Van-ventures of the long weekend kind

 A combination of weather, work and every day commitments have firmly kept us off the hills for anything more than day trips or walking from home. Last week we suddenly realised that we had a couple of days free (during the bank holiday weekend) and a promise of half decent weather by those meteorological folk who can enthusiastically wax lyrically about atrocious weather fronts - they seem to love their jobs...

Any hoo - early Saturday morning we hastily packed the van with the bare essentials, food - tick, bedding - tick, warm stuff - tick, camera - tick, Moss' paraphernalia - tick tick tick. Then we headed to a new to us place - Alston in Cumbria and promptly fell in love with it.

Our first night was at the highest point of the area at a place frequented by motorcycles, bikers and vanlifers. At 1903ft it has the most gloriously airy and light feel to it, however when the weather is wild - it would not be a place I'd want to stay. 

Originally a large carpark for a popular café (now long gone with several failed attempts at replacing it) the views are sublime. And, if a constant and steady stream of visiting bikes is not your thing, by early evening, they'd all gone. And it was quiet - just us and three other vans and miles and miles and miles of hills, views and sky.

When we first arrived, we took Moss for a pootle over the fells, although grouse shooting moors as long as you kept your dog on a lead and stayed on the paths and tracks you can walk. We first checked out the rather stately cairn then trekked up to the trig point where once again the views took our breath away.

The next morning we went down into the village of Alston for a wander around and discovered to our delight that their steam train was up and running and put on a puffing good show for us. 

Alston is full of old quirky buildings, cobbled streets and charm, sadly we suspect that a sizable chunk of the housing were either second homes or holiday lets like so many of these 'desirable' holiday locations tend to have.

Even the gloriously pompous old bank (a Martins Bank) appeared to be apartments - hopefully for residents rather than holidaying folk - locals need affordable housing too.

I won't overwhelm you with any more photos, as I did take .. one or two .. LOADS ..! 

Right, I better stop waffling, I have work to get on with, have been waiting for a break in the weather before I can start and by the looks of things - it is now or never!

Speak soon x

mitt knitting for winter fingers

With less than twenty minutes or so to us setting off in the van I suddenly realised that I had an urge to knit. Something I'd not felt for some time - probably since pre the lockdown year so it was rather a surprise although not one I was going to ignore.

With no pattern in mind, no yarns to hand, no idea where my knitting pins were or what I was going to make, I hurtled upstairs into the attic resolving to grab 'something'. I was not about to let a creative impulse go to waste. 

With moments to spare and Himself hovering at the back door wanting to lock, I thundered back downstairs with three lumpy balls of yarn of similar but not exact ply, a circular knitting needle (size unknown) and a sheepish grin on my face. Himself looked at me, rolled his eyes and locked the door.

I decided by the time we'd left the village that I wanted to make some mittens for work - fingerless to be precise because, it does not matter how cold it is working out in the garden - I need my fingers out and about and not hiding somewhere snug. So I envisioned a 'roll necked' style of mitten so my fingers could be covered but still able to escape if I needed them to do delicate work.

So with a bit of trial and error I cast on the lightest colour - a soft grey - a cuff and kept myself busy as the miles passed beneath the van. Because I some times struggle absorbing a written pattern, I decided that I would just wing my own pattern and just duplicate each section as I went along.

I soon moved on to the next yarn, one which had originally caught my eye - a soft 'denim' fleck shade - this would be for the bulk of the hand, so I changed from the ribbing to do stocking stitch then in a moment of over confidence, I continued a strip of ribbing up the centre of the back of my hand. Easy I thought - I can do this...

After a couple of hours, we'd arrived and all thoughts of knitting were cast aside for a bit of coastal air and over excited dog leg-stretching.

During quiet moments I continued knitting, then came the thumb ... a bit of head scratching and some experimental increases happened here... there may have been a fair bit of unpicking - but sitting absorbing a view, drinking a mug of tea as the tide came in, or watching the sun go down was looped into each stitch making the process so much more magical.

Then on the last day - the day we were to return, I had earmarked the drive home as the perfect way to complete my mitts. Except I'd woken up with a searingly painful throat and a head that felt like molten lead and eyes that could not focus. Then time fell into a hole and vanished.

