travel – Page 5 – Honest Lies

“Will I be able to make it through after all? The weight of my cross filled with wrath and hate and this world filled with hopelessness?”

Wednesday, 29/01/2014 10:44:06

I’m sitting writing this on the train whilst struggling not to cry. These past few days which should have been amazing, have turned out badly.

On Sunday I woke up at 6am, left the house at 8am and trudged through the rain to the bus stop. I got on the bus and got to the station, and from there the train back home. Seeing my family again was nice, but it still feels so awkward to be at home. I don’t know what to do with myself when I’m home – I feel self conscious, and uncomfortable. Its very strange. On Monday I dragged myself out of bed at 5am, after hardly getting any sleep the night before. I do not know how I managed it – but I was ready by 6:15am. My poor father also had to get up early so he could drive me to the train station, to which we arrived too early, and stood, huddled into our clothes against the freezing cold. My train came and I made my way to my seat reservation, and waved enthusiastically to my father as the train pulled out the station. At this point I was still filled with hope, and probably a little hyper from lack of sleep. It was a long journey- at first I worked on my interview preparation, then as my hyper energy faded away, I leaned against the window and gazed outside, resting. I wanted to close my eyes and sleep, but the scenery was too beautiful as I passed through the lake district into Scotland. Lush green fields to snow covered hills… it was too wonderful to miss. At Edinburgh I changed to the next train and this journey was even more wonderful – curving around the coast, and I was luckily sat on the side of the train that faced the sea. Finally, I arrived into Aberdeen, exhausted and hungry, but still in a good mood. I went to the hotel and dumped my stuff and then went out for lunch. I didn’t stay out long, didn’t bother to explore – I was tired and it was cold. I went back to the hotel and half lay, half sat, with the intention of working on interview preparation. The next thing I knew I was waking up with no idea what time it was or even, for a moment, where I was. Thankfully it was 5.30pm and I had not missed the company dinner that night. I was exhausted though – all my earlier hyper energy gone. I got ready and went out and there were so many people at the dinner and I felt so awkward and out of place.

On Tuesday I woke up at 6am, again, and I was very tired by this point. I got a taxi at 7:15am. The taxi driver was a very talkative old man, who rambled on the entire way. It was strangely soothing listening to him talk – it kept me from my own thoughts, my own fear, that companion to hope. I arrived at the company soon enough. The job interview was quite something. I messed it up royally, and I ended up walking back from the company – a long walk, made uncomfortable in my inappropriate work shoes, but I wanted to work off my disappointment, my anger at myself, that terrible feeling of all your hope coming crashing down around you, slipping away from you. I got back to the hotel room and I sat down on the bed and cried for a good while. Although I just wanted to lie there and mope, I had made plans to meet with my uncle, his wife and my cousin that night. I was terribly nervous about the whole thing – I’ve not seen any of them in years. They were late so I sat the restaurant for half an hour, fretting. I was still filled with all the feelings of the day – nervous energy, dissapointment, regret. Thankfully when they showed up it was…it was actually quite nice. There were a couple of awkward moments, I was so tired and finding it hard to think straight, but for the most part it was OK. It was strange to see my cousin again, too. He’s grown up so much – I still remember him as a young boy but hes grown so tall now, and his voice is starting to change.

Everything about these past few days were so new and different, it left me feeling quite overwhelmed.

Afterwards I went back to the hotel and went to bed. I had to get up early tomorrow and I was determined to get some sleep.

Now I am on the train to Edinburgh. I’m trying not to think about exams, or about the interview, but I cannot help it. The latter especially. I loved Aberdeen, and I wanted the job so badly – more, after spending some time here. And I messed up. Because of my anxiety, because of my shyness, because I am just completely useless. Is there no space for someone like me in this world? I’m 21 and I…look at other people my age and feel alienated. I feel so useless. I feel so childish. I feel like with the way I am, I’m never going to get anywhere- and then what? What can I do if I just keep on failing to deal with this anxiety? I’m so upset. I just want to cry and cry and cry.

