A long time coming

For the first time in months I'm starting to feel like myself again. I can only describe what has characterised this time, rather than trying to explain what actually happened. Even then it is not easy to say, as the characterisation is more a feeling than anything that can be put into words. Throughout this period I have often found myself unable to voice my unhappiness, a feeling of perhaps not being able to think freely (or at least being unable to think dispassionately). In my mind I could not separate out something that should be good from something that wasn't actually good (for me). But you cling onto the good you can see, and before you know it you've accepted a lot of things that aren't good as being ok. It creates a huge amount of inner turmoil when you want something to work out but this same thing is causing a great deal of worry and stress. I was finding that my anxiety levels would build to the point where I would just breakdown, and any joy for life was contained and subdued. On the face of it though life carried on as normal; I've been going to work, playing football, running and skinny dipping, and spending time with friends and family. But all of this was a mere shadow to what it had been, my mind was often elsewhere (pulled in a thousand directions) and the true, full experience of life seemed to be passing me by. One way or another a breaking point was coming, and even a week ago I was sure that the breaking point had broken me. When your greatest vulnerabilities are spoken against you, you perhaps naturally think that you'll never be able to trust anyone ever again. That for me was my humanity gone, and I really couldn't see any point in carrying on. What (now) seems entirely contradictory was that I was able to share those thoughts with a good friend and someone from my family. It wasn't a case of them having to 'talk me down', but in simply speaking to them I realised that I did trust, and could trust, and love. While I know that I will experience a whole range of mixed emotions for a while to come, there is a lightness and happiness again that has been a long time coming.  

I was unsure how much if any of this to share, but I cannot write without that element of honesty. Not in a blog that is little more than a documentation of my experience of life anyway. I have lost track of the number of times I have started to try and write a blog post. But each time I started I found that the words were devoid of emotion. This is where my emotions were focused instead, and now this told, I can begin again to tell of other things. 

I'm actually in Borrowdale at the moment - a change of scenery for my days off, sleeping in my van, & catching up with the folk here. A game of pitch and putt was organised for this morning, and even though Glen is away on holiday in Canada we thought it sensible to warn him to look out for stray balls. He was most grateful that we alerted him, as he wasn't sure that he was at the minimum safe distance. I drove Bianca into Keswick (she didn't want the worry of 'un-parking' at the other end), & Rhys and Clare joined us there. For once I had managed to organise a staff sporting activity in dry weather! This was mentioned more than once (it seems that no one has forgotten the torrential rain last time we played, nor the hail storm during our Quidditch match). The golf course was a little busier than when we played in winter, so it was probably a good job that Hanna and her 10 'practice' swings has gone off travelling! I really do miss not being offered a cup of tea made with out of date milk though! It was a fun morning, and pretty successful all round. Bianca didn't fall over, Rhys won, but Claire didn't have to buy Rhys a van (as he never got a hole in one), and I only lost 2 balls (they didn't quite reach Canada so Glen was safe). I'm back to Eskdale tomorrow, and all the ongoing craziness! It's not possible to fill in all the gaps and recount everything that has happened there since I last wrote a blog post, but it remains the most special of places with the most wonderful (mad) people. 

An unfortunate day for the sandwich delivery man, & the many talents of Mick Blamires

I came into work on Monday morning, and the first thing Mick said to me was, "The sandwich order is stuck up Hardknott Pass, they had to call out Mountain Rescue." Not yet being fully awake, the first image that came into my head was of the Wasdale MR team airlifting several packets of tuna and sweetcorn sandwiches to safety. My mind had bypassed the fact that there was obviously a vehicle and a driver involved. Thankfully there was no damage to either, although when the driver was finally able to make it down the valley he told us that this day had stressed him to the max. It was only later that we were able to find out the full extent of things. Not only did he need rescuing from Hardknott Pass, it turns out that while he was making a delivery to the hostel in Coniston, unbeknown to him the manager's cat had jumped into the van whilst the door was open for unloading. It wasn't until he reached the hostel at Langdale and reopened the door that the cat jumped out, naturally giving him quite a fright! It was perhaps unsurprising that it was a different gentleman delivering the sandwiches on Wednesday! 

Mick is a man of many talents, but these past few weeks he has somehow managed to exceed himself. It all started one pleasant evening when he picked up two green traffic cones and threw one of them up and caught it inside the other. This probably doesn't sound very impressive, but the video of it on the YHA Eskdale Facebook page has had over 200 views (which is practically viral by valley standards). Plus, everyone else struggled to replicate his success, even Fiona who, by her own admission, did have a very good tossing action. Mick's unique skill-set was further highlighted a few days later when he very proudly announced that he had got his average water ballon filling time down to 20 seconds per balloon (60 balloons filled in total). Rachel was somewhat doubtful at first..."Does that include the time taken to tie them up? Because you do know that it's quite important to tie them up?!" When Mick assured her that they were all tied up and ready to deploy, Rachel simply said, "In a fair world that would make you king." To top everything off, Mick found the missing key to the display cabinet in the dinning room (the contents of which we had all resigned to becoming antiques). He was especially pleased to discover that the lone packet of Starburst was only 4 years out of date, thus rendering them (in his mind) entirely edible. 

