Day Six (From Wales to the Lake District to Carlisle)

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One of the few drawbacks of travelling through an English-speaking country is that the TV news is in English. So first thing in the morning I learned that England was in the midst of an all-time heat wave. Temperatures this coming afternoon were expected to be in the mid 90's. And now we were headed deeper into the world that had no clue what "air conditioning" meant.

The Welsh don't seem to do breakfast either so I left the Hand Hotel with a rather empty stomach. We took a very scenic early morning jaunt from Llangollen to Chester, just over the border in England. The ride was only half an hour so we reached Chester just as the old Roman-aged town was opening up. James took us on a brisk walk along the old town wall. Not nearly as daunting or spooky as some city walls we've walked in Germany, but on this bright sunny day (just before the thermometer started to climb into the discomfort zone) the old town below us seemed particularly charming.

Our hotel this evening would be the County Hotel in Carlisle, England.

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Photos

Hiking the Chester City Wall
We started our tour of Chester by climbing up on the city wall then following it as it wound its way around bends in the River Dee. The wall was in excellent condition and was even used by early morning joggers.

Gazing down into the city
This was my first glimpse inside the city walls into downtown Chester. While those brick homes with the diverse chimney styles were pretty cool I was starting to wonder why we were touring this place.

Roman ruins
It wasn't too much later that we came to the reason we were here: this place had layers upon layers of history on display. At this point of our walk we came upon some of the ancient Roman foundations built by the original inhabitants of the city. "Chester" is the Roman word for "camp". The town began as a military outpost for the Roman invaders of Britain. It wasn't too far from here that Hadrian's Wall was constructed. It marked the Northernmost boundary of the Roman occupation.

Tudor homes
On the opposite side of the wall sttod this medieval/Tudor Age home.

The old and the new
At numerous points along the wall we had to climb up or down steps as we approached sections of the wall that had been built in different eras. Here we have come to one of the main gates leading into the walled city. It is called "Newgate". Behind it stands a modern day office building.

Keeping track of time
Our walk took us underneath this Victorian Age clock. Even without the dates stamped on it, it would be easy to guess that this wrought iron monstrosity with all its gild and ornamentation was built in the late 18th Century.

Looking back in time
Before long we came to the Middle Age section of Chester. You'll notice that even though the buildings conform to the same Middle Age building code, the occupants are very modern businesses such as Clarks Shoes and the Disney Store. You will also see something you don't often see in England: people running around in short pants.

Artsy Fartsy photo op
This could've been a pretty effective shot (great depth of field if I say so myslef) if the stupid lorries, I mean "trucks", weren't in the photo.

Chester Cathedral
We climbed down from the city wall just behind Chester Cathedral. It is believed that this church was built on the ruins of an old Roman temple. Gail, her mother and I hoped to go in here during our free time but the doors were locked.

Northgate Street
As you can see here, we arrived in the town of Chester just as the work day was beginning. There were very few shoppers around and about the only people working were the trash collectors.

Pseudo-Medieval?
I was very impressed by these half-timbered edifices present throughout this quaint town. But it wasn't until now that I noticed the tiny date on the building. 1888? Obviously this was more of that Victorian Age romanticism yearning for the "good old days of yore". Perhaps this part of what is called "The Rows" was simply a 19th Century restoration of what once existed in the town's Medieval past.

Cassie would love this
After strolling past a bunch of closed stores in the Rows, we did come upon a little shop selling pasties. I had known about these little meat pies mainly because a shop back home in the Slate Belt advertised that they made authentic Welsh pasties. The ad stated that the poor miners couldn't afford to pack a lot of stuff to take into the mines for lunch so they instead made big loafs of dough stuffed with meat and veggies to eat while they worked. I decided to try a genuine English pastie for breakfast. I was starving. I nibbled on my pastie as we headed down another street into a restored arcade which now served as a shopping mall.

Eastgate and that clock again
We utilized the bathroom facilities in the mall, then while Gail and her Mom tarried once again in yet another shoe store, I finished my pastie. When we finally got out of the mall, we walked out on to Eastgate Street. Looking down the street we could see yet another entrance into the walled city, the Eastgate. And up on top of it sits that unusual Victorian clock. Apparently it has become the unofficial symbol of the city, much to the chagrin of the locals who want the town to be remembered for its Medieval architecture.

Obligatory food picture
The Brits aren't noted for their culinary skills but I didn't have any problems finding good stuff to eat. These happy face confections look like any you might find in a French or German bakery. We didn't buy any but they sure smelled good.

This is how our English cousins do it
Each trip I check out and document the postal system of the nation I visit. The Danes like to use bikes, the Germans use bright yellow vans and the French mail people seem to travel incognito with no uniforms or identifying labels on their bicycles. The British certainly have the most colorful and impressive-looking equipment.

Driving ever Northward
Once the group reassembled and reboarded our bus James and
Mark took us Northward up to the Lake District of England. Along the way most of us caught some shuteye as we travelled through miles and miles of pastureland just like this. Ireland seemed like it was 75% sheepland, the section of Wales we drove through was primarily dedicated to raising sheep and now Northern England was also full of them. It's not like we were eating mutton every night. What are they doing with all these sheep?

Windermere
When I woke up from my slumber we were in a totally different kind of landscape. Gone were the large open fields broken up by the occassional stone wall. Instead we were now on hilly roads with a preponderence of large shady trees on both sides of the road. We soon passed through a town loaded with large 18th and 19th Century homes lining our way toward the pristine lakes of the region. We caught glimpses of the cool blue lake on our left but once we passed through Bowness we started to see just how huge and inviting the waters of this lake were. Even though the a/c on our bus worked pretty well, it was getting miserably hot inside and the lake water looked truly refreshing.

Rydal Mount - Home of William Wordsworth
Mark inched our bus up a steep narrow road that took us to the historic home that the great poet William Wordsworth once lived in.

Walking around the grounds
I can't believe I actually majored in English literature. I remember virtually nothing about it anymore. Walking through Wordsworth's home I didn't recognize any of his writings or remember much of anything about him. The poetry that was displayed in old books or hung on walls quite simply bored the heck out of me. The home was interesting just because of the age and the unique layout inside (lots of uneven steps and semi-hidden passageways) but the significance of it being this famous poet's house kind of eluded me.

Trying to beat the heat
The gardens of Rydal Mount were just as interesting as the house itself and the many shade trees and bushes offered some respite from the heat. Gail and I walked around the gardens rather than spend too much time inside the home or walking around the souvenir stand.

Next stop - Grasmere
We reboarded the bus and drove a short way further North where we got out for lunch break. This was the town of Grasmere which featured a number of souvenir shops, cafes, lots of shade trees and the church graveyard where Wordsworth is buried. James told us that the Grasmere gingerbread store has the best gingerbread in the world and is a "must see". That's where we headed to right after a very quick lunch of sandwiches and Cokes.