Not exactly the feelings I wanted to start my holiday with. The thing is, its not failing the job interview that gets me, its knowing I did not do my best. If I’d gone there and I’d lived up to my full potential – truly tried then I could deal. Its knowing that I messed up, its wondering what I could have been if only I hadn’t gotten the perfect answers to the interviewers questions, 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 15 minutes after the interview. I didn’t do my best, I didn’t show the side of myself I wanted. That I regret.

Wednesday, 29/01/2014 20:56:35

The train journey to Edinburgh was not particularly exciting, I kept checking my watch, waiting for it to end. I was feeling emotional and trapped in my own thoughts and I wanted to escape from those feelings.

I drew into Haymarket station just after lunch. Thanks to google maps, I found the hotel with ease. Its rather tucked away from central Edinburgh, buts its in a quiet area and as I found after I checked in, the rooms are absolutely massive, with high ceilings, and a huge bed and bathroom. It feels very luxurious for a not so expensive hotel. Compared to the last hotel, its significantly cheaper and much better quality – the room is warm and decorated nicely, and no signs of construction. (The hotel in Aberdeen was nice, but poorly heated/freezing cold, and lacking finishing touches – like a towel rail, a do not disturb sign – and there were signs of ongoing renovations everywhere.)

I stayed for a moment to organize myself then headed out to the National Museum of Scotland. Again, thanks to google maps I found it easily – went down the wrong road a couple of times but thanks to GPS I could see I was off route. Maps and GPS are one of the reasons even if a smartphone annoys me sometimes, I’ll never give it up. I think having something like that on you at all times is one of the most brilliant things about recent phones – my old smartphone could never cope. I have no sense of direction and get extremely panicked when I get lost, as I often used to back when I didn’t have a phone with GPS capabilities. Now, I don’t need to worry. I have the postcodes for all the places I want to be and can use GPS to make sure I’m not wondering around with no idea where I am or how to get back to somewhere familiar. (Really, its the GPS that matters – knowing where you are real time, without having to try and figure it out on a map, using street names and landmarks…is really great.)

Anyway, the museum was great. They had a fascinating exhibition on wooly mammoths and other ancient ancestors of todays elephants- they had some of the skeletons, the leg bones were the size of a small child! They also had an interesting exhbition on kabuki prints, and a room packed with taxidermy and skeletons – from t-rex, to giant land sloths and blue whale jaws (the whale jaws fitted around an african elephant!) I found it all fascinating. I also went up to the 7th floor garden terrace which was freezing, but afforded great views of Edinburgh. I spent the whole afternoon at the museum and emerged at 20 to 5 and ended up getting an early supper at 5 – the place I wanted to go was very close. I went to a Japanese restaurant, eager for katsudon. But the food was disappointing – cold green tea from a bottle, packed with preservatives, instant miso soup with no seaweed or tofu, the katsudon was lacking…it was nothing like I’d had in Japan, even the Japanese fast food chain did it better! And for much cheaper. I was a little disappointed. I walked back to the hotel afterwards and have spent the evening lazying about and trying not to feel guilty about it. I’m on holiday! Its OK not to do work! But I still feel guilty, like I’m doing something wrong by being here, by wanting some time off.

On the other hand it is great to be lazy, I had a fun afternoon at the museum, and I am looking forward to going to the botanic gardens and two art museums tomorrow. (Also tomorrow I’m having Thai food and hopefully that restaurant will be better!)

Post Title: Nell - Counting Pulse

“You don’t want to hurt me, but see how deep the bullet lies.”

Ladybower Reservoir
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The opening sentence is always the hardest part of an entry to write. I can think to myself I want to write and I can know what I want to write about, but its hard to sit down and actually start. I find that with everything- essays that need writing, problem sheets that need doing. It’s always the starting of it that is the hardest.