Now, over a week later, I have re-found my knitting, re-acquaintanced myself with the mitts, laid a wobbly hand on the more completed one and decided to try and finish them. I just need to stick the kettle on and begin.

Thank you everyone for your kind words and comments - I hear you - take it easy and be kind to yourself came up several times from those of you who know. Thank you sweet people I will heed your advice and I will not beat myself up about how slow I am recovering. Because, although the 'sickness' of it has gone, I still feel like a washed up lettuce leaf just not quite as green! 

I will be testing myself later (again) coz I will have to go back to work at some point - I am actually getting quite bored with my own company! 

The sky feels different here.

On a whim and spurred on by the fact I had one day left of my leave which needed to be used before the end of the month or I would lose it - Himself and I took last Friday off - added it to the bank holiday weekend and went feral in Dumfries and Galloway for four days!

We have some lovely memories of the area from our days when visiting with the boys and we wanted to revisit some of our old haunts as well as discover new ones, so Zeb (our van) was packed first thing on the Friday and by mid morning we were trundling up the motorway at a very sedate pace. Himself was feeling a little under the weather so despite me suggesting we stay home until he felt a 'little more human' he decided that he'd rather go and breathe in some fresh sea air and walk some gentle woodland tracks - so that is exactly what we did! Nature's curative powers are not to be sneezed at. 

We stopped a couple of places on the way up for a mug of tea and a breather, one of which Himself was incensed at the amount of litter and spent about five minutes collecting a bag full of recyclable bottles and cans - why on earth are people STILL so lazy/ignorant/awful/thoughtless????

We arrived in Kirkcudbright, and having found ourselves permissible free almost wild, off-grid parking, we wandered into the town via the estuarine coast line. Breathing in that tang that only coastal air can give you was delicious. Moss was besides herself wanting to leap into the tidal waters. We had to stop her as the tide was out and to get to the water would have entailed floundering through metres and metres of super stinky, super slippery mud - which she would have done (with such a silly grin on her face) but the thought of having to de-mud an idiot border collie had us recoiling in horror!

Wandering around a sleepy town full of quirky corners, cute cottages and narrow passageways is always a delight. I could have spent long time snapping images but Himself and Moss were both hungry so we returned to our van. There was only one other van parked up, the owner I'd spotted earlier in the local shop - a very distinctive looking bloke sporting a magnificent head of dreadlocks. His van exuded a delicious scent of incense as well as a festival vibe soundtrack - we were gently entertained by him as we ate our meal. 

The next day, Saturday, was the evening of the town's floodlit tattoo and fireworks display celebrating the last of the summer events, so we decided in the morning to visit Cally Gardens - one on our bucket list - and we were not disappointed - I may have even come home with a plant!

I could have spent all day there and even wanted to offer to volunteer an hour or two - however we had to get back for the tattoo and despite us purchasing tickets - we would not be guaranteed a good spot so had to make sure we got there in time.

Despite all good intentions, we got there a little later than planned (dog walks are serious things says Moss - not to be shortened for anything!) However, we still had a lovely evening. We watched the teeniest wee dancers doing the Highland fling (the youngest apparently was only four!) we were 'entertained' (had enough after the first ten minutes TBH) by a motorbike stunt rider, were wowed by massed pipe bands, bored by a Canadian choir (mainly because we could not hear them), amused by the gently drunk family alongside us who joined in enthusiastically with everything. We watched Scottish country dancing, flag waving, tug 'o war and a brass band. Then as the evening wore on, the lone piper played the lament high up on scaffolding - usually up in the castle but it was being renovated then the fireworks to end the evening. We all left as the tannoy was belting out Neil Diamond's 'Sweet Caroline'  Nearly everyone joined in and sang their hearts out as they melted into the darkness and up the streets and back home - once again we have fallen in love with Kirkcudbright.

On Sunday we woke up to another bright and sunny morning and with breakfast eaten, we wandered back into the town to bumble around the vintage car rally - another of our pleasures. 

Later we moved from our site - we don't like staying longer than two nights at any one point and found ourselves another quiet spot. We we arrived there were two other vans, but by night fall one had left and the other quietly - like ourselves - just watched the stars and the tide recede. 

