Day 7 (July 21): Buttermere!

Well, Hardknott Roman fort didn’t happen. Arielle had a difficult night and little sleep, so we had no chance of an early start the next day. Instead, we breakfasted late and packed a lunch, redirecting our goals to Buttermere, one of the northern lakes. This meant another tortuous drive through Windermere and Ambleside, but once past that stop-and-go traffic, we sailed smoothly through the winding highway up toward Keswick. This was my first time driving this route, and I was astounded by its beauty. I wish I had a car camera that could capture the magnificent fells, the shimmering lakes, and the widening vistas that took one’s breath away as we drove past. 

Driving through Keswick, we were perplexed at the throngs of people who clogged streets and sidewalks, with more being disgorged from buses every minute, it seemed. Arielle looked it up and discovered we’d arrived at the beginning of the Keswickian Conference, an evangelical Christian conference lasting three weeks, attended by thousands. Well, that explained it. We felt a bit more charitable toward the crowds after that. We also learned a bit about Keswickian theology (look it up; it’s interesting).

Leaving the Christians behind, we threaded our way through more small villages into the fells toward Buttermere. Views opened up before us, and soon we were on a tiny, precipitous road with steep drops off to one side. We stopped once to get a picture.

Pausing in the hamlet at Buttermere for a pit stop, we then drove on to the parking spot near Arielle’s chosen hike. It was a lovely place, very quiet, with a stream (burn) running down from the fell above us into the lake below. We munched on our sandwiches, and then I settled myself on the stream bank to read while Arielle went on her hike. 

Then two hours of driving again, back through Keswick (dodging the Keswickians), through fell and forest and lake and meadow, and into the tangle of Windermere. This time we took the more traffic-clogged roads instead of the tiny, dangerous back roads. It was a relief to arrive safely again at Gilpin Cottage and hear the brook ripple and splash outside our window. Supper and then to bed!