I was delighted that my friend Jane was able to come up and visit one weekend, especially as it turned out that she'd bought 2 packets of Percy Pigs for all the staff! Mick wasn't entirely sure about them, though. Not at first anyway. "I put one in my mouth and my initial thought was how disgusting it was. But by the time I was halfway through chewing it I had changed my mind slightly. After eating about 10 more I decided that they are actually really nice." And that is how the first packet disappeared before Rachel had even had chance to see them. The following morning at breakfast, Fiona was chatting to Jane, and I couldn't help but hear her ask, "What is that religion where you get to choose to come back as an animal?" I suggested that it might be Buddhism, to which Fiona added Hinduism, or maybe it's the Methodists who believe that. She didn't seem too concerned either way, but was in no doubt that she would come back as a well loved cat, or a chaffinch. 

Work has been pretty busy these past few weeks, and with other things going on, it's all so easy to get 'swept away' and washed up in some place where you don't really know your own mind anymore. Because of this I've been making more of a conscious effort to take some time, to go out running, walking, skinny dipping, or just to sit and think. One afternoon, clouds low down on the hills, I took a walk up to Eel Tarn. I could hear the birds singing, the wind, the beck flowing, and the endless silence that surrounds everything. And I knew that the silence was sadness, and that it had been and would always be there. For the beauty of life is also the sadness of life, and some days we are more attuned to one than the other. It is that knowledge beyond words, it is that melancholia or joy which can only be felt, that haunting realisation that all is futile and that both everything and nothing matters. It is perhaps in desperation of all this that one clings to a sense of freedom, but only a sense of it, for (as Dylan sang) even the birds are chained to the sky. So we make some big 'decisions', claim back what little of our mind we can, grieve our losses and the hurt we've caused -  then put it all down to experience and carry on much the same as before. What is it that we're doing here. It's obvious. I get back to the hostel and Rachel says, "Coo-eee Ki-Ki! Look what I bought - a bottle of alcohol free beer reduced to 43p. Do you think I should have got a few more?!" 

The return to Eskdale, & a Chris de Burgh concert

There are many trees, but there is one tree in particular outside YHA Eskdale which is ideally shaped and placed to rest ones back against, and enjoy the calming sight and sound of Blea Beck. It is there I am sat now, a month on from returning to Eskdale after a winter working in Borrowdale. My last days there are now only vague and strange memories - mostly of Bianca (Catering manager) sat at the table in the staff house eating ice cream cones that went out of date in 2013 (please note, these are not available on the new menu). Whilst I cannot deny that I was delighted to return to Eskdale, I will always deeply cherish the people I worked with, and the friends I made during my time in Borrowdale. As is always the case with special places and friendships - this is certainly not goodbye. In fact I was back there for a night only a few weeks after leaving - the perfect place to stay following an evening football match in Keswick. I was sad to have missed Zach, who earlier that morning had left to live and work in Shetland via Japan. But there were plenty of coo-eees from Dave, Glen, Ellie, Rhys, and Hanna....with a more normal sort of hello from Chris! In traditional Hanna style I was very kindly asked if I'd like a tea....quickly followed by the now familier words..."I think the milk might have gone off, but it's still ok to drink." 

My arrival back in Eskdale coincided with the start of the Easter madness. That said, the madness here seems to be ongoing, not just seasonal. It all got pretty philosophical at one point, though. Rachel was wandering around the kitchen one evening (unusually aimless), when she suddenly said, "I'm looking for something, but I'm not sure it exists.....yet." This, followed a few days later by a total rearrangement of the Tupperware section, & the creation of a new hot drinks station. All this I'm sure can be attributed to a period of reflection in her life after a certain incident which took place the week before. I came into work one morning to find Rachel looking ever so slightly put out. She shrugged her shoulders, and explained, "I was feeling rageful, and then I got a baked bean facial which just made me feel daft." I was quick to sympathise with her, whereas Fiona was more interested as to whether a baked bean facial was more beneficial to the skin that the Vitalite face mask which she often adorned straight after eating breakfast. 

One quieter evening at work, Mick asked if I wouldn't mind going through all the risk assessments for various things around the hostel. While I'm sure he was delighted with my thoroughness, I think that there may have been a small tinge of regret on his part due to my newfound way of looking at everything. This was particularly evident when I asked him, in all seriousness, why the Jam Roly Poly wasn't considered to be a high risk item? "Well, I hadn't really thought about it to be honest. But now that you mention it, I can see that it might be more hazardous if it was dropped on the floor in comparison to say the treacle sponge." Mick however stopped short of allowing me to include - 'Upon entering a room, one must always perform a visual sweep to check for stray Jam Roly Polys' - to every single risk assessment. 

Time has, at it is inclined to do, moved on a little since I started writing this post. It's a different day, and I'm sat in a different place, high up on one of the rocky crags behind the hostel. The weather is glorious, and I can see right down the valley to the Irish Sea, with the Isle of Man visible on the horizon. I can see the hostel, and the Woolpack, and it gives a sense of completeness - the people and the landscape. Everything that makes this place so special to me. I was absolutely delighted that some friends I worked with in Surrey (& whom I had not seen for near on two years) were able to come up and visit. The other Kirsten (I was working at the school first!), with baby, dog, & husband in tow, arrived in Eskdale before I was quite back from a few days away. They left a message/note with Fiona that they had gone to the legendary Woolpack, & that I should join them there for lunch! As well as friends and family coming to visit, there have been some pretty memorable guests staying at the hostel. There was the lovely gentleman who, when I asked what he did in Cambridge, replied, "I engineer chocolate and ball point pens." I bet the poor chap wished he had remained silent - I'm not sure that there are many things that Rachel, Fiona, and I are more passionate about! Then there was the group of 7 guys who were staying a night, walking up Scafell Pike, staying a night at Wasdale, before walking back to Eskdale for a 2nd night. They were slightly concerned to hear that it would be a more challenging walk than the one from the Woolpack to the hostel, and one of the group cheerfully informed me that if they didn't turn up on the 2nd night it would mean that they were dead, and I could have his Jaguar (but I would probably need to clean it). Thankfully though (despite missing out on a Jag), all seven men returned, & all in one piece. Their adventure was not without incident, though - they actually spent the intervening night eating a takeaway and sleeping at YHA Ennerdale because they had somehow managed to book a hostel in the Peak District (rather than Wasdale Hall). We were given full permission to take the mick. 

