Motivational t-towels, & 50p Rich Tea biscuits

I returned from a break in Scotland to find that everything had changed. Well. Perhaps not everything. But certainly the laundry system had been revolutionised. I wasn't used to a life of such advancement and luxury. Although, to be fair, sleeping in the back of a van and waking up to nothing at all but the most incredible sunrise is just about as luxurious as you can get. Plus, when there is no one else around to smell you, the need for a shower doesn't seem so pressing. The weather was decidedly un-Scottish, and there were other unforeseen joys such as a 50p packet of Rich Tea biscuits from the Spar shop in Scourie (the seagulls were complimentary). I pulled over one day to take a photo of Quinag, and before I knew it I was walking up it. I met a lady on the summit who, I found out, plays badminton around the corner from my mum's. Any notion of it being a small world was soon dispelled when I then met a couple from California who I had absolutely no previous connection to at all. It seemed to be a week characterised by meeting interesting people, and then going through long periods of seeing no one at all. The north west coast of Scotland is stunningly beautiful, raw, exposed, and an utterly terrible landscape for when you're outside and need the loo. Where's a bloody tree when you need one?!   

I was able to pick up the odd bit of phone signal and internet while I was away. This was rather lucky as I had a message from Rachel asking if it was ever acceptable to buy underwear for your work colleague. I think this was merely an afterthought though, as she had already purchased me a pair of Where's Wally? knickers (with a pirate ship theme). It was really quite tempting to abandon my holiday right there and rush straight back to Eskdake.  But, alas, I still hadn't found a suitable addition to the hostel's motivational t-towel collection (without which I reckoned they wouldn't let me back in the door). The week before, Rachel had been telling us all of her vision; a cupboard full of t-towels from all over the world. Mick had fully got on board with this, and decided that it would be a good way to inspire the workforce (and even better if they were educational). It was even declared to all the hostels across the North, that Eskdale staff were currently being motivated by place names of the Cotswolds. I have warned him however that this initiative could well backfire and cause serious in-hostel fighting - because no one is going to want to do anything other than the drying up anymore. 

The weather started to turn on the west coast, so I packed up and headed east -to Aviemore to visit family. I still slept in my van (through choice), but it was lovely to spend the evenings indoors and witness arguments as to who was the most deserving of Jarlsberg cheese. It has become a home from home for me there, and as such it was no surprise that I had the best nights sleep of the week up by Loch Morlich. It took me a while to realise that I was in a van when I woke up, and I got madly excited when a load of pine needles blew into my bowl of breakfast cereal. It was back to Eskdale not long after that, via many service stations (I'd drunk a lot of tea) and Gretna Green to get a couple of t-towels.

That smells like the best Twiglet ever!

Spent my days off doing a spot of hostel hopping around the Lakes. Keswick again for football, then a night at Windermere which featured the purplest sunset I have ever seen. Somewhere in between all that I called into Kendal to get windows put in the back of my van, and made use of having phone signal by Facebook messaging Evie Plumb. My favourite writer is a plumber from Sheffield. & all I've ever read of his is the occasional Facebook status about yodel deliveries and geraniums. It's a special talent to be able to generate interest in something like that - most other people would have you asleep in seconds. I don't think he has any idea just how good he is. But that's a slight digress from Evie asking me if I'd like to write for Eskdale Now! - an Eskdale based monthly newspaper (run by herself & Tom-Tom). It's always a compliment to be asked, and especially so when the person asking is as creatively talented as Evie. I was listening to her band's (LOWES) debut single on YouTube the other day, and let me tell you, it's really something. I wouldn't put them in the same musical genre as Chris de Burgh, but don't let that put you off. Speaking of C de B - I hit the charity shops of Kendal whilst waiting for my van windows to be installed, and I thought I'd struck gold when I found a best of Chris de Burgh album for only £1. But when I opened the case and saw that the CD missing, a little part of me died inside. 

 

I was on my way back to Eskdale when I received a voicemail from Rachel. The first part reminded me a little bit of those birthday cards which, when opened, sing a recorded message to you. "Oh come with me to the rolling sea where the weather's calm and still....hello Ki-Ki-Deeee!" But then the singing stopped, and Rachel asked in her most serious voice if I could pick up seven loaves of brown bread, some ham, chicken, and cheese. I figured that either Mick was really really hungry, or the sandwich delivery hadn't arrived. Mick and Rachel had returned from Scotland the previous evening, and I was super excited to see them again (and super proud that I hadn't blown up the hostel in their absence). One of the first things Rachel told me about their holiday was how she had mistaken the packet of ginger biscuits I had given her for plain regular oatcakes. That in itself wasn't too much of a problem, but it made for interesting eating when she put a thick layer of cheese & chive pâté on top. Jo however was not to be outdone by this, "well I've put chocolate covered Kendal mint cake in my porridge. I thought it was actual cake, and when I discovered it was just a bar of sugar it was the biggest disappointment of my life. But, it needs eating so I thought I'd try it in cereal." I didn't really know how to respond to all this, so I quietly offered Rachel a Marmite rice cake to try. I'm not quite sure what she made of the taste of it, but she had no hesitancy in declaring, "that smells like the best Twiglet ever!" 

I had a near death experience the following day. I'd gone out to the Solar Garden to hang up my washing when I saw an Adder sunning itself on the gravel. I somehow managed to get Rachel's attention (who was inside the hostel somewhere) by calmly saying, "there's a snake!" Rachel arrived just in time to see its tail disappearing into a bush. When I saw Mick later I told him about the snake, and said that he would have been very impressed with how cool I was about the situation, given my fear of them. 

"Oh really? I saw Rachel, and she told me that you'd been screaming your head off?!" 

