We spent last night in a gorgeous old, old house in Brampton. It was a grey, stone built, Victorian house with enormous rooms, huge beds and an extra large bath tub. Wendy, who owns and runs it, is well known for the fabulous meals she cooks ……… every day except Sunday! Guess what day we were there……..! Oh well, she booked us into a lovely bistro where we were the only diners and where we received very special treatment and scrumcious food. Then we had a pint in the pub with Paul, who was getting up at 7am to catch a flight to Egypt. Nothing dull around here.Today the wind changed. It was not cold and it was dry but boy, it was windy. We had some very long stretches on high, exposed, pastureland, with that wind right on the nose. Every step felt like two. We are hardy folk however and just as well, for when we arrived at the only pub, in the only village, on the day’s journey …….. it was closed!!! A sign said, “Beware of the dog. And the cat isn’t trustworthy either”. 

Not in the least disheartened, well a little maybe, just a little, well ok a lot, a lot disheartened, we trooped on, along by the river Eden, past a lovely suburban area called Rickerby, through a beautiful park and into Carisle.

So here we are. In Carisle. Almost finished. Last day hiking tomorrow. Better make the most of it.