/ V HCLE
/ IS S U E 10
weather for small-talk only. It does not serve as part of the larger conversation.
I always imagined this was a place where giants got their kicks. Roaming around, throwing things, bashing rocks, digging out rivers and lakes with their filthy bare hands.
When a bolt of lightning ripped through the sky to scorch the earth in front of us, I thought this might change. With the speed now dropping to 8mph, the car bonnet was taking waves head on. We’d been in this wet nightmare for 40 minutes and there was no sign of it receding. We’d at least passed halfway - at least we could say that. It was then we made an ascent and through the darkness we could make out the harsh jagged rocks at the foot of an unknown mountain. Blurry red lights cleared and became the back ends of vehicles. Others had made it and the rain had stopped. By the time we’d reach Keswick the weather would be back to grey and damp, and could only just qualify for small-talk. The rest of the drive was how I remembered it when I was growing up. It left me feeling insignificant and passing-through. Whereas that used to be a negative and a literal, things have changed since.
020
The Lake District reminds me of family, of not caring about anything other than my knees hurting from walking too much and being a whinging shit to my parents. I mean that in the best possible way. This time around there was no whinging. I was with my girl and we had just checked in to our room. The bed and the bar were only two flights of stairs apart. She unpacked with an incredible efficiency, filling every cupboard and wardrobe as if she’d been a long-term resident, and me, with all the care and diligence of an overweight gym hater. Once we’d ditched the bags it was into the streets. There was a strolling attitude to the place. Everywhere you looked people had no sense of direction, time or the concept of having to be somewhere. The cobbled roads and pathways were tightly knitted together,