Well, it’s already November. Two months until exam season, and when did that happen exactly? University is plodding along as ever. Half my modules are going OK, I just need to keep at it and make sure to practice questions a lot before the exams, but the other half are not good at all. Power Systems I like, but do not understand in the slightest. Electrical machines I know is necessary for my career path, but I do not understand in the slightest. Fields, waves and antennas I hate, and find boring, and do not understand in the slightest. I still have time for fields and power systems to hopefully sink in enough that I could scrape through the exam, but I have a coursework due in less than two weeks for Electrical Machines that I haven’t even started yet. I literally cannot do it. At all. The lecturer is good, the notes are good, the problem sheet is linked to the coursework and has thorough, clear solutions. But I just cannot understand it. At all. It’s worrying. Apart from that, my group project is also, well still, stressing me out. I am clashing with my group. Before every meeting I tell myself to hold back. There is a difference between sharing your opinion, and being an obnoxious twat. I’m leaning dangerously towards the latter but I am so frustrated and I find myself unable to keep myself from letting it show. They are just so disorganized, and so laid back about this project. And its like guys, seriously. This is the majority of our marks for this year. Can you please take this seriously? I’m being too harsh, I know, its probably that our learning styles are clashing, but that doesn’t make any the less frustrating. We had a meeting today we were supposed to be going through our project proposal presentation for tomorrow and no one had made any cue cards or even knew what they were saying and it just felt like such a waste of time. I’m really worried about how the presentation will go tomorrow, even though I have a feeling my group are going to surprise me (I am hopeful of that, I guess it could be said) I don’t really get on with any of these people either. I find myself rambling, saying things I shouldn’t, because I feel so nervous around them. Desperately over compensating for the fact I don’t know how to act around them, or what I am really doing. I was so lucky to have such nice groups last year, that I suppose its only right I end up with a difficult group who make me feel uncomfortable and frustrated this year. Apart from that, I am still being far too lazy with my Japanese, and I have another extra curricular module that I haven’t even started work on. Meanwhile I keep wasting time reading fic and browsing the web, because I am tired and frustrated and faced with all these things I don’t know how to do my first instinct is to bury my head in the sand and pretend that it does not exist, that it is not November, that time is not slipping, sliding out of my hands, unable to grasp onto it.

I’ve been going through health things lately. (This could veer towards TMI, so skip this paragraph if you want.) I suffer from heavy, painful periods and resulting anaemia and I got sick of it around the beginning of this year. I subsequently went on the pill and it turned me moody and made me fat, so I went off it and went on some other non hormonal pills, which didn’t work. So I am now facing going back on the pill and I just don’t want to. I am really not sure what to do – I want less heavy periods, but at the end of the day I’m facing going on the pill (mood swings, fatness, having to remember to take them) or getting the mirena coil (painful, painful, painful). Being a woman sucks. In other news I had a very awkward doctors appointment on Wednesday where, amongst other things, I was all “I have aneamia!” and he was all “No, no you really do not” and I just stared at him, shocked, because, and I accidentally said this out loud “But I feel like I do, so what’s going on?” He did not answer my question and I am still confused. I’ve been anaemic, or low iron but not quite anaemic for about 5 years now. I always imagined when my iron levels returned to healthy, normal levels that I would feel it. That I’d know. That I’d automatically be less tired, that I would no longer get out of breath just walking up a flight of stairs, that my periods would sort themselves out. I would know. But I am not anaemic and I still feel the same as ever. I am exhausted, all the time, I get out of breath, so easily. Which, after an unfortunate amount of time spent pondering this leads me to have to make some uncomfortable conclusions – I must be clearly doing something right if my iron levels are up without the aid of iron pills, but I must not be taking as good care of myself as I delude myself into. Lets admit to some things, right now. I do not sleep well. I wake up at funny hours multiple times during the night, I have bad, disturbing dreams that I struggle to wake up from. My diet could use some work. I have been on a mission to be less fussy, trying new vegetables, learning to love chickpeas and kidney beans and quinoa and cous cous but I still eat too many sugary snacks, I still binge eat terribly. I need to stop this. I am probably very unfit. I walk every day to uni and back, and I have been going hillwalking semi regularly, but that is only recently. I spent last year and the summer reasonably lazily, and I’ve never been particularly active, so I should probably accept that that is why I get so out of breath when I attempt activeness- my body just isn’t used to it right? That’s all I could come up with. Unless its all in my head, and that’s the most uncomfortable of all. Do I make myself ill for…what reasons would I do that? Attention? I don’t think I am that sort of person, but maybe I don’t know myself as well as I think, or there are things I don’t actually want to admit to myself. I find this all such a pain in the end. I don’t feel right, and now I feel crazy. Thinking about it all just makes me want to reach for the cookies because really, no matter what I do, it never seems to work (well, clearly the no dairy, more veg and less rice, more quinoa is working sorta, so there is that!) I just hate this and I really don’t know what to make of it all. I still cannot wrap my head around the fact that I have normal, healthy iron levels. That everything is OK. It doesn’t feel like it. Also: I still do have the very real issue of my fucked up menstrual cycle to deal with. ugh.

