Beatles and Lake District April 30 - May 2, 2003 from fizzled-out musical legend, across narrow stone bridges, to a latrine that is eighteen hundred years old

	Ashness Bridge a typical Lake District - with narrow stone bridge, a lake, and many hills

We both, Sid and I, are city kids - and thus our interests during our vacations consequently turn towards nature, as opposed to civilization. Still we had planned to throw some "culture" into our British holiday bucket. Liverpool happened along our route between Wales and Lake District; it would have been a shame not to visit Beatles.

	Merry Mount Hotel we lodged at a small hotel down by the lake

It surprised me how tiny Liverpool downtown actually was. Before we could regain our sense of direction, we were making our third circle through the maze of one way streets, trying to figure out what to do. Eventually we spotted a parking lot, and what more, its attendant agreed that Beatles really used to live there, and perhaps there would be something related in down town? Same attitude was to be found everywhere we turned: "Beatles? Sure, there's something familiar about the name. Where? Well, I don't know, ask at the tourist information." Following an arrow on a sign which said TOURIST INFORMATION, we found another arrow just like the first one some fifty yards yonder -- alas, pointing back into the direction that we came from. We searched the suspicious stretch multiple times, but failed to spot the advertised service. Low in spirit, we entered an American Express travel agency - at least they managed to direct us to the location of the original Cavern (a bar where Beatles gave their early public performances). Well, modern Cavern is a contemporary, sterile shopping mall, built in place of the original building, only a statue in a hall reminds of a famous history.

The other advice we remembered directed us to Albert's Dock and to a museum there. We crossed the few hundred yards in a light rain, which quickly gained on strength, suddenly transforming seven pounds entrance fee into a very acceptable deal. The exhibition is well arranged, however if you had ever read anything about Beatles' history, you would learn nothing really new or surprising there. I endured twenty minutes in a queue for toilets (why is it always the women's room that's congested?), surrounded by contents of a German geezer tour bus, and that must have been my last drop into the overflowing barrel of my cultural indulgences.

	I submitted to requests and stood a model on the bridge for a moment -- it was really only as wide as I point with my hands.

I promised Sid mountains and lakes and creeks and romantic solitude -- it was high time to deliver. I visited Lake District before, but only during winter; I was curious whether it would be just as captivating in the spring. Vicky had warned us to avoid Windermere - at first sight of this swarming of tourists and wannabe outdoors-people, we knew she was right. Ambleside was not much better, but at least we managed to buy a map there at a National Trust store, and got a free suggestion regarding local accommodations. During our discourse we were suddenly deafened by an unmistakable sound of jet fighters -- the salesman noted that they often practice in Lake District valleys, and that it was quite common.

	Seathwaite Valley this picture has a special meaning for me -- about a hundredth of a second after I took it, I got roughly brushed aside by a furious woman sharing a path with us. Don't tell me that landscape photography is a quiet hobby!!!

A moment later we were moving along towards Keswick, with a dithering, eager biker glued to my back, while I attempted to drive at least reasonable enough to prevent our car from rolling over. Then suddenly a roar from the LEFT -- a thought of impatient idiots flashed through my mind, who would pass me on the shoulder (don't forget one drives on the left side in England), but then I almost soiled my underwear, when the view offered to me included tail wings and a fiery circle of the exhaust afterburner of a Tornado, only a few yards above us. Since then we looked out eagerly for more aircraft, but if you wish for another chance like that, it won't happen, of course.

Keswick, too, got dismissed as excessively saturated by vacationing public, and we took a road along Derwent Water, eventually finding Merry Mount Hotel on a lakeside. And since it was only early afternoon, we headed, heeding suggestions of the hotel's owner, onto a small road to Ashness Bridge. There we put on real boots and hiked a little over a historic stone bridge, by a mountain creek Watendlath and to a small lookout to our hotel, lake and surrounding hills.

	Borrowdale yes, an old stone bridge, for a change

Morning had a true English welcome ready for us - a slow, steady drizzle. As we reserved our room for two nights, we stayed in bed (after having breakfast first, of course), and slept some more. Meanwhile sun found a way back to us, preparing a wet but shiny day for our next hike. We chose a trailhead at Seathwaite, of medium difficulty. The first test awaited us right at the start -- public path led through a farm yard, through a cattle herd and a heap of their ... ehm, products.

