Amanda's Ambling: A surreal and sublime day at Derwent Water

We did it! Managed our first walk: it was around Derwent Water; John, Usko and I went on Sunday 8th February.

We parked midway between Portinscale and Keswick, and walked clockwise around the lake. The weather promised to contain sunny spells in the morning, and then would cloud over in the afternoon. But fortunately for us, we were only chased by a cloud for half an hour before it went away, and we finished the walk in gorgeous sunshine, the same as we had started.

View from the car, ready to start our walk

There was always some sort of mist or fog overlying part of the lake, and that made for a really ethereal atmosphere.

And it was cold. Really very cold. The edges of the lake were frozen, and the glass-like appearance of the surface of the water was stunning.

In fact I felt like I was walking through a novel. I saw tendrils of mist creeping their way across the lake.

I saw snow-capped mountains majestically rising out of the low-lying cloud.

I saw a sky so blue it defied words. And looking-glass reflections on a tranquil lake's surface which were truly breath-taking.

Along side these memories, I also carry some others to contrast the serenity of the story-book setting.

The church bells were ringing as we set off through Keswick. Unfortunately, rather than adding to the joyously expectant Sunday morning mood, the sound was very atonal to my dodgy right-eared tinnitus. However my darling husband chose to talk over the pealing, by regaling me with everything he knew about campanology (which turned out to be quite a lot). *yawns*. Apparently he went bell-ringing with his girlfriend when he was 17. He must have really liked her, or really liked bell-ringing, because he learnt enough to talk at me about it for a good 10 minutes, 25 years after the event.

I will also remember that as we came past the Lodore falls, with their signs referencing the Psalms,

we then walked past the back of the hotel, and right next to the group of women quaffing their champagne in the hotel Spa's hot tub. When I say right next to, I mean I could have reached over and grabbed a swig of bubbly for myself. (Come to think of it, maybe next time....) Instead, I smiled sheepishly, hoping they didn't have too many other walkers spoiling the view.

Then there was the very surreal moment when we stopped for lunch. There was a group of Jewish teenage boys, all wearing long black overcoats and in an array of hats of various heights.

They were a bit further up the lake edge, skimming stones across the ice to make a bizarre fizzing sound (almost light sabre-esque). Then the stones became progressively bigger and were being thrown in to break the ice, causing shock waves and more bizarre delayed cracking sounds. I did wonder how far this phenomenon would go, as it got to the stage where two of the boys tried to lift a huge rock between them and lug it towards the shore, but it proved too heavy and the plan was abandoned. It occurred to me that I might perhaps have viewed them with less interest and with more disdain if they had been dressed in hoodies and tracky bottoms. Much to my shame.

When we were walking along, we crossed the same group of boys. John and I both thought of saying "shalom", but then thought it might have come across a bit 'Friday Night Dinners' and so we just returned the "hello" they offered us. Then we went our way, and they went theirs. As I heard them talking I realised it was the first time in my life I'd heard Yiddish used fully, and it was fascinating to listen to. Even more fascinating when we realised we understood the topic of conversation! Luckily for us, the Yiddish for 'Nazi Zombies' appears to be 'Nazi Zombies'. Who knew?!

Mention must also be made of our stop at "The Chalet" in Portinscale for a cream tea.

People have said that my scone is the size of my head; which I think is a bit cruel. It's all just the forced perspective, honest ;-) It was delicious, and John and I were both more than a bit creaky when we stood up to finish our walk. Usko rested very well that evening too.

I will leave the words there (well, most of them), and finish with more photos (in the order in which they were taken) - as they say "a picture paints a thousand words". I'm sure you'll understand quite why John and I struggled to stop taking pictures... the scenery was truly ineffable. (Never thought I'd have the chance to use that word, but I have. Bonus!)