Fiona's Theory of Everything (& our wonderful neighbours)

I went training with Keswick FC Ladies, and absolutely loved it. There was more chat and banter in the first five minutes than there had been the entire time at Whitehaven the previous week. Plus, there was no one suggesting that because I am good at kick-ups that I must be a bloke. In fact, now that I think about it, it probably rates as one of my most positive footballing experiences ever. I stayed the night at YHA Keswick - still undergoing repairs after the devastating floods, but very much back on its feet. I have stayed there a few times many years ago, and it brought back happy memories as well as feeling happy for the present. It was great to meet Ellie (once taken dress shopping by Fiona) who was working the late shift, and to wander around town which was decorated to celebrate the Tour of Britain passing through. The following morning I drove down to Derbyshire to play in a YHA charity 5-aside football tournament. But, to cut a long story short, they hadn't informed me of the change of date, so there was no football to be played that day. Sure, it was a long way to travel, but as I sat outside YHA Hathersage (where I spent the night) watching some bats fly about, I thought to myself 'well, nothing for nothing'. And the next day I drove back over Snake Pass with Frank Sinatra on loud. 

It might go down as my favourite late & early shift ever - the night we had a Sean Connery lookalike and his three friends come to stay. They were all so down to earth, friendly, and funny. At breakfast I mentioned something about the Sean Connery likeness, and it was obviously a running joke between them. 'Sean' asked if his mate had put me up to it, but I assured him that no, you really do look like him! His mate then told me that it wasn't just his face, but his chest also looked like Sean Connery's, and he'd probably show me if I wanted to see it?! Well. That was all a bit much for me....so I muttered something about needing to check on the tomatoes, and disappeared into the kitchen. 

We had a slight mid-week freezer crisis; one of our main freezers decided that it had pretty much had enough (& wanted to be a fridge). This problem was exacerbated by the arrival of the food order, and there was just not enough room for everything (despite our best attempts to play freezer Tetris). However....the Woolpack Inn came to our very great rescue - saving seven boxes of frozen chocolate fudge cake (and other goods) from ruin. We really can't thank you enough. 

Fiona has developed an obsession with Grey's Anatomy (I believe her friend Becca is to blame). I'm not convinced she is actually getting any sleep at night - judging by the number of plot updates she gives us each morning. She keeps asking me to pass her a scalpel, when what she really wants is a wooden spoon or a ladle. Our kitchen is no longer a kitchen - it's an operating theatre. Although, this is potentially less concerning than the new Grey's Anatomy inspired theory that she has developed to explain pretty much everything in life. "It's really quite simple, K." Fiona began as I was getting all tangled up in a double duvet cover. "Basically, if there's something not quite right with you, it means you need brain surgery. But try to get the type which you can remain awake for - then you can stare into eyes of Doctor McDreamy." She went on to list a whole range of scenarios, from breaking your leg at an imaginary football tournament to having a slight cold, which could all be explained by having something wrong with your brain cells. She concluded by saying, "I feel so much better about life now that I've realised this. Next time someone is acting strangely around me I won't take it personally - I'll just know that they need an operation on their frontal lobe." Then she wandered off, leaving me standing there looking like a green ghost with the duvet cover now draped over my head. 

Why aren't there any navy blue cats?

I've been carrying a piece of paper around in my pocket for a few days now. All it has written on it is, 'Why aren't there any navy blue cats?' To be honest with you, I haven't actually made any attempt to find out - it's just a nice sort of a question to keep in mind, don't you think? There probably isn't much of an answer anyway, but I'm sure there's an academic somewhere who has studied for years just so they would be qualified to say 'well, there aren't any because there aren't any.' Which is pretty much as deep as you can get. I better remember to take the piece of paper out of my pocket when I put my clothes in the wash. 

It's a good day for drying laundry outside today. Not at all like yesterday. People were sat around inside playing scrabble, and when I asked one gentleman how he was, he replied, "I've got a soggy bottom." The distinction in weather aside, I'm having difficulty distinguishing between the days at the moment. There is so much going on that everything seems to blur into one. I do remember being in Whitehaven last Wednesday, though. Mostly because I purchased a ball launcher from Aldi (which was reduced & is absolutely brilliant), and because I had a conversation with a Whitehaven resident - a section of which went like this: 

"Where are you from?"

"Eskdale."

"Where's that?"

"About 45 minutes away, through Gosforth?" 

Blank expression. 

"Not too far from Wastwater and Scafell Pike?"

Blank expression. 

"In the Lake District National Park?" 

Blank expression . 

"Oh. Don't worry about it." 

I was beginning to wonder if I had dreamt it all, and was wondering more deeply still whether I would ever escape Morrison's - such was the wealth of end-of-the-day reduced products to peruse. I eventually opted for a 5p loaf of gluten free fruit bread for Fiona, but decided that I absolutely must ask for the money up front (or charge interest at a penny a day). I explained all this to her later (she gave me 6p the following morning), but she couldn't understand why they just didn't give them away free. "Well, Fiona. It's not a bargain if it's free, is it? And it would take away all the excitement." 

Mick and Rachel have gone away on holiday for a week. But their pre-departure was not without drama. Mick was desperately searching the kitchen for a roll of sellotape. "Oh why does it have to be so difficult to find? I know it's see-through but still...." I don't know if he ever actually found some. Rachel meanwhile was busy researching the lyrics to the Portland Bill theme tune, & threatening to body check anyone that went within two metres of the washing machine. The usual last minute holiday essentials. Rachel was really cheerful when she came to say goodbye....."We're only an hour and a half late leaving. That's a record for Mick. Once it was six hours before he was finally ready."