Middle-aged flash packers

It was agreed that a less strenuous day was required so we decided to have a gander at Wordsworth’s birthplace, which just happens to be 5 minutes walk away from our abode.

Run by the National Trust, it is immaculate and full of intriguing bits of information regarding Wordsworth’s life. Here, in a nutshell, are the most interesting bits (according to me anyway):

His mother passed away when he was 7 years old, then his father died 6 years later.

The house was tied so William was sent to live with his mother’s family and experienced school for the first time.

His sister Dorothy (they were very close) was sent away after the death of her mother and didn’t see her father again. It was 9 years later that she saw William again.

The trauma of their early life affected both of them and Dorothy became addicted to laudanum.

Coleridge was a great friend of theirs who was also an opium addict.

Rock and Roll. We were so fascinated, we have now booked to visit Dove Cottage in Grasmere , where William and Dorothy lived as young adults. More info tomorrow!

While we were in the house, Bill (one of the volunteers) told us about his heart attack on the top of Grasmoor fell. He was 37, no mobile phones in those days. He had to walk back to civilisation on his own. He hiked the same route we did. Unbelievable! Made of tough stuff round here.

Talking about tough stuff, we decided to take a trip out to Whitehaven to see the sea. What looked like a pretty harbour town in the photos, turned out to be depressingly down at heel. There were some very intimidating characters lurking about, and the people sitting around the half-heartedly spruced up harbour area were mainly druggies.

This made me think about the so-called “red wall”, the divide between Northern England and the South.

My observations both now and over the years are that there is an ever widening gap between the “haves” and “have-nots” within the North itself. Much hand-wringing has gone on about the wealth of the South, but actually if you have a good job up north, you have so much more disposable income. As an example, in the town car park (not the tourist car park), there was a Maserati, 2 brand new BMW’s and numerous new cars. People coming to get their parking tickets were well dressed and well groomed. Contrast this with the down and outs wandering around the sea front and the general air of decay in the town and you are left asking yourself how the hell do we sort this? Forget the North-South divide, it’s a North-North divide.

A quick stroll up to the dilapidated lighthouse and we were done.

Next stop St Bees beach. Very reminiscent of Pembrokeshire – grass covered cliffs fringing the sea. Very pretty. Very cold.

We bought ourselves hot chocolates from the seaside cafe but I didn’t hold out much hope for the quality when I saw the measly scoop of ice cream given to the woman in front of us. We think the young lad serving was on a profit sharing bonus. Our hot chocolates were mainly water. No wonder everyone goes to Cornwall.

And now to the Wainwright of the day. I’m afraid my ambitious target of 20-23 Wainwrights by the end of the week has been blown out of the water. Never mind, we managed to get to Sale Fell. An exhilarating steep but short walk up to the top gave us misty but atmospheric views. Sadly the walk down gave us rain and limping.

But all in all, a stimulating day!

And the quote from Mr W today: “how much there is to learn about this fair earth and how little we know! How much beauty is never seen!”

Spot on as always.