April 23rd 2017 was more than a date in the diary, it was one of those life enhancing occasions; it was the day I had tickets to see Chris de Burgh for the 5th time! The concert was in Liverpool, and my mum & I made a whole weekend of it. The excitement had been building for weeks and months, and it certainly wasn't a disappointment. We spent the afternoon wandering around Liverpool in glorious sunshine, & scheduled time for a quick stop in Primark to buy some thongs to throw onto the stage. The colour red was of course appropriate, whereas my mum's suggestion that we wear them over our trousers was anything but! The concert was everything we could have dreamed of, although my mum was slightly put out that I won Chris de Burgh Bingo. However, I should  have taken Rachel's advice, & done a spot of knicker pinging practice beforehand; my thong throwing skills were not the best, but Dave Levy (bass guitarist) did pick one of them up and put it on his microphone stand. Ooooffffff. Bloody love it!! 

A Quidditch match, and 2 weekends in the Highlands

The week I spent in Eskdale seems a world away now - looking after the hostel, the dog, & getting dragged out for ludicrously long runs by Harry. I loved it all though to be fair, even when his idea of 15km actually turned out to be 20.4km. Bianca came over to visit from Borrowdale for a night, and she hadn't been in the building even 5 minutes when she started routing through the kitchen admiring our nice serving dishes. I made a mental note to ask Chris whether he had dispatched Bianca on a secret inter-hostel 'borrowing' mission. Thanks to the recently installed wifi at YHA Eskdale I was able to get a message to Rachel in La Palma - "Asking for a friend...have you ever had trouble getting in the front door of your flat?!" Thankfully, I was able to send this after finding an alternative method of entering the building (with the help of a long ladder and a degree of flexibility). In between running, dog walking, skinny dipping, and watching in mild horror as the plumber ripped up the floorboards, it was great to spend some time down at the Woolpack. One particularly memorable afternoon was on Sunday, watching Spurs beat Fulham with Peter, Dave, Struan, John, Padds, & Harry. There was also time for a game of chess with Peter across the bar which was made all the more entertaining by some of the moves he tried to pull - "I don't know how to play really, I wouldn't even know how to cheat." The week ended in true YHA Eskdale style - 4am Monday morning sitting on the floor in a cold corridor chatting to Mick and Rachel about sandwich orders, and their being photo bombed by a UFO. It felt a lot like home.  

 

Getting back to Borrowdale it was so good to see Rhys again (after some winter leave), even if I did nearly trip over him as he was lying down in the middle of the staff lounge doing some post run stretching with Simon. Cleaning was taken to the next level with Dave & Simon one morning - we all found ourselves in the same area, and an impromptu game of Takeshi's Castle got underway! I was doing very well avoiding all sorts of obstacles, until Dave got me in the back with an empty laundry bag. Game over. 

The following day Chris said he had something to show me, & that he hadn't shown anyone else yet. Intrigued, I went into the office to find Paddy sat there on the floor. "No....I'm not showing you the dog!" A moment later he put a pair of glasses on, and asked what did I think?! They really did suit him, but it seemed that Chris already had a hang up about them. "Every time I see myself wearing them, I'm reminded of that Michael Douglas character in the film Falling Down....you know the one about the psycho who gets angry and goes around killing lots of people? Well I think I look exactly like him when I'm wearing these." I calmly enquired as to whether he thought it might become a self fulfilling prophecy, before hastily exiting the door (determined never to annoy Chris too much). 

One thing is for certain - there is rarely (if ever) a dull day in this place. Bianca helpfully pointed out to me one evening..."that is a tray of bacon." I should probably state at this point that there was absolutely no confusion on my part as to what was on the tray, or that it was a tray. However, I was extremely grateful for her thoughtfulness on the matter. I must admit that the excitement almost got too much for me one morning - I was entrusted with the bell, phone, and the bed making. & if that wasn't enough I was told to expect a call from someone delivering trees. I asked Tref where they were coming from....Brazil? "Yes....the Amazon rainforest is being relocated this morning. All you need for a rainforest is lots of trees and lots of rain." I agreed that Borrowdale would therefore be an ideal location....."do you think they'll throw in a couple of Toucans as well?! That'll really ramp up the tourism industry." 

On Thursday 2nd March the camping field at YHA Borrowdale was temporarily transformed into a Quidditch pitch. I spent the morning in a state of wild excitement, telling anyone who would listen about the near perfect weather conditions, the excellent air clarity, etc. I did have to warn Chris though that some Quidditch games have been known to last for 7 years, and that he should be prepared to alter the rota accordingly. He seemed surprisingly pleased with the potential challenge - "I've never had to factor in something like this before!" Not everyone shared quite my level of enthusiasm, but I somehow managed to persuade Glen, Rhys, Dave, Bianca, Hanna, Zach, Ellie, and Tref to take to the field. Zach was even talked into wearing a yellow jacket and a pair of angel wings to fulfil his role as the golden snitch. The rules were a little bit vague, and although Tref did an excellent job refereeing, he was at one point handed a pair of Harry Potter glasses for missing a blatant foul. The boys were runaway winners (260-70) - mostly attributed to Rhys' lightweight, aerodynamic choice of broomstick - a feather duster! Even when the weather changed, and we ended up playing through a hail storm (very Harry Potter esk as Bianca pointed out), everyone seemed to be enjoying it! I can safely say that the first ever YHA Quidditch match was wholly successful - thank you to all my suitably mad friends/colleagues for joining in!  

