Why a trip to the Lakes proved the perfect remedy in tough times...
James Butler embarks on a nine-hour coach trip to explore the Lake District – and reveals why the journey was so worthwhile
If someone had asked me what was more likely: a global pandemic or me going on a coach trip to the Lake District, I would have plumped for the former. But as 2020 has taught all of us, we should expect the unexpected.
With the threat of a sudden quarantine looming over international travel, holiday-starved Brits have made this the year of the ‘staycation’, with an influx of visitors to the Lake District, Cornwall, Devon and northern Wales for some fresh air and Vitamin D after months of confinement.
So with an open mind and a thirst for scenery other than my living room, my friend and I boarded the Daish’s Holidays coach to The County Hotel in Kendal: a medieval market town known as the gateway to the lakes.
Usually, the prospect of a ninehour drive from the south coast to Cumbria would have me reaching for the Red Bull. But as a passenger, it flew by under the steady hand of our wisecracking cockney driver, the first of several colourful characters who we would encounter at the hotel, from Rob the Mancunian bingo caller and our cheerful Polish waitress Bozena to Fred, the Maasai manager and Vera and Steve, a retired couple who were our neighbours at breakfast and dinner, and no strangers to a coach trip.
Within walking distance of the hotel – a former coaching inn – is the River Kent, hugged by the town’s signature limestone buildings; cobbled alleys sporting shops and bars where once townsfolk would have hidden from Scottish raiders; and the ruined ancestral seat of Catherine Parr, sat atop a hill with panoramic views of the town.
But to experience the full breadth of the county, we ticked off most modes of transport other than camels and planes.
At Lake Windermere, we hired a self-drive boat to explore its hidden jetties nestled in leafy corners and bask in the towering scenery out on the open water.
And to experience coastal Cumbria, we took a hire car to Grangeover-Sands for a promenade stroll, followed by a train across Morecambe Bay’s marshy coastline to the seaside resort of Arnside and a meat and potato pie from the Old Bakehouse: swiftly burned off by a hike up Arnside Knott.
But the 159 metre hill pales in comparison to some of the Lake District’s behemoths.
Take The Old Man of Coniston, 804m tall, who looms above the village and lake that are his namesakes.
As we climbed the well-worn paths, verdant heathland soundtracked by the occasional bleating sheep transformed into vast mounds of slate topped by an abandoned mining facility: not a bad view from the office, I thought, gazing at the fells laced with waterfalls trickling into the valley below. Unexpectedly, the higher we got, the more people we saw, with some hikers practically running to the summit.
We took a much more leisurely pace, stopping above the glassy vista of Low Water for a mouthful of Kendal mint cake – a crumbly, fudge-like sweet – to give us the energy to climb the final stretch like the mountaineers of old.
Up we went, into the clouds, to the cairn marking the summit.
And while the views were lacking at the top, it seemed a fitting metaphor for this year – having to make
We hired a selfdrive boat to explore its hidden jetties nestled in leafy corners
the most of whatever’s thrown your way.
Over dinner that evening, as we swapped tales of our day with Vera and Steve, they shared their fears about their grandchildren, who were approaching their GCSEs.
It dawned on me that being able to get away and leave your worries at home is more precious than ever.
And particularly for the older generation, who have more worries right now than most, the camaraderie of a coach trip could be the perfect remedy.