cars driving by, no people walking by – just hills and trees and softly pattering rain that even makes no sound as it lands on the thick cottage roof. The huge beams are the kind that look like they could build Her Majesty’s ships...solid and brown and lasting for centuries. Pin and I played a card game, drank Russian Tea, and waited for our beef stew to simmer in the tiny oven. After our hefty meal of beef stew with potatoes, fresh bread, sliced tomatoes, and tea (grand total cost: £2) we set forth in the darkness to walk around the village. It was indeed darkness – pitch blackness that was illuminated in certain areas by houses and hotels. The area directly in front of our door looked like nothing, but the next day we would discover mountains and hills and chickens and ferns spread liberally around.
We turned left into the village, past the roaring river, full up with more water than usual and hurling itself over rocks and splashing up against the sides of the burn, over the bridge and past the Black Bull Inn and several other pubs of similar name and nature. Everything was cosy and lit up, but we pressed on through the slight misty rain that slanted in but didn’t really bother us too much. We went well prepared, and it didn’t even feel like it was raining, but at one point I looked over and Pin’s face was covered with water droplets. I laughed, and pointed it out, and she said she didn’t mind as long as her mascara wasn’t running. That made me really laugh, since Pin is probably the least makeup-worried female person I know, and in that misty rain with water all over, pretty much everything runs down the face, mascara included. Pin pointed out big houses that looked spooky to her, one that reminded her of Wildfell Hall, and she imagined that we were tenants thereof, out for our evening constitutional in the deep darkness and slight spookiness. I was glad to have a companion for my walk and so was she.We carried on and went left here and right there and suddenly found ourselves right back at the beginning! It surprised us immensely as we hadn’t intended to walk in a circle, so we went a little further and then turned back and came into a warm cottage with hot tea and biscuits and curled up on the couch to watch a film, at which point I promptly fell asleep and struggled up the small winding stairs to my comfortable bed and slept straight for twelve hours.
Walk length: 40 minutes
HAHAHAAH. priceless.
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