Tag Archives: Nether Wasdale

The Good, the Bad and the Sad

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On the last day in Nether Wasdale it rains steadily for the entire morning, then brightens up for us to get out walking in the afternoon.

This time we take a route around to the other side of the lake and it’s beautiful with woods, lanes and spectacular views. Part of our route follows the lake then up through some overgrown paths on to the narrow road. I spend some time attempting to photograph the butterflies on the brambles, without success as they have a tendency to flutter away while I’m trying to focus!

In the evening we stroll across to the pub to get a meal and it turns out to be exceptional for pub food. It’s also busy and characterful- surprising for such an out-of-the-way hostelry- and many of the customers are locals.

Next morning it’s time to go, although I’ve a soft spot for this tiny backwater. We have to dodge rain to pack up and as we leave the heavens really do open. There’s a hiatus while we get in a muddle and go the wrong way, confused by the very narrow roads and turnings, but at last we’re out and away.

The motorway M6 is never a pleasant journey at the best of times and as we negotiate the busy junctions and ‘spaghetti’ that is Birmingham we are dogged by traffic jams. I feel bad for those who must drive routes like these every day.

It’s a long day. Following a protracted search for a stopover to break our journey I found a pub site a camping field in Staffordshire, ‘The New Broom’. The route takes us through some of Stoke-on-Trent, which has historically been a pottery town but has suffered huge economic blows in later years, mainly I suppose from cheaper, imported pottery. I’ve never visited and I’m sure Stoke has some lovely, historic sights but what we see as we pass through is run down and unlovely.

After the early morning rain, the day turns hot and sticky. In the pub’s field, several units are already set up. It’s near to the popular theme park, Alton Towers, so there are families with caravans or vans and excited children. The bar is thronged with customers when we go to check in- some kind of ‘do’…a wedding. perhaps? I ask the barman. No- it’s a wake…

The New Broom pub is by a busy road but the portacabin showers are clean and acceptable, although later, when we go to take advantage of the bar meals, we are obliged to wait a very long time to be served despite the very few fellow diners and when it does arrive, the meal is disappointing,

There’s a noticeable increase in the price of UK sites and stopovers, reflecting, perhaps the general state of the UK economy?

A slew of traffic holdups when we left has forced us to rethink our route home. The weather turns hotter still. We stop at a small service station outside Warminster and I go to get us an ice cream as a pick-me-up. I make tea. We go to set off again- except that we’re going nowhere- there’s no way to get the van into gear. We’re at the roundabout by the garage. Husband forces the gearbox into first gear so that we can limp round into the car park- which also happens to be the Travelodge car park- and there we stop, our only option the insurance recovery, which I ring, receiving a promise of a 2 hour wait.

Six hours later I ring again. It’s now almost 10 o’clock, which is the time by which you must book if you want to reserve a room at the Travelodge, which we do. The recovery call handler expresses shocked disbelief that nobody has come and assures me that someone will be here in the morning. There’s nothing else for it- it’s a night in the dubious splendour of the Travelodge with a choice of Burger King, Greggs or Subway. Luckily we have bread and cheese in the van and in any case- Subway, as the apologetic server explains, has no bread left.

Next morning the AA man arrives promptly to tell us what we already knew. We need a recovery vehicle to get us and the poor van home. Ho Hum…

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

The Nether Regions

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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