And yes, did I mention the hillwalking? I went out with the society again and I took an easier walk and it was wonderful. We went from the Ladybower Reservoir up to the Derwent Edge and along there. Absolutely gorgeous and paced nice and slow so I could cope much better than the first time. I then spent two weeks not going, until this weekend where I went out despite the storm. We went out around the Kinder Scout area. There were strong winds, like a hand pushing you, and needle-like rain. Yes, I finally understood those cliché descriptions. It was terrifying walking up hills with reasonably exposed edges when the wind was pushing into you, a physical force, threatening to push you right down (I admit I stumbled several times as the wind caught me just so) And then the rain, oh the constant rain. I was so wet. Everything I was wearing was soaked through to my innermost layer. All my belongs in my bag were soaked. My pants and shoes turned brand new colors as the dirty water seeped into them. It was cold, windy, wet and downright miserable and I am going back again this weekend. Because the scenery was beautiful, the air was fresh, albeit maybe a bit too fresh last week, and although I don’t always enjoy the process, I do enjoy the overall getting out of the house and doing something. Just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, not sinking into a peat bog, not slipping on a wet rock or down a muddy hill, not being pushed over by the wind, it drives everything else out. It’s a good break. And there’s less pressure than in sports- there’s no rules, no fancy dress code (just be warm, don’t wear jeans and wear walking boots. easy!), no judgements. It’s still awkward, and embarrassing, because I am unfit (not anaemic, oh no, I have to face up to it now- the breathlessness, the pain in my chest, the nausea that overcomes me when I exert myself it all from a lifetime of inactivity, most likely) and I lag behind sometimes, and it’s awkward and embarrassing socially because I tend to say the first thing that enters my mind, and its never witty, because I space out and miss what people are asking me. But the big advantage of the bad weather is no one wants to talk, we traipse along, single file, in silence, trudging through the bad weather, wet and cold together. It’s quite nice. I don’t know how long the weather is going to hold out – but I’m going to try get out there until the ice settles in.

I do wish I could afford a fleece, some waterproof pants, a waterproof bag though. Alas, I could only afford to buy a hat for this upcoming weekend. Please, please let it be less wet and less windy. Not wet and a little windy would be ideal.

(No pictures from this weekend, due to horrible weather making it impossible, so have a handful from the walk before- around the Ladybower reservoir.)

“Keeping my heart warm as today, rainy days never stays”

Beginning of Castleton Walk
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I woke up bright and early at 7am on Sunday. I got ready and left the house at 8am, then ended up sitting and waited outside TESCO (supermarket) for my sister to come to get my keys from me. She was in the city this weekend, and wanted to see me after my walk. The plan was to go to the walk, then get back around 6.30pm and have an hour with my sister before she had to go home. Things did not quite go to plan for this day, in many ways.

So, by 9am I was at the pick-up point for the walk with the university “rambling and hill walking” society. There were a handful of other people of the society there and we sorta chatted – the standard name, course, year, isn’t the weather nice? sort of conversation. We got on the bus and then it was a slow trawl to pick everyone up. The bus started at my pick-up half empty – but by the last pick-up point it was packed. A woman came to sit beside me, who was a long time member of the society. She was friendly, we chatted somewhat about this and that, and I got some information about the club from her, but eventually we lapsed into silence. The bus journey was fairly short – it’s amazing how quick you can go from the city to the countryside. After around a hour I was dropped off with the rest of my group. I had chosen Walk 4. There were 5 walks being held- with 5 being the hardest. Feeling relaxed and fairly confident, I had chosen 4. Something about it appealed to me. But really, I was an idiot to choose it.

