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 He was especially pleased to discover that the lone packet of Starburst was only 4 years out of date, thus rendering them (in his mind) entirely edible.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!!