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.