The Only One You Can Trust

We have an enforced lie in, due to the heavy rain outside the tent. No one’s complaining though, least of all the dogs and it is after all, all rather romantic. Plus there’s the added bonus that I’ve located the tent well and we’re in no danger whatsoever of being swept away by a river bursting its banks.

The weather though, is still a bit grim. So not only is my calf preventing an assault on the fells, the weather is too. Visibility is nil on the hills. We stick to a low level walk along the valley floor. It's a wet but enjoyable walk. After all, there’s something rather beautiful about an underwater Lake District. Some interesting rivers have formed where there weren't rivers before. What were once footpaths I believe?

We have a chuckle at a chap who we see pursuing his dog over the Lakeland hillside, as his dog pursues a flock of sheep. Bet he doesn’t agree with Cheryl Cole and the one in five people who agreed with her in a Kennel Club survey that their dog is the ‘only one that they can trust.’ Where do all these people get their trustworthy dogs from? Is there a special shop?



We take in the odd pit stop, a coffee shop one where L treats us to some absurdly unhealthy cakes. So much so that we have to walk those calories off on the way to the next stop, The Britannia Inn. Doggo clearly thinks that’s it for the day now and tries to snuggle up on one of the chairs in the Inn. Just what they need on their upholstery, wet muddy dog.



It’s only a stop off though; soon we carry on a bit further before retiring to... another pub. Where decent food and a pretty good new beer from the Keswick Brewery, Thirst Fall a malty 4.8er% prevail.

After several of which we head back to the tent, with the weather now much brighter, if such a thing is possible after nightfall, to crash out. The dogs snuggle up one either side of us, it is actually very cosy. Well I think so anyway.