I used to look down on Windermere as not for the serious outdoorsman; rather, a playground for water sport fiends, party animals and wannabe Campbells. That changed years ago when, having driven up for a spot of camping in Borrowdale, … Read More »
Monday morning around seven-thirty the sun is already strong. Windermere’s more serene west bank, four metres from the shoreline on my right, is gin clear. A school of tiny perch – our handsomest freshwater fish, and thirsty for learning with … Read More »
I’ve just taken delivery of an inflatable kayak, the Sevylor Colorado – well reviewed by experts and owners alike, and just £274 on eBay. It weighs fourteen-point-five kilos but that’s without paddle, air-pump, buoyancy aid and (my prime motive) camping … Read More »
I’d never thought to be out for so long. As Day Twenty dawns I emerge early, for reason given at end of Day Nineteen’s post, from a path-obstructing tent. I don’t yet know it but this will be the last … Read More »
Looks like rain. God knows, there’s been precious little of the stuff. After the rain. My bathroom today, fifty yards upstream of its date with the ocean, comes with fitted shower. Cold only; hot tap out of order. Not for … Read More »
How I like to leave my home for the night. Nowt but flattened grass. This swanky box overlooked my night seventeen pitch. I didn’t like that but for an hour had seen nothing suitable: just a narrow path hemmed in … Read More »
Wednesday begins with two ferry rides from Falmouth across the Fal estuary. The first is to St Mawes where, forty-four years ago, I was a hotel night porter. I was saving for a summer on the Greek islands. In the … Read More »
Didn’t do much on Monday, Day Fifteen. I’d meant to photograph Cath and Roger’s spread, its wonders not confined to dogs, cat or sheep. Didn’t get it together though, tired after Lands End to Mousehole followed by outdoor wine ‘n … Read More »
Recap: the past week saw me walking out of St Ives on Monday morning, taking two days to reach Sennen Cove, then camping within view of its beach. Wednesday brought the only rain to date. I bussed it to Penzance, … Read More »
I’m out of sync; Day Fourteen was written before this. It tells how I got to Lower Balwest Farm, where Cath and Roger own several acres, horticultivate and do holiday lets of two converted outbuildings and one caravan. On Friday, … Read More »