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Published: October 21st 2008
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Aboard the MV Swan
This has to better than climbing hills (she is thinking). It has been quite busy week, not all plain sailing but now it is time to Swan around... Today is our last full day here, and after two rather hard ones coloured by the excellent weather which keeps the lakes full, we need a quieter one! It is sunny and wonderfully clear but the temperature has gone down further to around 6C, which means the fell tops definitely are freezing... (meteorology lesson no. 94 - temperature falls at the rate of approximately 2C per 1000 feet (it's called the dry adiabatic lapse rate, nice hmmm?), so a 3000 foot peak would be 6C lower than at sea level. So there).
We drive down to Ambleside pier and get the 0950 motor launch to Bowness-on-Windermere, 30 minutes sailing. Somewhere here is the B&B to which my Dad brought us the first time we ever came up here, about 40 years ago. Maybe the shops change but the lake and the hills are eternal. We take a short steep hike up to Brant Fell, which is supposed to be a viewpoint but the council greenies have let the trees go and the canopy somewhat obscures the good bits. At last the taxpayers' funds are on display. After as quiet week, we are entertained by the customary low pass up the
The bird herself
Bar, sandwiches, loo, view, comfy chairs. Good. lake by an RAF Tornado (one would have
liked a Typhoon), but there you go (doing around 350 mph while the lake speed limit is 10 mph - bloody hooligans!). I like it, me. Missed ambition, 35 years too late. Did I ever tell you there was a bloke in our uni class who was on an RAF scholarship? His name was Flack. No kidding, it really was (and 2 of you spectators know it to be true). Maybe that was him in the Tornado - spoze he would be Wing Commander Handlebar-Moustache-Flack by now! As far as I recall, he was a friendly if somewhat aloof fellow who was swotty enough to get a 1st but then his arse depended upon it!
Anyway, back to the sedentary. After the obligatory acquisition of sufficient Lake district brand fudge and toffee to rot even the false teeth of our elderly charges, plus something a bit more elegant for immediate colleagues, daughters etc, we repair to the M.V Swan (see snap) for the cruise back to Ambleside. This old tub was built in Barrow in 1937. Lovely. Nowadays the only things you can get in Barrow are a dose of Legionella
Spot the Birdie
Spotted by a Lesser Nikon D300 from Brant Fell above Bowness-on-Windermere. Was this Mr G Flack, he who demolished the footbridge over Mickleden Beck? I think we should be told. A bill for the drying out of the boots is in the post to MoD, Whitehall. or a nuclear submarine built to your personal specification. The former is free, the latter would be my weapon of choice if I were a country and if I were allowed only one thing! (I hope you are impressed by the correct use of the subjunctive).
We drive back into Great Langdale valley and land on the Old Dungeon Ghyll Hotel for lunch. The Hikers' Bar is quiet and gloriously spit and sawdust, but the chilli con is great and the sunshine even more welcome to Penny (see snap again). After lunch we stroll along toward the Band, a leisurely looking ridge which leads toward the beckoning Bowfell. Not today, either, sorry, we stay on flat land. The path turns right toward Mickleden Beck, a lovely stream fed by those yonder hills. Pox - the map shows a footbridge, but Flack and his boys have used it for bombing practice maybe, or perhaps it was one of this year's tsunamis which have removed the possibility of a dry crossing. Disgusted of TW will write to the Ordnance Survey and complain. I ford, (you ford), she fords (but slips and gets wet feet), we all ford the stream. Partial squelch
Fairfield Horseshoe
Looking forward from the Swan as we cruise back to Ambleside, you see the Fairfield Horseshoe, a walk we have done many times. It starts and finishes at Hallbank Cottage in Rydal, no driving required. Chris, you may note the vertical composition of thirds! I would have preferred the yacht to be right of centre and slightly sideways on, but I had lost the remote control over board... back to the comforting German leder-sitzen-platz and back "home" to pack.
On the way back, we receive by digital telegraph the welcome news that our Man in Peking has produced a daughter in Hong Kong. After a few worrying weeks, this is cheery news. The details of how he acheived this are outside the scope of the blog, and beyond the data storage resources of the website, but one day hopefully there will be a blog about the trek to China to inspect the progeny.
Over the week we have clocked up a relatively modest 35 miles and about 2600m of vertical ascent (that's around 8500 feet in old money). Given the weather and all other considerations, it's a good result. Two respectable peaks conquered, of which one was an old friend, the other new. Friends welcomed, a dear boy visited with prior to his own Great-trek-with-possible-deadly-spiders-and-snakes-not-to-mention-foreigners from which we hope he will return, and last but not least some precious time together out of our normal spaces.
We will not blog Saturday but it was all about the boys (as we persist in calling them, despite their advancing age!). A stop over in Manchester to deliver
Sunshine at Last
After a fairly busy week, at last PeeWee finds the solar radiation she craves, along with a satisfactory lunch and with no threat beyond a gentle stroll afterwards today! a techno-bomb to Michael by way of a replacement laptop, the usual piggy lunch in some posh pub in Didsbury, and then a convoy of ourselves and Chris back to Broadstone, where he will leave his car for the next 7 months as he heads out on his globetrot (started 6th October, and by the time I get round to this post, the whirlwind has already consumed most of the south east Aisa!).
Next time in blog - coming soon to a theater (sic) near you - the senior Fletchers will be in Rajasthan living like Maharajas but with Air Conditioning and (hopefully) viable internet access. Starts December 28th at the London's Heathrow Airport (don't you just hate American expressions?). I fear our Royal Train will be full of them. Oh well, have another gin. Bye for now from PeeWee and
Bob.
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