Before we left, we managed to squeeze in walking, visiting a gallery for 'The Glasgow Girls' exhibition, swimming - Moss has developed gills, and wandering - just wandering and enjoying the gentle nothingness of wandering.

As I said before - the sky feels different here xxxx

Time to go

 

Our last day meant that we packed up (reluctantly) as we had to vacate the site by midday. We left Youngest and his lovely girl folding away their tent as Himself and I took Moss for one last little walk from the campsite. That is our set up in the middle - van and green tent - it had been an interesting few days watching other camping setups, people dynamics and camping etiquette (or the lack of it...)

We decided to get a picnic from Kewsick and go up to Nobel Knott Woodlands, eat our lunch then go for a walk - which we did and it was a wonderful way to end our jollies.

It was delightful to sit amongst the trees, eating and chatting. We agreed that we'd rather enjoyed our jolly and it should be repeated. Then, once replete, we followed the trail to the far side of the woodlands to enjoy the view.

Leaving the welcome shade of the woods was like walking into a bracken scented oven - but it was worth it. We did not linger long though and soon returned to the path taking us back into the trees and joy of joys for Moss we found a small and rather chilly burbling stream. We stopped for a while.

Along the route were tree related quotes engraved into slate. There was one from an odd source but on the whole - they were rather inspirational.

Eventually after we'd procrastinated long enough, we knew it was time to return home. We had had a lovely break - it did us all a world of good and like all holidays - it flew by with a blink on an eye. Thank you for coming along with me on my wafflings, it was lovely reliving our adventures!

Laughing shoe

It was now Wednesday and Himself decided that we would walk the opposite way up the valley away from Derwent Water and follow Derwent River towards the village of Rosthwaite - which means ‘ the clearing in the rose thorns’.

The river runs alongside the farm campsite so is very popular with the campers and with the day turning out to be rather warm again, there were lots of people swimming or sitting alongside the water’s edge. The river itself was crystal clear and so so inviting - Moss heard that invitation and threw herself in immediately!

She was most put out when we had to call her away when the pathway lead us up the flank of the hill above the river.

It was a really interesting path with evidence of old slate and copper mining and a natural HUGE archway. We were staggered at how cool the air was emanating from the arch - which at first was most welcome but very quickly it was too cold to linger and we returned to the muggy humid air.

As we reached the end of the wooded section of our route, we could hear and see a farmer rounding up some of his sheep high up above us. It seemed a rather hot and sweaty job to be doing right in the middle of the day - when we realised we were hungry so returned back down to the river where we found welcome shade beneath a huge tree right on the river’s edge. This time it was not just Moss wild swimming in the water as we were alongside a ‘twistle’ - where two rivers meet and had created a deep clear pool. This time Moss was joined by Youngest.

It was some time before we could tear ourselves away and continue to Rosthwaite. As we walked along, the hot and sweaty farmer who’d with his two equally hot looking dogs, had now rounded up a sizeable herd of sheep, was now alongside us - so we stopped to watch as the Herdwick sheep splashed through a boggy stream followed by the dogs. There was lots of bleating and baa-ing as the ewes and their lambs made their way up the farm track and into the fields - it just added to the delight of our walk.

When we reached Rosthwaite we discovered a village shop selling locally made ice cream and it seemed churlish not to stop and imbibe such cool and tasty treats - we sat in the village green surrounded by sparrows chirruping and foraging around us.

I nipped to the loo and was rather amused by the sign - and yes the door was very low and no I I didn't bang my head there!

Along the way Youngest’s lovely girl’s walking shoe had suddenly expired so Himself took us back via a shortened route back to the campsite once we'd sorted out a shoe swap (I'd a spare set of converse in my haversack). We all agreed that the shoe looked to be laughing out loud!

The air as the evening progressed was delightfully cool but a bit too fresh for a rather tired and still slightly damp dog, so her mattress was brought out and her duvet wrapped around her. She slept soundly as we chatted and ate and watched the night sky - yes, it was another excellent day.

Tomorrow was our last day - and we were going to make the most of it!