I managed to make proper contact with my brother R today. He is in China at the beginning of a three year MA, and I have been missing him being around on Facebook which is out of bounds in China. Anyway, email contact is now established and he is well and happy enough having sorted out a room with a family and the mechanics of his course and scholarship. I should say now that R is an ace speaker of Mandarin and, having lived in China before, is happy to go native so he's gonna do fine. Hearing from him got me round to thinking about our mini holiday to the Lakes and the Edinburgh Festival. It was a fabulous time and I never got around to blogging about it, so, while I still remember, here goes with the Keswick leg....
Thursday 13.8.09
R and I chattered all the way up to Keswick, heaven knows what we find to talk about, but conversation never runs short. We don't even disagree too much on music, but to be fair, he is very open minded in spite of having I would say quite poppy/r&b taste himself (either that, or he's just plain tolerant of me). He hadn't been to the Lake District before, so it was a bit special to watch him get the full wow factor as the landscape changes quite abruptly on the Cumbrian border. It's something that can't be described and has to be lived. And it's not all about the sheep.
My memories and thoughts about the Lakes are all bound up with the happier times at PIA because I took several groups of people with learning difficulties up there for outward bound holidays. They were the best of times in almost every way. I do feel though that my eyes can only see the landscape as a stranger and would never consider living there. I think you would have to grow up with it to feel part of it, and then would grieve for it when you left. Most people have to leave. As if to illustrate this (but mainly because we wanted ice-creams) we drove through Windemere, which has for so long been a touristy destination that if has the feel of one of the great London parks in summer.
We stopped at the far end of the lake, well away from Windemere town and sat out in the sun right by the water looking at the boats coming and going, while we ate ice-creams. At the edge of the car-park there were narrow banks of grass. Several family groups sat facing the tarmac, picnicking. It seemed a strange choice, given that there was lapping water and a view of the mountains just over the road. They all seemed happy though, so who was I to question.
My new sat-nav took us on into Keswick by mid afternoon, but it took a couple of goes round to find the Babbling Brook B&B. I was tired by this time and glad to be able to have a rest. When we checked in, the owner looked us up and down, "Twin Room?" he queried. Well, we were an odd couple. Rich is slim, handsome, mid 20's, crew cut, whereas I'm erm...me. We left the poor man in suspense and went up to our room on the top floor. It was all lovely and newly kitted out in modern decor with no nik-naks.
That evening, we walked across to Derwentwater which has had all of the footpaths refurbished since I was last there. We sat on a little outcrop and nattered some more, about the acquisition of language amongst other things. I like the way the soil erodes exposing the roots of the trees, and the way that some of the trees dip into the water. I like the small islands, mysterious and thickly forested, and the way the birds go by in flotillas on the water. I like the clean air, the way the wind makes patterns in the water that spread a long way beyond expectation, and the way I've stood in that spot just often enough to be able to name the summit of Skiddaw.
By around 9pm it came to me that this was the first time ever that I had been to the Lakes and it hadn't rained. It was beautiful in the sunshine, but I almost missed the way the rainclouds gather and disperse over the fells, which, again for the first time for me, had no snow on their peaks.
Later that evening, the joke was on me. My ever careful packing hadn't extended to nightwear. Not a good thing when sharing a room with your brother. Hmm, I was embarrassed, but coped, as you do. Next morning, Rich had a long chat with the Geordie owners of the B&B and let them in on our odd-couple-ness. The breakfast was fab in the full English way that is the principle joy of a B&B. So, by 9am we were on our way to Edinburgh and pastures new.
In other, more up to date news, I've got half way to enrolling on an OU course that seems to fulfilling the criteria of getting me some practice with essays and exams, a much needed mental challenge, and affordability. If you call £350 affordable. Some bloke called Visa says it is.
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