I spent the two weekends either side of the Quidditch match up in the Highlands of Scotland. It made for a long drive, but that part of it was nothing really - some journeys are a lot longer in the making. It's almost overwhelming when you start to think about it - that you cannot discard a single moment of your life in order to be where you are now. Not the good, nor the bad, or the downright rock bottom times. I often wonder if forever is long enough to get to grips with our lives, to accept certain things, and just be happy. It's amazing how difficult that is, to believe that you are deserving of anything good. I stayed with my friend David, and his dog Gill. We had no fixed plans as such, so we headed west and hit golf balls off the beach at Clashnessie in the driving rain. The following weekend we would be back there, running barefoot along the sand and into the sea. Time and space seemed like unfathomable concepts - no more so than when we stood alone under Quinag, the mountain so close and yet the entire universe almost visible in between.

Lady in Red in the style of the Sex Pistols

Glen returned to Borrowdale last week with tales of his travels, & a suntan definitely not belonging to the Lake District. He was telling us how the best thing about the Canary Islands was the oranges. "I've never tasted anything so good!" I immediately asked what they tasted of, and was somewhat disappointed when he replied, "erm.......oranges?!" I felt a little sorry for Glen when he found out that he was on an evening kitchen shift with me. But he was most grateful when I was able to offer him some expert culinary advice...."make sure you don't pour custard on the rice!" He looked rather bemused until I explained that that was something I might do by accident, and I didn't want him to suffer the same fate. The soundtrack to our evening was non other than Dolly Parton's greatest hits. I shared my interesting Dolly Parton fact with Glen...."Did you know that Dolly the sheep was so named because she was cloned from breast tissue?" 

"What?! They cloned a sheep from human breast tissue?" 

"No." 

Once we'd finished for the evening, we wandered through to reception where Tref sang Lady in Red to me, this time in the style of the Sex Pistols. 

One day when I was working a split shift I got out in the afternoon for a road/trail run & a skinny dip. It was a cold day, with the wind chill taking the temperature below zero. The water was so beautifully inviting though, & I swam about for a good few minutes. Running back to the hostel I saw a car that was clearly lost. As I stopped they wound down their window, & asked if I knew where the YHA was. "Funny you should ask that....!" & we struck up a bit of a conversation. He commented on the weather, & mentioned the colour of my legs being so red wearing shorts. 

"Oh yes...I've been swimming as well." 

"In the river?!" 

"Yes!"

"Oh! & I thought you looked really sensible!" 

He then started enquiring as to whether all the people who worked at the hostel were mad. 

"Yep! & they are all worse than me!" 

Cleaning is not everyone's favourite thing, but I usually find it pretty fun. Especially when good timing allows a real life 2 minute game of Hungry Hippos with Simon (usinf Henry the hoover, 1 & 2). It's a bit difficult to tell who the winner is, but it does result in an immaculate stretch of carpet in no time at all. Glen told me on one such cleaning shift that I was excessively happy. "I don't think you can have an excess of happiness.....although, there was an occasion in Scotland when I was cycling around Loch Leven, & I felt so happy I just had to stop and sit down for a while. & then, when I carried on, I saw a Billy Goat Gruff at the side of the road." Glen was pretty much lost for words, but that didn't stop him playing the story of The Three Billy Goats Gruff on YouTube when we finished work.  

At the end of the week I headed over to Eskdale - Mick & Rachel were going away on holiday, and I had been drafted in to look after things (most especially the dog!). I'd been looking forward to it for a while, and not even Harry (from the Woolpack) suggesting that we would be going for a 25km trail run could dampen my enthusiasm. When I arrived on Saturday afternoon, it was to find that Rachel still hadn't done any packing. "I don't know whether I'll be allowed to take my binoculars in my carry on luggage, and I haven't really been able to get past that yet." Mick quietly asked what she would need binoculars for whilst on the aeroplane, to which Rachel muttered something in reply about wanting to see a whale.

60 minutes in Ireland, and a mechanical camel

One afternoon, a week ago now, Zach was telling us how he needed to take 5 different trains the following day in order to get to Holyhead for an interview. & one of those train changes only had a two minute connection. It's a not story which is mine to explain, but the reasons behind going for this particular interview were, to me, incredibly moving, honest, and good. "Well, you know, I'm not working tomorrow. You'll never make a connecting train in two minutes at Warrington, so I'll drive you down. How much do you like Chris de Burgh?!" And that was that - a road trip to Anglesey was organised. The adventure actually started even before it had really begun - it turned out that Zach had to get to Barrow that night, & so I arranged to pick him up from Lancaster train station in the morning. Before I left Borrowdale at 7am, we exchanged a brief WhatsApp conversation that went like this:

Zach:  Haha I think you could be on to something.... Perhaps harness a dozen pigeons and try and imitate the King of Christmas. 

K: Who the flip is the King of Christmas?!?!

Zach: Santa of course 

K: & he had lots of pigeons? 