The walk started off OK – going through fields and woodlands, then it became steeper and steeper and eventually we were trudging up a hill. A very, very steep hill. My breath caught in my chest and it felt like I could never quite release it, my legs felt tight and hot. I was panting loudly, out of breath. Everyone else was of course, quite OK. It was fairly embarrassing but I managed to push myself and keep up, even if everyone else had to hear me rasping breathlessly. (How. Embarrassing) the views at top were stunning though – and I took a million pictures before the leader called for us to start again.

The walk evened out again – lush forest and fields, even a long stretch of downhill, but there was another surprise just ahead – another hill to come. It was coming on to 2pm and we had not had lunch and I thought that if I just had lunch it would be OK. I made the mistake of mentioning this and there was an awkward moment where everyone stopped for me and offered me chocolate – thankfully I managed to convince them I was fine and to carry on until the planned lunch point. Thankfully they had decided to have lunch fairly soon. I really did want to take a proper break then – but I felt too embarrassed. It was PE all over again, where you’re lagging behind coming in last, letting the team down. We stepped off the road we were on and back onto rough path, climbing up through forest. I really was struggling to breathe, and my legs felt like lead. I pushed on and was grateful when we stopped for lunch. Two sandwiches, some chocolate biscuits, some grapes and some wine gums and I still felt exhausted, and vaguely ill. But there was still another hill to climb. By this point I was starting to lag, to get moody from my tiredness. The climb got steeper and steeper and every step was agony. I was clutching my camera strap and biting my lip in an effort to endure. I was really lagging behind now. Thankfully there was another girl just in front, also lagging, but she wasn’t feeling well. I was just unfit. I do not know how I made it to the top, but once there I sat down immediately, putting my head between my knees and trying to get my breath back.

Eventually I realised I was just starting to hyperventilate and got out my water to take a long, steadying drink. I felt ridiculous. I had climbed two mountains! I should be able to do this! But in truth when I climbed those mountains with my father we paced ourselves far slower and with far more stops. That uphill bit, we would have stopped at least once – sat down, watered ourselves, probably snacked. These people were hardcore, experienced walkers. They started at the bottom of the hill and went up the hill, no stops, no problems. I was exhausted. Thankfully the walk evened out nicely. We were going along the great ridge, and to either side were breathtaking views of the countryside. The day was bright and sunny which brought out all the colors. It was wonderful. I was lagging now, but not caring. I was tired, and I wanted to take pictures. I lingered behind everyone else, always keeping them in sight, bursting into fast speed to catch up so I could go over the stiles and gates as them at the same time, but otherwise embracing my exhaustion. I had tried so hard to keep up in the first half of the walk, not pacing myself at all like usual, and had ended up so tired. We did not carry on all the way along the ridge, but dropped down, through more farmland and eventually landing up at the town of Castleton. We sat down at a pub to wait for the other groups to come. I texted my sister- who was at home, waiting for me. I was eager to see her, to talk to her about my day. Unfortunately, it was not to be. One of the groups came in late so the bus departed late, which turned my plans into a huge mess. I ended up getting off at the university, then running to catch another bus, to get to my part of the city, then I had to run from the bus stop to get to my house. I got back to my house at around half seven, and my sister had to leave at quarter to eight. She was stressed, worried about missing the train, as it was the last train of the day. I was tired and stressed from the rush of trying to get back in time, and for her too. We chatted a bit but she was off soon enough. I was very disappointed, and I almost regretted going for the hike – because I could have had the day with my sister, instead. I wanted to see my sister.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed the hike. The day was lovely, the views were stunning, the people were friendly and accommodating (really, socially it was quite nice – there was not too much pressure to keep talking, as we were walking, and afterwards on the bus everyone was tired and caught up in thoughts of getting home, and not wanting to talk too much, even sleeping. I met some interesting people – a lot of them engineers, mathematicians and physicists, and a lot of international students. Even a girl who had lived in South Africa a little bit. All very interesting, very nice.) However I over estimated myself. Those hills really killed me. And I felt embarrassed- talking about my experience climbing mountains, then puffing and panting and lagging behind climbing up a hill. The more I think about it, the more I cringe. Strangely though, I find myself wanting to do a walk 4 again. I want to push myself. Yet, I don’t want to embarrass myself again. I have signed up for the walk next week nonetheless, and I will see what happens. We choose our walk difficulty on the day, so I will see how I feel then. Hopefully not so reckless as this week. But even if its an easy walk, I want to cram in as many walks as I can whilst the weather holds.

