Brant Fell; Windermere Summary

In yesterday’s post, I predicted that I wouldn’t do anything worth writing about this morning before catching an early afternoon train to my next destination, but that I would publish a post during or about this morning that contained a summary of my time around Windermere Lake if nothing else. I got that prediction half right. You will find a Windermere summary at the end of this post. What I got wrong is that I did do something other than vegetate this morning. I walked up nearby Brant Fell.

If there is a moral to a story, the normal course is to work up to it and let the story, sometimes at most, insinuate it. Often, the author will state the moral explicitly after plodding through the tale so that obtuse people will still get it.

I’m going to break that mould and preach the morale clearly right up front, before even getting to the tale. Here it is. You may want to pause before reading on and obtain something to use for jotting down notes, whether physically or electronically. The moral is important. Once you learn the lesson, its truth will change your life for the better as it has mine.

Here it is: Life is about neither the journey nor the destination. Life is about the sheep you meet along the way.

There. Didn’t that knowledge raise your spirit to a higher plane and enrich your soul?

But enough about the moral. Let’s get to the story of the moral.

Walking up Brant Fell

Because the Lake District of England is hilly and/or mountainous, there are several great vantage points in the Windermere Lake area. One of them, Brant Fell, is relatively close to my hotel. Apple Maps told me it would take 37 minutes to walk to its summit.

It took a titch longer because I got slightly, but only slightly, lost on the way up. And I don’t think Apple Maps accounted for my less-than-galloping speed going up and down hills. I don’t know if this is normal, but I often go down hills even more slowly than I go up. I’m deathly afraid of falling down, but not at all afraid of falling up. On the way up, all I see is the path up to the summit. On the way down, I see how far I have to fall.

Having said that, the slopes on the way were fairly mild. And while the trails on the hill itself weren’t particularly groomed. They were also never treacherous. My acrophobia was never an issue for me on this hike.

The first part of the route Apple Maps gave me was along civilized town streets. That’s not surprising. My hotel is in a residential district of the town of Windermere. After a while, Apple Maps sent me along some more rustic roads.

At one point, the road passed by pastures with several sheep grazing in them. Watching them peacefully munching on grass, warmed the cockles of my heart, which was fabulous because there’s nothing worse than cold heart cockles.

I spent a little time watching the sheep, which were in the near background. A 2x zoom got me some nice pictures of large groups of them.

Then I walked farther along the road. At one point, I checked Apple Maps to make sure I was still on the correct route. It told me that I walked slightly past where it wanted me to turn left. This puzzled me because I had not recently passed any crossroads or obvious trails.

I walked back to where it wanted me to turn. There, I saw a small wooden gate in a jog in the fence. On the other side of the gate was a pasture with sheep. I didn’t think that could be right.

As luck would have it, a man walking a dog came by. Pointing to the gate, I asked him if he knew if that was the way to Brant Fell. He paused a second and said something to the effect of, “Sorry, I just had to think which one is Brant Fell. Yes, you go through the gate, head to where that other guy up ahead is walking his dog, and then follow the path up to Brant Fell.” He then pointed to Brant Fell to show me where it was.

With that, he and his dog went through the gate and across the sheep pasture.

I followed him and found myself among some sheep along a path that was merely barely trodden grass.

I got fairly close to some of the sheep, but not too close. They wouldn’t have let me get any nearer even if I wanted to. When the path did get me somewhat close to some, if I only as much as looked like I might take another step closer, they scurried gingerly off to put a little more distance between us.

Nevertheless, I found them very pleasing creatures to be among and greatly enjoyed their company, despite their somewhat standoffish nature.

Beyond the pasture, the path remained mostly mildly trampled grass all the way to the top of Brant Fell, with the slope never becoming frighteningly steep. All-in-all, it was quite an easy climb.

This being the Lake District, the views of the mountains, trees, grasslands and lake from the Brand Fell summit were spectacular in all directions. Hohum. More glorious views.

Once I got back down to near the base of Brant Fell, Apple Maps provided a completely different route than the one it had given me to get to that point. Until it hit the town’s residential streets, the way took me along a wide, stone-and-earth trail with no steep bits. It went through some bucolic woods, which were pleasant enough. But it took me neither through nor even beside the sheep pastures. Pity, that. I would have liked to have said goodbye.

I don’t know why Apple Maps gave me an entirely different route. I was on foot and didn’t have to contend with, for example, one-way streets. You’d think that the best route out would also be the best route back. But, apparently, Apple Maps didn’t see it that way.

Immediately after I typed the preceding paragraph, Siri piped up petulantly. “I thought you’d enjoy a little variety. I do all this work to plot you, not one, but two lovely routes, and all you do is complain. A little appreciation would be nice. I thought Canadians were supposed to be polite. Would a simple ‘thank you’ have killed you?

“Siri,” I replied. “I wasn’t complaining. I described the woods as bucolic and called the path pleasant enough. I’m sorry if I offended you. That wasn’t my intent. And I apologize for not saying thank you before. Thank you, Siri.”

(Siri, can be so petulant at times. It gets tiresome.)

I got back to my hotel with time to spare before a taxi had been booked to take me to the train station. I went into the hotel’s sitting room and typed up a few of these words. I finished it on the train.

Windermere Summary

Windermere, and I use the term here to mean the Windermere Lake area, not just the town, was fantastic. The lake and the surrounding green hills and mountains are gloriously scenic. The towns of Windermere, Bowness-on-Windermere, and Ambleside are charming. The short steam train ride from Lakeside to Haverthwaite Station and back is a bit of vintage fun. And the walks and ambles through the Lakes District are healthful and beautiful, without being excessively strenuous.

(There are more strenuous hikes that one can take in the area. I didn’t)

I spent four nights in Windermere, which translates to three full days, with a half day on either end of that. I could have spent more. There aren’t any other towns that I could have visited without a car or trying to figure out the bus system. However, there are a few that can be reached by train.

I wouldn’t rent a car here. You might. I wouldn’t.

All drivers here are maniacs who insist—every last one of them—on driving on the wrong side of the road. And car makers are complicit in this insanity by putting the steering wheel, gas pedal, and clutch if the vehicle is of the stick-shift persuasion, on the wrong side of the car.

If I’d rented a car, the probability that I would have been able to drive more than six blocks without getting into a crash with a driver who insisted on driving on my side of the road is 0.0001%. The only reason that it isn’t zero is that there is a 0.0001% chance that I would have suffered a serious, unrelated health condition that either killed or at least incapacitated me before I started the car.

There are a couple of guided bus day trips around the Lake District I could have booked that depart and return to near Windermere station. But their start and/or end times interfered with meal times. My hotel room rate included both breakfast and dinner, and I was asked when I arrived to reserve a time for my meals. The hotel restaurant was very nice and the food was delicious. I didn’t know that when I decided not to take one of the bus tours, but, as it turns out, I’m glad I didn’t.

All that being said, there are lots more prescribed walks through the Lake District that I could have taken either from my hotel or from one of the places I could have gotten to by boat. Bottom line: I would have appreciated more time here. And I would have regretted having less.