24 hours in England

After spending 6 days in Scotland it was time to head back to England and finish off our time in the UK. Unfortunately we weren't quite shown the hospitality we were before and our 24 hours in England were plagued with disappointment and misfortune.

After crossing the border and
just before settling down for the evening we made a side trip down hazardous narrow roads to take a look at Hadrian's Wall, built by the Romans along the then English/Scottish border. To call it a wall is an overstatement. Where we saw it at the town of Bank it is more like Hadrian's Crappy Pile of Rocks, and a slight let down. We drove back to the nearby town of Brampton and found a cute caravan park to stay at.

Unfortunately, a problem we had noticed while driving around the area earlier reared it's ugly head in Brampton. Everything smelt like cow poo and within no time of setting up camp the smell had permeated our motorhome. To combat the stench I quickly set about cooking pasta for dinner and warmly welcomed the tears from the overpowering onion juice.

The next day we set off for the Lakes District. Mum and dad have just spent 6 weeks in the UK and, in a note left for us in our place in Horley, mum had STRONGLY RECOMMENDED (yes she used capitals) to do the Derwent Waters Catbells walk. Now, having completed the walk, we think mum suggested it for three possible reasons. 1. She thinks we're unfit. 2. She hates us. 3. She wants us to die. Or possibly all three.

The experience started by having to pay £3 just to park in a paddock in the middle of nowhere. We then set off with our map and packed bag to complete the 10km walk. The start of the walk is, in simple terms, up. After one particularly steep section I asked Matt how he was feeling and I had a good giggle at his reply- "I feel like I'm having a heart attack." We would join the groups of people stopping every 50 metres to catch their breathe and bond over jokes about the steepness. Being on a ridge however awarded us amazing views of the whole area.

The way down is a lot easier and, inspired by poet William Wordsworth (author of the poem Matt calls 'Wanks composed a few wanks above Wankton Abbey', who was born in the nearby town of Cockermouth and often scaled these hills), we would take turns making up verses for poems. Ours were not quite up to his standard with us rhyming Matty with fatty on more than one occasion. Once we reached the base the walk winds its way beside Derwent Water before returning to the car. Whatever mums intention, I'm glad she recommended it as it was a great experience.

After being back in England for only a short time we noticed that fuel had increased by a whopping 11 pence. We were also met with two major delays on the motorway near Carlisle after a Coca Cola truck hit the middle barrier and the entire contents of the truck were strewn all over the road. One poor motorist got 4 punctured tyres from the bottles when it happened.

Determined to push on and allow England to redeem itself we travelled to Blackpool, which claims to be England's most visited city outside London and is where all the Brits go to holiday. It is essentially Brighton on crack, with tacky rides, amusement arcades, souvenir shops and gaudy establishments everywhere you look. It was like a train crash - no matter how hard I tried I just couldn't look away. As time was ticking away we resolved to stay there the night and explore the city the following day.

After trying to find a place to stay and being turned away by 4 full caravan parks we were finally told the reason - it was Bank Holiday, a long weekend - proving that Blackpool really is where the Brits holiday. We instead drove to Liverpool where it was pouring with rain.

We had spent less than 24 hours in England and had been plagued with expensive fuel, crappy walls, steep mountains, poo, no room at the inn and rain. We had finally had enough and, still feeling quite awake, we cut our losses and drove to Wales to stay there the night instead.