When we told people we were going to the Lake District, everyone waxed lyrical about its beauty. I thought there was no way it could live up to the hype. Not for the first time, I was proved wrong.
We spent a week making plans more ambitious than our legs could keep up with, climbing peaks and pedalling over passes. We had the odd reassuring comment from weathered old cyclists along the lines of “not bad for southern softies” and spent our evenings flaked out on the couch and poring over maps for the next day’s adventures.
We stayed in the quiet Eskdale Valley, complete with grand hills, whistling steam trains, classic pubs, and very few tourists. A week here is just long enough to fall in love with the place and realise how soon we need to return and explore more. We will be back.
PS Thank you Tom for taking all the holiday snaps! My life would be a blank memory card without you.