Zach: Well.... That's how he started

K: I never knew that 

Zach: But the world grew fuller so he had to get himself bigger, more majestic creatures instead. 

And so the day began. 

After managing to negotiate the oneway system in Lancaster to find the train station (& Zach), we stopped at Lancaster service station because I needed a wee. "This is Trefor's favourite service station" I explained to Zach. "We had quite a long conversation about our favourite service stations last night. He really doesn't like Hamilton services though, apart from the time he stopped there as a student, and the whole coach load of them bought Mars Bars individually at the night-pay (back in the day)". It was about the time we left the M6 to join the M56 when little bits of hay appeared in the air, occasionally hitting the windscreen. Zach was wondering which vehicle it was coming from, but nothing was immediately apparent. It wasn't until we joined the slip road that it became blatantly obvious - "Oh look!" Said Zach. "There it is - we're now driving behind a giant mechanical camel!" The journey was going really smoothly, although I had a feeling that Zach was, on occasions, fancying his chances with the 5 trains more than my driving. Not my actual driving per se, but the moments when it seemed as likely that we could end up in Minehead as Holyhead. "I've been along this road so many times but I don't recognise it today. Is it the A55, Zach? Oh look, it must be...that's the sea, isn't it?!" Things, perhaps, got even 'worse' when Zach asked if we could make a quick stop off in Bangor. Heading back out of the city we came to a little roundabout. Zach told me to go straight over, but I promptly turned left into the train station carpark. "You didn't say turn left, did you? Sorry about that. But at least we get a quick tour of Bangor station." If Zach was at all bothered by any of this, he certainly didn't show it. In fact, he was incredibly gracious. "Well as we're here, I'm just going to take a quick photo of that taxi. Finest taxi I've seen in a long time." Remarkably, we made it to Holyhead with plenty of time to spare, including time for Zach to walk into McDonalds wearing jeans, & walk back out again in a suit. I dropped him off at the interview venue, & then headed off to South Stack. Rory (brother number 2) had told me what a lovely place it was, but hadn't warned me that it involved leaving Wales. I wandered along the cliff path when I received a text message welcoming me to Ireland. The mist was lifting, and I spent the next 60 minutes marvelling at the sea far below, the colours of the rocks, and how I'd ended up in three different countries in the space of a day (geographically accurate or otherwise). On the way back to the Lake District we stopped off at the Welsh train station with the longest place name in the U.K.  Zach asked me jokingly if I could pronounce it....."well, I pretty much can, actually!" Which was a bit of mistake, because over the next few days it was all I ever seemed to be asked...."can you say it again?!" 

It felt strange to think that I'd not actually been away for more than a day, and although I was tired from driving, the trip to Anglesey was utterly refreshing. In many ways, for me, it was an affirmation of freedom - a freedom not only to move from one place to another, but a freedom to choose goodness over inactivity or complacency. I'm not sure we always get that choice, or at least not presented in such an clear cut way. In recent times I have learned a hard, & most incredibly sad lesson. That sometimes a situation is beyond repair, and that the best you can do to make things right is simply to leave it, to walk away. & even that does not go any distance to making it right. You're left with this silence, and you realise then that some silences are never silent. They are filled with your doubts, inadequacies, and imagining others thinking badly of you. Letting go is not the same thing as giving up, and in letting go that does not stop us caring or being sorry for any hurt we've caused (nor feeling sorry for friendships lost).  

The following day a surprise package arrived in the post. A good friend of mine in Scotland had, most thoughtfully, sent a belated Haggis for all the staff! When I told Zach, his face lit up & it looked like all his Burns Nights had come at once! Thanks again David! The week continued in a fairly standard manner, including a 5 minute game of 'tell me what you like about this door wedge' with Dave, & watching Phantom of the Opera after work with Bianca (for the 3rd time) while trying to ignore her constant remarks about flaws in the script! Later that night, I stood outside for a few minutes with Tref as he pointed out various constellations to me. "Look at all the stars! There's the plough, and....and...that's the moon. At least I think it is. There only seems to be half of it. I think we should call the local police and inform them that someone has stolen part of it." I sure will miss him, & he will be greatly missed when he retires mid-late March. 

The weekend brought 250 runners to YHA Borrowdale - we were hosting the registration and post race food & drink for the Kong Adventure Mini Mountain Marathon event. There was a wonderful atmosphere in the hostel (if you discounted the scents of wet mud & smelly feet), and although it was a busy day at work (& meant double toilet & shower cleaning)- I absolutely loved it. I also managed to fit in some running of my own (shorter distances & much slower), & went skinny dipping at sunrise under the mountains. I have mentioned this before, and will undoubtedly do so again and again. I feel so incredibly lucky, blessed, fortunate, to live in a place like this & with these extraordinary people.   

