My intention had always been to spend the second day of my road trip to the Lake District checking out the actual lakes, like Coniston Water and Lake Windermere, and maybe even coming back to the region later in the summer. But after yesterday’s drive through the backroads dealing with blind corners, construction, and, worst of all, cyclists, I had pretty much decided against Day Two of white-knuckle driving. It was a pity, because this area really is every bit as beautiful as its reputation promised.
I was waffling back and forth on this: it was a Saturday, so cyclists would be worse; but better to do this now, early in the season; but those roads were even worse that the roads in the highlands; but you’re already here, for heaven’s sake; and so on, and so on. Finally I decided: (a) I won’t be coming back here any time soon; (b) what if I stuck to the wider, smoother roads, and even back-tracked at one point to avoid the narrower lanes? I told Scout we were going for it (she raised her head from the car seat and gave me a look), and we got off the motorway and headed west toward Windermere.
I was going to miss Coniston Water, my real reason for this trip. You see, I have been a huge fan of the children’s book series Swallows and Amazons since I was a little girl. I still re-read them to this day. And most of them take place on a fictional lake based on Coniston Water. But to get to Coniston meant backroads. On a Saturday. In May. So no go. Then I saw the sign for the village, and next thing I knew I was on a single lane road, driving past the most beautiful, quiet, blue water. Surprisingly, there was no one else on this road; I drove at a leisurely pace, and while I couldn’t park anywhere (the reason the road was empty was that everyone had left their homes early and taken all the parking spots along the roadside), I got to see the lake, the farms, the fells, and even ‘Wild Cat Island’. Bucket List – tick.
Granted, once I got past the village and back on wider roads, the entire world was out in full force. Traffic was backed up for miles, luckily for me in the opposite direction. It reminded me of Grand Bend on a long weekend. I had planned on lunch in one of the villages, but took one look at the cars, cyclists, and pedestrians, and decided that the Swallows & Amazons would have to do without me this year. Back home to Scotland we went.
But I am glad I got to see this region; now when I re-read the books, the scenery will be more vivid in my mind’s eye.
