“I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host, of golden daffodils …”
These words tumble out of me like a waterfall whenever William Wordsworth is mentioned - thanks to Ms. Nair, my much feared but enlightened Form 2 English teacher. The poem began to make perfect sense when I found out that William Wordsworth lived in the Lake District, which I know from reputation to be a paradise of an English countryside.
When we decided to make a road trip to the Lakes – our furthest so far - I can’t help but imagine warm sunshine, cloudy skies, uninterrupted views of vales and hills, and us prancing around undulating meadows carpeted with daffodils.
Sunrise just outside our B&B at Scales Farm, near Keswick in the Lake District
Needless to say, Murphy’s Law reigned. It didn’t help that we chose to go in late October, during a relentless stretch of rainy days. We had one sunny day out of the four, and that was after we had left the Lake District and was loitering around the medieval city of York. The rest of the time, we were caught in on-off showers, challenged by the raging countryside wind, and held battle with foggy road conditions.
One minute it was clear; the next minute, the mist had enveloped the road behind us
Having said that, the elements gave the place a different flavour (the landscape was a mixed bag of drama, reality and romanticism) and a reason to return.
This shot had better be good, coz Sophie & I had to endure wet and cold winds and the driving rain for it...
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