	Road to Heaven having shaken off some brisk seniors, we were free to enjoy romantic solitude and unsteady weather in Seathwite Valley

Next test followed farther on. A couple of nimble seniors, wearing clothes in loud colors, moved on the trail ahead of us -- making it practically impossible to photograph the landscape as they kept wandering into every angle we aimed our cameras to. At one spot, though, they began to re-organize their backpack, and we managed to overtake them by a few steps. I paused to finally capture the valley without disturbing figures, when the woman brushed me aside, making me almost fall from a steep side of the road. I was completely unprepared for something like this -- especially since she must have seen me taking a picture. I know, people come in all kinds. Fortunately for us, soon our path forked -- the choice was to walk the same trail clockwise or counter-clockwise. We happened to be leading our chasing party at that moment, so we picked a right turn, went a little farther and waited what the seniors would do. They followed us doggedly -- and so we merrily trotted across a tiny bog to the other trail, thus getting rid of them for good. My last look I threw in their direction showed them hesitating under a large rock, from which a giant black sheep was gazing upon them. It may seem that an argument just began between the couple, perhaps about "so you are dragging me here among all these wild animals...", followed by a general retreat from the sheep -- since we never met them again on the looping trail, they might as well have lost their struggle for their right of way against the bleating guard of the wilderness...

	Green Gable Trail elevation of two thousand feet, blown by an obtrusively cold mountain wind

Crawling steadily up our side of the mountain, we began again alternating with yet another, this time a much younger couple, who were genuinely amazed at our apparent lack of responsibility, for we ventured into the midst of high mountain wilderness utterly unequipped with any map. Given the fact that we eventually mustered a dizzy elevation of whopping 600 meters (2,000 feet) above sea level, and further given the fact that our trail contained a single fork, with the whole loop circling around one hill, we in turn find it excessive, spending six pounds on a topo map for such a hike -- but, as I already said, people come in all kinds.

I must grant one to the Lake District - in those two thousand feet, I was comparably cold and windswept as I do elsewhere in 8,000 feet. Our summit presented us with a tiny lake and a large bog, which we were to wade through. Having expected the way down much easier, we soon discovered our mistake, as our trail kept disappearing in the bedrock of a small yet wild creek; we stumbled over boulders, trying to not get any more wet than was absolutely necessary. Finally, our path separated a bit from the creek -- and we began descending an (almost) natural staircase along waterfalls. Our luck ran out -- a huge rapid was wholly covered by well-grown trees on a steep slope, leaving us no opportunity for picture taking.

	Hadrian's Wall a small English version of the Big Wall of China

Having been five hours on the trail, we reached our car in a steady rain again, visualizing a warm supper at Keswick's Jennings Bank Tavern. It rained all night and morning came with closed drapes of heavy rain. It was Friday, a three-day bank holiday upon us -- our hotel could not keep us for all rooms (including ours) had been booked before; but given the forecast (more steady rain, with no end in sight) we were not really troubled. We had six more days of our vacation left, and still did not even reach half of our planned route. Time came to move on north, to Scotland.

	Latrine in a fort on Hadrian's Wall

In the early days, Scotland remained a "Hic Sunt Leones" country - the Roman emperor Hadrian radically solved a problem with marauding Celtic tribes -- he ordered a large stone barrier erected from coast to coast along the northern border - Hadrian's Wall, with garrisons. I must admit that however interesting Roman ruins may really be, their beauty gets effectively wasted by a heavy rain which has a way of crawling under your hood and onto your camera lens.

I was most captivated (in the figurative sense, that is) by Roman latrines. A ditch along a wall, over which a wooded seat with multiple holes was erected, with water flowing in a trough in the middle (Romans used sponges dipped in water in place of toilet tissue). Despite the luxury which such establishment must have provided, one can only pity the soldiers manning this outpost. We were shaking with cold at the beginning of May, stuffed in our fleece and Gore-Tex(tm) jackets; how must it feel in winter? Eventually we crossed the historic boundary and soon entered Terra Incognita -- this was my first time going to Scotland...

Copyright © 2003-2005 by Carol & Sid Paral. All rights reserved.