We’re back in England. We wanted a stopping place to break our homeward journey and Francine found the Caravan Club site just outside Kendal in the Lake District. [I still can’t call it the Caravan and Motorhome Club, even though we now have a motorhome. 40 years of habit is hard to break.]
We arrived on Saturday afternoon and got Frodo settled in a homely little corner. Our olfactory organs are once again being treated to the aroma of wild garlic. The site is a collection of alcoves in woodland and the place is absolutely carpeted with wild garlic flowers.
One of the attractions here within walking distance is Sizergh Castle. I thought I’d left the silent letters in Scotland but no, Sizergh is pronounced ”Sizer” but a silent “gh” is nothing unusual.
The castle is about a 2-mile walk away, much of which proved to be uphill. With castle gardens in the offing, I toted my camera along in the hope of some insect action. We stumbled across one curiosity en route: a pedestrian suspension bridge over the river Kent. We couldn’t resist wandering out onto it just for the experience. A sign proclaimed that the maximum load should be 25 persons but it was bouncy enough with just the two of us.
Arriving at the castle grounds, once again our National Trust membership cards were put into action. Well, Francine’s card was put into action; my card was back in Frodo where I had left my wallet after buying fuel. DUH! The staff looked me up on their computer system and let me in, anyway.
The gardens are very well planted with loads of species name plates beside many of the specimens. What there wasn’t around the specimens was much in the way of insect activity. There are several ponds of varying dimensions, too, but again, no insect action. In the main, I wasn’t even seeing Pondskaters. We did eventually see a handful in the company of a few Whirligig beetles on one of the small ponds but that was it.
The gardens are pleasant enough – Francine certainly enjoyed them – but I was having a frustrating time. This year seems weird.
We took a small diversion on our walk back in order to call in to a Farm Shop, supposedly award-winning. Finding the entrance was a bit of a challenge but the educationally subnormal finally managed it. It did have an appealing cheese counter but I managed to resist, thinking that I should try and wean myself off it once back at home. There were beers, too, but like many of the products they appeared to have award-winning price tags.
Upstairs was a café where we treated ourselves to lunch in the form of Shakshouka; it‘s a bit like a spicy ratatouille. It went down very well as a light lunch.
At least returning to Frodo was nearly all downhill.
We’re homeward bound tomorrow.
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