There can be something vaguely soothing about rain pattering on the roof of a caravan over night. UK winter nights being rather long, I had been awake and soothed for a couple of hours. The same is not true when the rain insists on going for a reprise, rather like a bad 70s album, just as you thought the end was in sight. [Just why were “reprise” tracks so popular back then, I wonder?] The early morning rain gave Francine plenty of time to make our traditional first morning bacon, eggs and mushrooms breakfast. Scrummy though it was, we’ll have to plan something a little more special for Xmas Day, methinks.
As forecast, the rain did cease and we were able to go out and explore. Guillaume is parked right on the edge of the campsite in the shelter of some trees. I thought the provision of a life ring, just in case Derwentwater bursts its banks, was a considerate touch. Let’s hope we don’t need it.
As we left Guillaume in the lee of his trees and ventured towards the lake edge, we realised just how stiff the forecast “breezy conditions” were. For those parked in the few prime locations beside the lake itself, this is a rough snap of the view that greets them. The breaking waves are a clue. Though this may look monochrome it isn’t; there is some distant colour on the far shore. As idyllic as the situation of this campsite may be, I’m still surprised that permission was granted to develop it immediately beside one of the main lakes in the Lake District National Park. There’s another just around the corner, too.
We continued our walk to a spot where, several years earlier, Francine had taken a splendid photograph of a partially submerged fence and gate. It was still there but almost completely submerged. Its formerly picturesque setting was currently rather spoiled by numerous unsightly white bags which may have been deployed as flood defences – we couldn’t quite figure them out. Further round the point at the handful of boat jetties, we found that their more traditional view, straight along a jetty, with or without a boat, was also now destroyed by an ugly white building glaring through the winter skeletons of trees on the promontory acting as a backdrop. Keswick seems to be in need of some photographic knowledge within its planning department. Some of the scene-spoilers may be temporary in nature but I rather think the building is permanent.
It is still possible to get an unencumbered view across Derwentwater looking straight up Borrowdale beyond. Here’s a half-way serious attempt at a real monochrome representation of said view, albeit with the mood exaggerated a tad.
The Camping and Caravanning Club campsite beside Derwentwater is made even more idyllic by there being a Booths supermarket about 200m from the entrance gate. Booths is like the Waitrose of the northwest; what more could a foodie want? After refreshing our weary limbs in a local hostelry, of which Keswick has many, we sauntered in to Booths, which also seemed to have deployed sandbags as flood defences. [Slightly worrying but hopefully they were left over from earlier when Derwentwater did burst its banks a little.] We were on the lookout for something that might serve as Xmas dinner. Some mallard ducks looked interesting but tomorrow we’ll need to check on the Xmas Day weather guess before committing to an ingredient that really needs barbecuing. I do NOT want to have to use Guillaume’s oven.
We did invest in some Havanna Club rum to add interest to Xmas coffee. I couldn’t resist a bottle of Madeira to help some cheese down, either. It’s coming together. 😀