Giant Haystacks, & staff Quidditch trials

Of all the slightly strange things that have happened since moving to the Lake District almost a year ago, the events of last Tuesday night have to be right up there. I'd been working at Honister again during the day, and even though the weather was miserable, come 9pm (& back down in Borrowdale) I needed to get outside for some fresh air. It's an uncomplicated 7km run on the road to Seathwaite and back, and in the wind, rain, & with the single beam from a headtorch you become totally enveloped in the moment. I couldn't say which I prefer, running in the darkness or the daylight, they both other such a different experience that it goes beyond a simple matter of preference. It never escapes my notice though, how we almost need the presence of darkness in our lives, how we need it to help make sense of certain things. Anyway....I digress. It is very unusual to meet anyone else out and about at that time of night, even the road is more often that not totally car free. But as I reached the end of the road, I saw a man crouched down behind the wall holding a torch and a pair of binoculars. Even though it must have been apparent that I'd seen him, and even for a moment after I'd asked if he was alright, he continued to stay there, crouched down. I thought at first he was a disorientated walker who had got lost & stumbled down off the fells. But then he finally moved, spoke, and asked me, "what's going on here?" I replied, stating what I thought was fairly obvious, that I was just out on a run. It took a few minutes for me to convince him of this - he couldn't quite believe that anyone would be out running at this time of night, & in the wind and rain. It turned out that this gentleman was the owner of the farm at Seathwaite, & he had thought that I was a sheep rustler, or at least someone up to no good. Once we'd cleared all this up though, we actually had a very pleasant conversation - mostly about the newly resurfaced road, & the history of all the previous times it had been resurfaced (I wasn't doing much of the talking at this point). I recorded my fastest time on the run home. 

A few days later I was working the evening kitchen shift with Bianca, when Zach walked in from reception & put up a meal tab for what seemed to be one hundred and eleven samosas. "Erm, Bianca....I'm not sure we have enough of the crescent moon shaped plates for that?" Bianca looked at the order, issued a muted 'arrrrrrghhh' (complete with dramatic hand gestures), and said "I keep telling Zach to write actual numbers rather than doing a tally!" Plate shortage panic over. Later that night, back in the staff house, a few of us stayed up chatting nonsense & watched Bianca trying to complete an obstacle course around the living room. It was then that I first had the idea to create an underground Borrowdale news station, nothing fake, all happy, such as an un-lost cat being found. Simon has agreed to interview the fortunate moggy. Transmission could be a bit of a problem - we don't really pick up radio this deep into the valley, so it might have to be via the blog, instead. 

After a fairly busy week at work, and times when I was really feeling quite tired, I was glad to have some days off. I actually had four in a row lined up, and once I'd caught up on some sleep I was looking forward to getting outside to do some running, swimming, & general exploring. It was late afternoon on Saturday when I took off around Buttermere - all part of the plan really as it would be quieter then, & more chance of an undiscovered skinny dip! I managed two actually, and was having so much fun I needed my headtorch to get me back to where I'd parked. The weather on Sunday was just lovely, and after listening to the Australian Open final through Bianca's phone I headed out for a run up Haystacks, & a skinny dip in Blackbeck Tarn. I bumped into an elderly gentleman just by the top of Honister Pass - we got chatting, and he asked me quite seriously if Haystacks was named after the wrestler 'Giant Haystacks'? It took me a moment before I was able to answer, "Erm.....I don't think so, but don't let that stop you having a good day!" That had me smiling for quite a while, not that it was a day that was short of smiles. In fact, as I later told my friend Lizzi - I spent most of the day smiling like a lion. Sometimes I find that a typo (lion/loon) can actually enhance the sentiment behind a message. Skinny dipping was not so straightforward on this occasion - as I was running up past the tarns there were people at both Blackbeck & Innominate. I also couldn't fail to notice that there was a fair amount of ice around the most accessible shorelines. But I was not to be deterred. By the time I had reached the summit & run back on myself, the people had moved on. I skirted round the edge of Blackbeck Tarn, took all my clothes off & got straight in for a quick swim. 

When I got back to Borrowdale and the staff house, I was so, so excited to see that Dave had returned from his holidays! It must have been before Christmas since we'd both been in the valley, and I would often find myself missing his company (and the same with Glen, & Rhys). I was especially delighted to see that he was wearing his orange/yellow jacket - & I asked if he wouldn't mind being the golden snitch when I organised a date for our staff Quidditch trials. At the moment though it is only Bianca & myself who have actually signed up. This surprises me slightly as I posted the notice on the fridge door, & made it quite clear that no previous experience was required. Simon then appeared eating several Kit-Kats, & he started asking what I'd been up to that afternoon. I told him about the running, skinny dipping, & the man who thought a Lake District mountain was named after a wrestler. Simon thought about this for a moment before informing me that Wainwright's ashes were scattered somewhere by the top of Haystacks. "If any of them ended up in that tarn, Wainwright might have been caressing your body this afternoon." Then, changing the subject, we spent the rest of the evening until Match of the Day came on assigning all the staff with wrestling names.

Eskdale adventures, & a C de B tribute video

The working week finished for me on Friday at 4pm. It was one of those cold, clear, impossibly fresh Lake District evenings, so I took straight off up Castle Crag to watch the sunset. From the front door of YHA Borrowdale it’s only a short run/walk to the top, and although it’s not of any significant height (in Lake District terms) it affords the most incredible views. Castle Crag is usually a popular spot, but on this occasion I watched the sky change through every muted shade of pink, yellow, and orange in contemplative solitude. Not a day goes by without appreciating what an unspeakably beautiful place this is to live, work, and simply be. I ran back to the hostel as the stars began to appear, and couldn’t have been happier to find Hanna making a large batch of pancakes for everyone! 

