The site at Nether Wasdale is at a working farm and has, allegedly, a farm shop, which sounds promising, although when we pull up to check in it appears to have everything except items you would expect from a farm shop, eg vegetables, fruit, meat and so on. A cursory glance around reveals a wealth of sweets, toys and ice cream, which might say more about the clientele on site than the farm. Later, when we call in, in search of potatoes, the woman behind the counter tells us there’s no call for them. They do provide breakfasts- presumably of the ‘full English’ kind- but we’re not breakfasters.

The site is in an attractive location, surrounded by hills and has been sympathetically landscaped, except that our allotted pitch is almost entirely encased in trees. We move to a sunnier, more open pitch next door. There are very few tourers here, although the chalets look busier.

The weather has turned changeable but we’re keen to get some walking in, especially as I’ve had a few months off from exercise. We start by having a wander around the village, which doesn’t take long. Just outside the entrance to the site there’s a tiny church, white painted, which you could easily mistake for a house- its interior cute. I wonder what size of congregation attends the services.

Along the road there are two pubs opposite each other, one looking more actively operational than the other. Further on there’s a stone bench and a phone box plus a sign to tell us it’s ‘Copeland’s best kept small village’. We are none the wiser- we’ve no clue as to the whereabouts of Copeland. Opposite the sign there’s some kind of stone monument, looking like a miniature castle, that may have been a drinking fountain. Other than a few houses further up the hill that’s about it for Nether Wasdale.

We strike out in the other direction, away from the village and discover more habitation. There’s a cafe with a gift shop on the site of an old water mill, the mill wheel still turning behind a glass window. It’s a pleasant spot, clearly popular with walkers and we can sit outside with a coffee, by the river. I become fascinated by the conversation a group, sitting around at the tables outside, is having. They are some young people in deep discussion with an older man, [group leader, perhaps?] and are not at all happy- indeed are disgruntled- especially one young woman who declares herself bored and not enjoying the activities on offer on what is, perhaps a youth centre break. The older man is trying to establish a consensus on what they’d all like to do next day, with little success!

Next day we set off on a longer expedition- to Was Lake, up a gravel track, through a farmyard and down between fields of sheep- which are, of course, everywhere. Up above us , rocky hills have thin streams of water tumbling down their steep sides. Once we reach the lake there’s a large pipe in the water, coming from a stone building on the edge of the lake, here to alleviate the drought conditions which are affecting most parts of the UK currently.

But this is as far as we can walk on this side of the lake, unless we want to try and walk round on the scree- which we don’t!

Novels by Jane Deans [Grace]: The Year of Familiar Strangers and The Conways at Earthsend. Visit my website: janedeans.com