Just because I think Cumbria is so wonderful,
and I was born here,
and eventually found my way back,
I have this odd thread of thought that everyone knows about it.
Lets face it if Renée Zellweger makes a film set in a place,
and Countryfile reveres it,
how many people are there left?
Ok, I know that doesn’t cover the worlds populace but it didn’t stop me being surprised when I was travelling last year and I found people who had never hear of this rocky bit of land. Not just Asians, I’d figured the news might not get that far. But Australians, Americans even Europeans. Never heard of it!
Maybe a good thing. Perhaps you think we have far too many visitors anyway. I know I do sometimes. If I don’t make it out the door early on a summer weekend and have to join a tourist queue.. or find I get to the top of a hill only to discover the mighty hoards have got there before me.
Back to those who don’t know.
Saturday I took a few bodies. Alive ones. Over a hill, Lingmoor, through the gap on Side Pike, around Blea Tarn and over the delightful Slater Bridge. All this ties to paragraph one as, in the group were Ester, from Spain and Marine from France.
Both here working for a while.
I’d love to know who Eric is?
Both ignorant of the Lake District before they’d got their jobs.
Both surprised at what they found.
Thankfully in a good way. What’s more their friends and families had never heard of the place either. Add to that when they posted pictures up their friends, family or acquaintances thought they were in the Alps or Norway.
So as well as acting as guide, I enthused about the scenery, the colours and rambled on about the wonderful bridge where one day, I’m sure, a Troll will show his face, despite not being Norway.
A day washed more in autumn gold than bathed in sunshine, it was a delight to share, even if part of me would rather keep it all a secret.
More about Lingmoor here and here