I headed over to Eskdale on Saturday to visit Mick and Rachel for the weekend, and to go for a trail run with Harry (owner of the Woolpack). This run had been planned a week ago, and although I was slightly concerned that Harry would be way too fast for my ambling pace, the promise of finding the best pools in the upper Esk valley for a swim was too tempting to pass up.  I needn’t have been worried, though. Harry quite happily and graciously put up with my general slowness, and it turned out to be quite some adventure/explore. Harry had the tendency to say, “let’s go this way!” on a regular basis, the result of which was often sinking below ankle deep into boggy ground, and crossing rivers up to the knees. I suspect that I enjoyed this part more than Harry though, especially considering that when the right location presented itself I would be going for a full blown swim! Harry was not in the least bit tempted by this, but he did kindly run on so that I could strip off and have a skinny dip! It was a truly magical afternoon with a huge expanse of blue sky over the Scafell range, and the promise of watching Mick & Rachel’s dog eating spaghetti later on hung in the air! Mick proudly showed me his article in Cumbria Life magazine, and said, “It’s funny really, because no one can tell from looking at the photo that my trousers were nearly falling down!” He was absolutely right – I hadn’t the slightest idea. The weather was not as favourable on Sunday, low cloud and grey, but I hit the trails once again. Although I ran in the same place, it was a very different experience this time around. That’s always the case with everything; different thoughts, different conditions, we are never the same person as we were yesterday. However minutely, life is constantly changing yet at the same time being maintained. I very much enjoyed running with Harry, but a solo run presented a greater freedom when it came to skinny dipping! I went in twice this time, and probably because of the weather, I never saw another soul all afternoon. I headed back to Borrowdale Sunday evening, but not before witnessing Rachel trying to surf/roll down the corridor on a cricket stump (found behind the fridge). 

Monday was the start of volunteers week at YHA Honister - & I was 'entrusted' with overseeing the various painting and cleaning tasks up the hill. It was good to spend some time at another hostel, & with a really great team of volunteers. Things started to get a little strange though when I headed down the road. It began when Chris was showing me his newly rearranged office, and let it slip that he was only about two steps away from getting a cobra in a tank. To be honest though, I think he probably has some way to go before he descends to that kind of ultra high powered managerial mentality - he currently has a lava lamp on his desk, & he managed to put one of the hostel awards the wrong way round. But, as long as you don't examine too closely, he is definitely able to pull of the "That guy knows what he's doing!" look which he currently striving for. 

Back in the staff house Tref kindly put some Chris de Burgh videos on his iPad for me to watch & listen to while his was cooking his dinner. He emerged from the kitchen area a little while later, and looking at his plate I asked, "Are you eating a whole chicken, Tref?" He glanced at both Bianca (recently promoted to Catering manager) and myself before replying...."erm no, it's an omelette!" I thought it was quite an easy mistake to make, but I'm not sure I'll be let in the hostel kitchen unaccompanied ever again. We swiftly turned our attention to planning Tref's first music video as a Chris de Burgh tribute act. Tref already had a grand vision in his mind - 'we can film Don't Pay the Ferryman down on Derwent Water!' It's brilliant. Pure genius. I'm just not really sure how well it will go down with the owner of the Keswick Launch when we inform him that we won't be paying him until he gets us to the other side. 

Time sensitive triangles, & a return to the Lakes

A week ago now, my last day up in Aviemore was not uneventful. The snow was even deeper, & my cousin's next door neighbours kindly offered me a lift up to Glenmore as they were headed that way for some family sledging. It was a bit of a squeeze getting five of us in their small car, though (as well as the two baby/child seats). But we managed, and headed up the road with Baa Baa Black Sheep (& other nursery rhymes) on full blast so as to keep the kids happy, & drown out the sound of the broken exhaust. They let me out by the side of the Loch, & (still wearing shorts) I began my run cross country back to Aviemore. My route took me up to Rothiemurchus Lodge, by which time the snow was at least knee deep in places. This made running pretty tough going, and the few people I did see either looked at me slightly impressed or as if I was some sort of escapee. The sun was shining, with large patches of blue sky, and it was one of those days which made me feel so utterly alive and filled with joy.  

I drove back to Borrowdale the following morning - a journey that was not so much measured in time, but by how many times I could listen to Chris de Burgh's latest album (just over 6). The staff house was fairly quiet when I returned, with several people being away on holiday and that sort of thing. But I did see Bianca almost immediately, and we stood outside admiring the recently created garden paths, and watched a Robin hop about on a branch. I told Bianca that Robins are my favourite type of bird, apart from Toucans..."but I don't think we get those here." Hanna also appeared a little later on, and the conversation went almost exactly like this: 

"Hey, Kirsten! Do you want some pizza bases? There's loads in the freezer which need eating....that's what I'm having for my tea." 

"Just that?"

"I've also got loads of tomato sauce paste, it has been open for a while, but I think it smells ok. I can't really tell though....I've got a cold. Oh...and I have all these mushrooms, a few have gone mouldy but the rest will be fine....do you want me to make you a pizza?" 

"Thanks, but I think I'm ok." 

I was happy to find that everything was as normal at YHA Borrowdale. And...speaking of all things YHA, Chris informed me one afternoon that he'd love a knitted jumper with a big YHA logo on the front. "You know, with the oldest type of YHA triangle?" 

"I didn't realise that triangles were time sensitive?"

"Well, when you put it like that...I suppose any three sided shape would do." 

Chris, if it's possible, seems to be excelling himself when it comes to slightly off the wall ideas. First there was the 'sticky table test', which involved pitting a varnished table against a sanded table, placing various items on top & seeing which the mugs stuck to more. That was all very well until Bianca wandered in, and asked why the heck there were napkins, teapots, and mugs of hot water strewn over two dining room tables. "Don't move them.....the competition still has ten minutes to go!" 

