Beginnings

This place is remarkable. Everything about it. I drove in, as evening was drawing to a close, over the Wrynose and Hardknott passes. I had turned my music off, wound the windows down, and all I could hear were waterfalls, the last few birds, and the sound of my car engine overheating slightly. Any notion I may have had for attempting to cycle these particular hills has been firmly quashed! I think I would even have to dismount for part of the descent. The views from the top are absolutely stunning, though. You can see the road winding down in front of you for miles, as the steepness gives way to the comparatively  flat valley bottom. It is a landscape more dramatic, more beautiful, than I ever imagined. The dry stone walls, the rugged fells, the wind bent trees, all breaths survival, all breaths life. 

I arrived at the centre to a warm welcome. Rachel, who runs the centre alongside her husband, Mick, announced that my timing was perfect - she had just put the kettle on. I also met Fiona, who like me, is here until the end of October. Then there is Benji, who I only saw briefly that first evening. He is volunteering here until the end of April, as part of his course requirements for university in Malaysia. Benji speaks excellent English already, but over the coming days I would share with him such British delights as 'tea towel', 'top tip', and 'tip top'. He looked non the wiser after my attempted explanation of the latter. 

My room is pretty much perfect. It's at an out of the way corner of the hostel, and I can hear, and see, Blea Beck from my window. The shower is a bit of a trickle, and it takes a good five minutes to get hot water, but that just gives you time to do something else while you wait. Time has already become a changed concept here. When I'm on shift, the work is constant and satisfying, so that passes quickly (or at least without any clock watching). A job is done when it's done, and when it's done it is done. Which for me, makes everything seem much more enjoyable. Work is work. Free time is free time. All is good. It feels like I've been here a lot longer than I have. I already have a sense of freedom from the obligations of the internet, TV, etc. It's amazing how much energy and time goes into keeping up. I have sent a couple of letters, though, and received a lovely Easter card from my dad and step-mum. Despite the isolation here, I don't think I'll ever feel lonely. I enjoy my own company, and I enjoy the company of the staff team. And then there is all the different guests to meet, who share a bit of their lives, a bit of their adventures with you, as they come, and go. It's early days, I haven't even been here a week, but sometimes you just know when a place, a time, and your present state of mind have coincided perfectly. 

Greetings from The Woolpack Inn, & Happy Easter to you all! 

A new adventure

It wasn't part of the plan. And the plan, if there ever was such a thing, was to carry on doing more or less exactly what I've always done. Which is fine for many, and once upon a time it would have been fine for me, too. In fact, I would even say that continuity, security, and familiarity were essential. But something has changed over the past year or so. I can't quite say what, but I do know that I have never experienced such a sense of contentment, nor such a joy at being alive. Last week I was cycling around Loch Leven, Glencoe, and I felt so happy I had to stop and have a little sit down. Sure, I still get moments of sadness, and times when I'm real low down. But that's just a part of being alive, another experience or emotion to observe and embrace. So tomorrow, I'm off to the Lake District, to live and work at YHA Eskdale until the end of October. I've been super excited about the prospect of it ever since the recruitment weekend a month or so ago. The thing that struck me most about the organisation was the people - open, honest, passionate, kind, and deeply human. I went away from there with no doubt in my mind that I wanted to work for the YHA, and in the Lake District - a most beautiful part of the world. It was the remoteness of Eskdale that really drew me. An eco-centre, nestled beneath England's highest mountain, Scafell Pike. There is no phone signal, no wifi, and the only public transport is a steam train. I am not under any illusion that I won't miss having social media, the internet, and the like, at my fingertips. But I do believe that all this is something we have become accustomed to; it is not of course something we need. I'm looking forward to experiencing a depth of communication, and face to face interactions, that we seem to deny ourselves with the ever constant distractions of technology. I am also looking forward to immersing myself in the surrounding natural beauty, to explore every river, tarn, waterfall, and walk the valley bottoms and mountain tops. My presence on the internet will be vastly reduced over the coming months (plus texts and phone calls), but I will be updating this blog when connection and circumstance allow. I will also be writing more letters to family and friends, and a reminder of my address, should you wish to contact me via post: YHA Eskdale, Boot, Holmrook, Cumbria, CA19 1TH. And, of course, you could always come and visit!! Lots of love, K xxx