Hawes to Windermere

Not fancying a night under canvass (wimp), P joined us late last night for our last night in Burnsall. Too late for dinner he had to make do with the remains of S's chocolate pudding (no small quantity). Any hunger pangs he may have suffered were surely banished this morning when he managed both the full cooked breakfast (always a treat here at the Red Lion) and a bowl of their raspberry porridge. Hat's off to the man.

S in contrast was defeated by her basket of fresh baked breakfast pastries, which in what appears to have been a game of chicken with the kitchen, had increased in quantity each morning she ordered it. Day One saw one croissant and about 3 mini pastries/pain au chocolat, Day Two saw a 50% increase and the same increase compounded on Day 3, resulting in about 2 large croissant and 7 mini pastries etc. Presumably if one stays long term they extend their oven facilities rather than admit defeat.

Sadly even the fabulous breakfasts can't disguise the fact that the dry throat and runny nose that I started with last night is developing into a pretty nasty cold.

Still, with stomachs fully sated we check out and pick a scenic route to the Lakes.

First stop Hawes, where the weather like my nose has its needle stuck on wet. We get no further than the creamery, but hey with cheese that good why go elsewhere? We grab a drink in the cafe and admire the interior decorating initiative that decided to hang a large photo on our wall, that captured the view of...well the other part of the cafe frankly. Still I suppose it saves you turning your head...

Heading on the weather improves (even if my health doesn't) and the sun is almost making an effort as we queue for the car ferry at Nab Head.

As I stand on the edge of the jetty a gentleman from a vehicle a few back in the queue wanders up and asks "do you know where the ferry goes?".

Unsure how quite to answer (we're staring at the small strait across which the cable ferry is clearly making its way), I reply with as little sarcasm as possible "err to the other side of the lake". "Oh right" he replies apparently satisfied with this as a perfectly adequate response. I attempt to be helpful and explain what he'll find over the other side, offer a view of a road atlas and confirm that yes he can indeed drive round the lake to get back if he chooses.

After a few minutes of discussing the weather, how high the lake is, the surrounding area of the district etc he asks "so where is Lake Windermere from here then?".

Covering that as best I can by motioning at the 10 miles of lake that is spread out in front of us and successfully managing to avoid using the sound "dur!" at any point, he confesses he's ignorant of the area (no shit Sherlock!) and explains "I've just come up from Kent with the caravan" he says motioning back to the queue of vehicles.

As I glance back up the queue I can't help but note that his four by four is bereft of anything on its towbar.

Should I say something?