While the sun fought to break through the clouds this morning we pulled our walking clothes on, threw the boots and coats in the back of the car, and set off along the edge of Bassenthwaite towards Sale Fell - a circular walk around a number of picturesque hills giving views in all directions.
The climb was relatively easy going - slowly snaking our way around the edge of Sale Fell as we ascended. A few curious sheep stepped away from our approach along the way - keeping a watching brief as we passed by. Several figher jets thundered overhead during the morning - Eurofighter Typoons - appearing from the south, exiting the Lake District to the north, and circling back in. I imagine they had flown over from Coningsby in Lincolnshire.
The views from the top of Sale Fell were something else. I took several photographs, but I’m not sure they really do it justice. Getting a half-decent photo seemed to involve a slice of luck as the billowing clouds whistled over the landscape below - driven by a stiff breeze that caused us all to wrap up in hats, gloves and waterproofs as best we could.
We sheltered behind an escarpment at the top for a few minutes - sipping flasks of tea and coffee - before starting back down.
Afterwards we retreated to Braithwaite, and grabbed lunch at a new tea room called Jaspers. A warm sausage sandwich and a hot drink hit the spot rather expertly.
This afternoon is altogether more pedestrian - or sedentary in fact. We’re holed up in the warm of the cottage once more. The rest of the family are watching TV in the lounge - I’m at the kitchen table with the radio playing. An orchestral concert on BBC Radio 3.
I could get used to this. Of course today is our last full day. Tomorrow myself and my other half return south to find out how the kids got on without us. No doubt the washing machine will think the apocalypse has begun.