That was nothing though compared to his plan to revolutionise staff training at YHA Borrowdale. How I allowed myself to be talked into doing a spot of 'acting' for these inspirational videos, I'm not entirely sure! But one thing is for certain - Chris had a lot of editing to do in order to put together a minute of footage in which I wasn't laughing. Despite that, I am fully expecting an Oscar nomination, and a legacy of countless generations of motivated and well informed YHA team members. 

I spoke to Mick and Rachel at Eskdale during the week - a well timed phone call as it turned out, as it meant I was able to listen to Rachel eating Cornflakes. After a few moments of that though, she put Mick on the phone. He was telling me how he has a double page spread in the next issue of Cumbria Life magazine (modelling men's lingerie topless). Rachel was later able to inform me that this wasn't entirely accurate - it was actually about his art work! There was also something in the conversation about a JCB digger accidentally cutting power to the valley, and a strange request for Mick to obtain a sheep to be slaughtered (definitely not granted).  

The highlight of the week though, apart from an invigorating nighttime skinny dip in Blackmoss Pot, was when Tref sang not one, but two Chris de Burgh songs to me whilst sat behind Reception. It may actually have been one of the ten greatest moments of my life, and there is no doubt that Tref has an exciting future as a C de B tribute act (should he want it). It's good to be back. 

2.5 kidneys, & every available Chris de Burgh video

It has been an extended Christmas break for me, a gap in between contracts, and a chance to spend time with family in both Cheshire and Scotland. I'm actually still in Aviemore as I write this, the snow has arrived, and everything feels pretty magical. I'll be returning to the Lake District tomorrow though, and I'm really looking forward to seeing everyone there. I've been reminded again of the importance of taking time away, even from something you love, and from a place that feels like home. 

It certainly hasn't been a quiet, uneventful three weeks, though! In fact, if anything, things became even more chaotic. That is the absolute maddening joy of having a big family. On the morning I was traveling down, I received a text message from my mum. 'Just to let you know - Rob, Claire, Maeve, Claire, James, Oscar, Rory, Jen, Hamish, & Brian are here today. You might have to sleep in your van.' To be fair, it's likely that I would have been kicked out of the house anyway....something to do with playing indoor rugby & bows and arrows with my niece and nephew (much to the disapproval of my lovely but order-loving step dad). I think the tipping point was when I suggested that we all had a scrum in the middle of the living room. The world was soon afforded a little peace though, as one by one, Rob, Claire, & I came down with a 'killer' bought of the flu. The most worrying symptom of the illness was my sudden lack of desire to eat chocolate, & a close second was being awake at 3 in the morning trying to explain to my mum why we wouldn't make very good Russians. After a week in bed, and having watched every available Chris de Burgh video on YouTube, I was at long last able to leave the house. The destination was Snowdonia, for a little walk, and to call in at Rory & Jen's for a 'coo-eee' & a cup of tea. Rory was actually out on a Llanberis Mountain Rescue call out when we arrived, & Jen wasn't back from her long, long run. So we spent the intervening time searching their kitchen cupboards for some regular tea bags.  

Perhaps one of the most interesting/bizarre conversations I had over the festive period was a Whatsapp chat with my friend Jane. I can't quite remember the dialogue that preceded her saying, 'I have two and a half kidneys', but that & what followed was fairly memorable. My initial reaction (after verifying that said information was not a typo) was one of astonishment - that I had known her for so long, but didn't know this. "How is that not the first thing you ever told me about yourself? Surely you must introduce yourself to everyone with your name and then that bit of information?" I was then keen to know whether this extra half kidney was there by accident or design, and if it worked and she didn't need it had she ever considered selling it on eBay? Apparently she hadn't, but thinking it to be an excellent idea she went to look into it straight away. After a brief silence I received another message from Jane, "I've added a description of the item....one (fairly) careful owner, but I'm not really sure how the 'buyer collects' option is going to work." 

It hasn't all been madness, though. On the quieter side of things, the quieter side which everyone knows is really a raging storm, a chance to think. We throw ourselves headlong into other things to avoid this place, or at least to avoid experiencing it all at once. I was chatting to a good friend a few days ago, chatting and listening to her speak about the recent and heartbreaking death of her mother. In many ways life is entirely about loss. Everything comes but to go. That doesn't mean we are ever able to make sense of it, though. It is never, ever easy. Because it stays, and can stay with us forever. Though often thought of as an absence, loss can hold a far greater presence in our lives than perhaps anything else. In all this, death makes life impossible to ignore. It is the great reminder to leave nothing unspoken. Whether it's sorry, thank you, forgiveness, love, gratitude, friendship - remember to tell people, & what they mean to you. 

 

Slightly later than planned (due to the flu) I headed up to Scotland, to Aviemore. I had been wanting to visit Glen Affric for some time now, & on the first available sunny day I drove north and slightly west inland. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and despite the temperature being barely above freezing (if at all), I couldn't resist a quick skinny dip! I'm not sure it was entirely sensible, given that I still hadn't recovered 100% from being ill, but I did at least find a completely ice free pool! Al & Naomi had some choice words to say about my sanity when I got back, and my friend Kirsten (the other Kirsten) commented on my Facebook photo, "haven't you just recovered from bird flu?!" (No. Not bird flu). The skinny dipping continued in Glen Feshie, and along with nighttime trail running in the snow around the forests of Glenmore, Al and Naomi tried to make me promise not to do anything too crazy. I reluctantly ruled out rowing to the Orkney Isles in an inflatable dingy, and sledging on the A9 down into Inverness (both of which I had been trying to talk Al into). But anything & everything else was still on the table, and everyone seemed pretty happy about that.