Menondering Lonely As A...

After a fairly peaceful night by the busy roadside by Troutbeck Inn, I took the small and windy route through the Lakes to reach Rydal Mount, the historic home and gardens of William Wordsworth. What looked to be a little under a thirty-minute drive per the navigator turned out to be closer to forty-five due to road and traffic conditions. Heaving, in every sense of the word! Add that the roads are exceedingly narrow and quite often 'blind' cornered, driving was 'interesting'. 

No worries, for I never drive in a hurry. I did want to reach my destination with Nobby and co by mid-afternoon, but things soon showed it was going to be more like early evening... despite saying that parking was 'limited', what the website of the place completely fails to convey is that the property is halfway up an excessively steep hill ( minimum 45' angle) on a single track road, and that the 'car park' is the size of a handkerchief. I had the very dickens of a task to get The Grey turned around (drawing some admiration and cheers from observers!), then had a discussion with a lady who seemed to be directing matters. I had booked my walk through the gardens, so I expected that there would be a parking space booked as well. Not necessarily the case, it seems. However, "Pauline" pointed me to behind her car in a separate space and said I could park there. She was a lovely lady and was keeping her cool amid the frenzy that was definitely bubbling all about her.

Anyway, all the kerfuffle meant I wasn't walking the grounds until after 1 p.m. One thing to be said is that the weather came up trumps! It was perfect for such a visit. I didn't pay for the house viewing because I knew it would be difficult to access, but really, it was to be in the gardens and view the house from the exterior that I had made the spontaneous decision the night before to make this stopover. One thing that didn't immediately strike me, but came up during conversation with Pauline and the gardeners, is that Rydal Mount remains private within the Wordsworth family line... but is now up for sale! As you will see, the interior is not entirely period, as it has continued to serve as a working home, albeit the owners are not permanently resident... Pauline, it turns out, is something of a warden for the place. It's causing a bit of furore, locally, as you may imagine. 

As tomorrow is FFF time, I am keeping most of the garden shots (and poetry) for that post. You've come to expect that of me, haven't you?!

This is not the only property which refers to Wordsworth. The immediate question that arose for me (and many others) was whether the National Trust might be interested; however, the issue with the road and parking access would be the deal-breaker on that. Pandemonium is a term that might be applied. The NT does run the larger house and garden at Cockermouth. However, even that appears to be under reassessment as to viability.

There is also another centre, not that far from Rydal, which focuses on Wordsworth's time at Grasmere. No shortage of honouring/cashing in on the famous poet's life and place!

The gardens are undulating, to say the least. The Rolls-later served me well, and I even managed to negotiate the very steep, very irregular steps at the far end of the grounds, rising up to the 'terraces' part of the property. This very adaptable piece of equipment can be collapsed and used as a mobile bannister to help me up the flight, and provides a seat to let me catch breath every third step!

Those photos may not entirely display the precipitous and somewhat hazardous nature of that climb! It was as much adventure as I'd had in a while - or wanted. 

Once up on the terrace part, it was a wander along to the poet's seat of contemplation... after another very short stair clamber...

The setting, the ambience, and the history all brought a sense of tranquillity. 

Until the F-15s and Typhoons decided they needed to practice dog-fighting. The very rocks vibrated... They were on VERY low manoeuvres through the dales and all I could think was that there are people in the world for whom this is a daily and deadly onslaught...

By the time I got back to the reception area, Pauline had the news that a bus tour was about to arrive and the vehicle would be parking behind The Grey, hemming me in until closing time. This was not altogether bad news, as I was tired from my climbing expedition and needed to take some food and a cuppa. 

Once back on the road, it was about an hour before reaching Nobby's place... all about that starts next Thursday! One last look at Rydal Mount...