About Me

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Hi! I'm Eunice and I live in Bolton, Lancashire, with my two dogs Sophie and Sugar and an assortment of cats - well it used to be Sophie and Sugar, now it's Sophie and Poppie. I first began camping back in 1997 when my then partner took me to Anglesey for my birthday weekend. We slept in the back of the car - a hatchback - using the cushions off the settee at home as a mattress, and cooked and brewed up on a single burner camping stove. The site was good, the views were great, the weather fantastic and I was completely hooked. Following that weekend we got a two-man tent and some proper accessories and returned to Anglesey two weeks later, then over time we progressed to a three-man tent followed by an old trailer tent, then a new trailer tent, a campervan and finally a caravan. When my partner decided that the grass was greener on the other side of the street - literally - in April 2009 and I suddenly found myself alone after fifteen years, I decided there was no way I was going to give up camping and caravanning if I could cope on my own. This blog is the story of my travels, trials and tribulations since becoming a solo camper - I hope you like it

Saturday June 22nd 2019 - Kirkstile Inn, St. Bartholomew's Church & Loweswater

Another sunny morning arrived but with more clouds around than previously but they were broken clouds which can often be good for photography, although it may mean that I would occasionally have to wait for the sun to reappear from behind them. My day out this time was to Loweswater as my '111 Places' book said it was one of the smaller lakes in the Lake District; at just over a mile long and less than half a mile wide at its widest point it was possible to walk all the way round it, also there was an inn near there which may be worth a photo or two.

Driving down the A5086 on my way to Egremont the previous day I'd noticed a sign for Loweswater pointing down a 'B' road on the left so that's the way I went and it wasn't long before the lake came into view. There was a long roadside lay-by not far from the top end of the lake but it was full of cars so I decided to check out the inn first; I'd gone quite a distance past the bottom end of the lake before I came to a single storey building with a parking area behind it where notices said 'Competitors and spectators only'. 

It turned out that this was the village hall and I'd arrived in the middle of a '5 in 5' race where runners had to tackle five fells in five hours with the hall being the start and finish of the race. Not being sure of where else I could park, and with the road past the hall being fairly narrow, I decided to leave the van there, so to justify being there I went round to the front of the building and spent some time watching some of the runners as they arrived back from the race before I went in search of the inn, which turned out to be just a few minutes walk further down the road.


The Kirkstile Inn dates back to the 17th century and is a typical Lakeland coaching inn, a sprawling building with whitewashed walls and black window mouldings and set in a pleasant garden above the River Cocker. It doesn't seem to have much history attached to it and I suspect it's only featured in the book because it's well known for its own real ale and good food.


Across the lane from the inn was St. Bartholomew's Church which I discovered was open to visitors. The original small plain Lakeland chapel was built in 1827 and consecrated in 1829, then some years later a lead mine was opened in the vicinity and the village's population was expected to expand greatly. In 1884 the chapel was extensively enlarged and improved with very little of the earlier building remaining, but unfortunately the mine failed and the population stayed static. The church is a very simple place with plain windows, the only nod to any stained glass being the red border round each one, but it's a pleasant little place to spend a while.


Back up the hill I collected the van from behind the village hall and drove back up to the lay-by beyond the top end of the lake and luckily there was plenty of space to park by then. A gate at the end of the lay-by took me to a footpath across a couple of fields to a lane which led to a farm, then another footpath took me down towards the lakeside where the views began to appear, getting better as I walked along.


Eventually the path left the lakeside and took me through a forested area known as Holme Wood before emerging back onto flat open land by the lake with the fells in the distance and where a dinghy was moored by a little shingle beach - or maybe it was partially sunk as it was almost completely full of water. A gravel track led across the open land, eventually taking me to a narrow lane which in turn led back to the 'B' road where I could see the village hall a short distance down on the right.


I'd actually emerged onto the road some distance from the bottom end of the lake so I had quite a long walk back to the van; mostly it was along the road above the lake but there was one point where I found a faint path through the trees and managed to scramble down to the lakeside to get a couple more shots. The road seemed to go on for ever and I began to think I would never get back to the van but eventually I rounded a bend and could see the beginning of the lay-by up ahead, and there was the van waiting patiently in the sunshine for me.


During the length of time we'd been walking round the lake the clouds had lifted to the point where it had become exceptionally warm, and though I could have gone on to somewhere else I felt we had walked far enough for one day, so after a good drink of water for the dogs and a not-very-cold can for myself I decided to head back to the camp site to relax and think about where we were going to go to the following day.