Skip to main content

A breathing space

Theo and I sat perched on a rocky step in the sunshine.  Somewhere above us, Graham and Toby climbed higher up the path, while behind us, a waterfall splashed noisily down the hillside.  In front of us the land spread out in patches of green and grey and purple, sun-bright and dappled with cloud.  I drew in a deep breath.  We were definitely on holiday.




Our usual last-minute AirBnB searching had led us to a cottage on the corner of the Yorkshire Dales.  Technically we were in Cumbria, but this area is far less popular than the more famous Lake District, with the guides tending to use words like "under-rated" and "little-known".  We certainly didn't have the place to ourselves, but then the weather that first day would have dragged the most reluctant walker out of doors.  Or just about.  You can see how enthusiastic our little walkers were!


Cows.  On an A-road.  Definitely under-rated.
The target that first day was Cautley Spout waterfall.  We had a fairly flat walk along by the stream, then a steep climb up some well-made steps beside the waterfall itself.  By that point little legs were getting tired, so we made our way back down and treated ourselves to fizzy drinks at the Cross Keys.  This is no ordinary pub, but a temperance inn; it hasn't served alcohol since 1905.  It has an impressive array of alternatives.  Graham was delighted to find root beer, while I had ginger beer and the boys went for Diet Coke.  It was a good thing no one else was in the garden - the burps that resulted were tremendous!



Next day we mooched around the pretty town of Kirkby Lonsdale.  The Devil's Bridge, just outside town, was built in the 14th century, and amazingly, carried all traffic over the River Lune until the 1930's, when the number of vehicles got too much for it.  It crosses an excitingly swirly part of the river, where we were much entertained by some novice canoeists attempting to paddle the rapids.  The boys were happy exploring the rocks for quite some time.  Finally we dragged them away and along the footpath to the Radical Steps - unfortunately less exciting than they sound; it was the landowner who was a Radical, not the steps.  Still, there's a good view from the top.  And fish and chips and ice cream and a sweet shop in the town centre.  Oh my.  No one wanted much dinner that evening.




Our cottage was well-equipped with board games which reminded me of my youth.  I'd mercifully forgotten the frustration of shoving straws through a tube to set up Kerplunk, but Theo loved it.  Toby begged for a game of Monopoly and beat me.  Oh, the long-drawn-out torture of losing Monopoly.  That takes me back.

Our holiday cottage

We were a long - but curiously precise - distance from London.

Finally, since we live in landlocked Derby, we always have to go see the sea on holiday.  Only a small amount of bickering about directions was needed to get us to Silverdale Cove.  We arrived at high tide, which meant we got to throw stones in the water for about ten minutes before it retreated, rapidly and astonishingly, across the vast mudflats of Morecambe Bay.  There was a fair breeze with occasional bucketfuls of rain, but we ate lunch in a handy cave, then sheltered under trees as we climbed Arnside Knott for some more views.




In such a crowded country, it's remarkable that there are so many places still to retreat to for some breathing space.  I'm glad we found another one of them.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A baker's dozen of beautiful moments in 2025

2025 certainly had its times of difficulty, sadness - it seemed like lots of people died - and frustration. But as I read back through my diary, I noticed many moments of beauty and joy, too. I was going to pick twelve, one for each month. But after all, I am a baker: you've ended up with an extra moment tucked into the top of the bag for free. photo: Pixabay 1. Birthday cake in the snow I'd invited some friends to join us for a snowy walk near Cromford just before my birthday in January. At the top of the hill, my friend Jane produced a birthday cake, candles and all! That was a very special surprise.   2. Barn owl and beautiful music It was just a regular drive back from my Thursday Bible study meeting, until a barn owl flew across the road in front of me. I slowed down and watched it soar out of sight. As it disappeared, the haunting strains of Peter Maxwell Davies' Farewell to Stromness came on the radio. The ten-minute car journey had become extraordinary. 3. Songs an...

St Editha's Way, Day 1

St Editha was a Mercian saint who was Abbess of Polesworth in Warwickshire in the 10th century. Mercia was one of the old kingdoms and a powerful one; it covered much of the central part of the country before England was united under Æthelstan in 927. St Editha's family tree is unclear, but she may have been Æthelstan's sister. After a brief marriage, she was widowed, and took monastic vows. There are several churches dedicated to her in the Tamworth and Polesworth area. modern statue of St Editha And now, there is a new pilgrimage route connecting St Editha's churches and going onwards to Lichfield Cathedral. Early on a Sunday morning, I set out to walk it. The logistics had taken a bit of working out. I drove to Tamworth (free parking on Sundays!) and caught the 748 bus to Polesworth. It was my private chariot for the first half of the journey, clattering loudly over the speed bumps, although a couple of other people got on before I alighted. Abbey Green Park in Poleswor...

Portway: Bramcote Hills to Stanton-by-Dale

I parked in the free car park at Bramcote Hills Park and set off, naturally enough, in the direction of where I'd last been. Up some steps through the woods, along the edge with marvellous views northwards, and down past a school to pick up Moor Lane again. At that point I realised I was supposed to be walking this route in the opposite direction. Oops. Well, it didn't make much difference. It just meant that the Hemlock Stone would come at the end rather than the start. Also, I was doing a figure of eight, so I could switch paths in the middle. That sorted, I pressed on along the disused Nottingham Canal. This had varying amounts of water in it. There were good views back up to the double hump of the Bramcote Hills. Nottingham Canal Also Nottingham Canal Just before I got to Trowell garden centre, I crossed a bridge and walked across a green space to a partly built housing estate. The Boundary Brook had been aggressively re-wiggled. I'm sure it will look better in a year...