I’m not one to normally listen in to other people’s
conversations, but when you are on a walking trip and the weather is ugly,
eavesdropping can be more fun than walking. So this morning, with the wind blowing
the rain sideways onto the breakfast room windows, I listened attentively as
one of the guests discussed the Ullswater Steamer with the innkeeper.
Sara and her friends were headed to Shap, just as I was. I leaned
my ear towards her to better hear the conversation.
The innkeeper said there were two alternatives: one was to
slog along the traditional route for 17 miles over a high, wet, windy and muddy
ridge; the second was to ride the steamboat 8 miles to Pooley Bridge, and then
walk an easy trail 10 miles to Shap. Steamboats are a close second to steam
trains on my fun scale. I leaned a little closer.
The innkeeper said that Alfred Wainwright, the guru of
walking in England, often took the steamboat on his treks. I idolize Wainwright
almost as much as I idolize Shackleton, so if a steamboat was good enough for
Wainwright, it would be good enough for me. It didn’t much matter that the
boats are now powered by diesel, they are still called steamers, so that should
count for something. By this time my ear was closing in on Sara’s cereal bowl.
“Would there happen to be room for one more person on the
steamer?” I asked non-chalantly.
“The steamer holds 200 passengers, so there will be ample
room on today’s sailing,” replied the innkeeper. Just then, two Canadians
sitting at an adjacent table looked at each other with a silent nod of mutual
understanding. I wasn’t the only eavesdropper. “Leave here by 9:00, and you can
get to the pier by 9:25 and catch the 9:45 sailing.”
The room’s air pressure dropped noticeably as a half-dozen
guests raced for the door.
Despite the winds, the one-hour cruise to Pooley Bridge was
smooth and comfortable. As the scenery unfolded, we chatted with one another
and with other passengers. Tracy wasn’t hiking today, but rather reminiscing
about having recently swum the length of Ullswater, 14 kilometers in 5 hours.
She is training to swim the English channel, and is in the process of
swimming all the lakes in the Lake District. The longest, Windermere, at 17
kilometers, is next on her agenda. We all wish her luck in her endeavor.
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| Tracy |
At Pooley Bridge, I disembarked along with Leo and Lynn,
from Yukon, David and Sara, from Washington D.C., and Dennis from Austin. (I
may have gotten some of that mixed up, but since we’re all walking the same
route over the next few days, I’m sure they’ll correct me.) Because the steamer
route was a last minute itinerary change, I was the only one with a map.
(Dennis conjured up a map on his smartphone, but Wainwright wouldn’t approve,
so that doesn’t count.)
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| Leo, Dave, Sara, Lynn, and Dennis |
Our route took us through the hamlet of Bampton and past Shap
Abbey, dating from 1199, but destroyed by Henry VIII in 1540 when he split with
the pope. Perhaps he thought the monks were eavesdropping on him.
.
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| A moor bigh as art |
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| Church in Bampton |
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| Shap Abbey |
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