We were delayed with our departure this morning; our immediate
neighbour, the Welsh farmer and father of six children, came over to offer his
assistance when we had a minor problem with our hitch up. We had let the
caravan down from the levelling ramp before hitching and it had skewed to one
side, thus causing the jockey wheel to twist at the same time. I was apparently
at fault for this, although I do not accept this to be the truth, however we
were having words, albeit in voce sotto.
I glimpsed a face in the neighbouring window and realised they were watching
this minor domestic altercation and they obviously thought it a good idea to
send the patriarch out to help. We were already remedying the situation by the
time he arrived, however his presence was a welcome distraction.
But despite
this slight delay, we were still on the road by 10am, joining the northbound
holiday traffic along with the normal Friday travellers. While the road was
busy, we found it no more so than usual and were glad that we had not delayed
still further. The newspaper reported motorway traffic jams here, there and
everywhere.
The first
part of our journey was the reverse of that covered yesterday, and nearly half
of it was a duplicate of that travelled last year when we travelled from
Preston to the Lakes District in the hired motorhome. Then the weather and
visibility had been poor, today the day was clear, the sun shining and it was
wonderful to be on the road.
We passed
up through Lancashire, then the north east of Cumbria, the barren heights of
the Lakes District lying to the west. Beyond Penrith the road was new, at least
for me who had never been north of this point before. Our journey took us
through the pages of our road atlas, a distance of ninety four miles. We
travelled up and down hills quite steep for a three-lane-each-way motorway,
when they are normally built to be as level as possible. Again the purple
heather was visible on the hillsides, and sheep were seen grazing on the
greener pastures nearer the road.
We remained
on the M6 almost all the way, until we reached the north east corner of
Carlisle where we turned eastward for the last few miles to reach our camp. The
farm is more than just a little lifestyle block of the kind we have stayed at
over the past few months, but still choosing to diversify into offering
accommodation for Camping and Caravan Club members. The remains of Hadrian’s
Wall lie beyond the farm buildings and we will have to make an effort to
explore this before we leave.
Once set
up, we spent time pouring over our guide books, the pamphlets in the camp
“Information office” and discussing options; we have
now arrived at a travel schedule for the next couple of days, and have a variety of
options for the third day. The forecast is for reasonable weather conditions
however the crowds will no doubt be great. It is the last holiday weekend
before Christmas for the British.
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