Today I woke up surprisingly not stiff, another early start, for it’s an hours walk to my house to university. The price to pay for living in a quiet suburb by myself is that it is very far from everything. The walk to university is not bad- just flat tarmac through suburbs all the way. I got to my lecture at 9am exactly, and felt tired, but not too bad, and still not too painful. My first lecture was on Power Networks and it was fascinating. It’s so great to be really digging into Electrical Engineering this year – instead of sitting through stuff I am not interested in. For the whole two hours of the lecture I was listening, paying attention, making notes, interested. I got a bit lost during the second half, but I will do a little bit of revision on the background material, the basics, before the next lecture. After that lecture I had Electrical Machines. Along the way a guy I was sort of acquainted with in first year approached me. I was shocked that anyone remembered me and happily chatted to him and his friend, who I had worked with on a project in first year, and so was glad he remembered me. It was quite nice you know? One thing I am noticing is that people keep asking me how Malaysia was and I think there is the expectation that I am going to start gushing about how great it was. It’s difficult, as it wasn’t that great. So in the end I am honest, I say that academically it wasn’t amazing, but getting to travel was brilliant. It feels a little awkward. Anyway, I sat with them for that lecture. It was weird, I felt a bit out of place. I’m so used to being alone. The lecture itself was also fairly interesting – though I have a feeling I may find this module difficult. Its all relevant to what I want to do one day though, so I shall try my best.

Really, I had a nice first day back. Just two intro lectures, no major social blunders. And I love that I’m living alone now – so I have time by myself. I can cope socially but only for a certain amount of time and I need time alone otherwise I get too anxious, I get moody and not nice to be around. I noticed it on the hike as well – once the hike was over I was keen to get back. I’d had lovely conversations all day, a few awkward moments, but nothing I said was as embarrassing as I get and I think I did OK, but after a whole day of it I was done, I needed to be by myself, quiet. In this way I think living alone will be good for me – I feel a bit calmer, less anxious, being able to come home and be by myself. I really am a bit of a loner.

Tomorrow I have three lectures, with an awkward hours break between the morning and afternoon. I have no idea what I am doing to do during that break. I’m trying not to worry about it. I want to stay in a good frame of mind this year.

Catch Me

the house
long tunnel
Little house containing one obvious passageway and a hidden entrance
One of the Exit/Entrances to the little house
Looking out from the watch tower
More tunnels
Chinese Gardens
Topiary
Reflection

As mentioned in the previous post, I went with my family to some gardens last week – Biddulph Grange Garden to be specific. The weather was bright and sunny which made it perfect for this sort of excursion. We ended up spending a few hours there as though these gardens are fairly small they are built in a maze like manner, with no sign posts and plenty of tunnels and cleverly hidden entrances. You basically get given a very basic map, then you are on your own trying to find your way around. That is how the gardens were designed, the map tells you. “We want you to experience the spirit of surprise and exploration”, it tells you. Well, my sister and I were certainly wandering around in circles before we finally discovered the entrances and passageways that would take us to where we wanted to be. (My aunt and my mother had long given up and gone for lunch) Along the way we bumped into another couple who were also hopelessly wondering around trying to find the bowling green, to little success. It really was frustrating, but strangely fun. You could not help but feel accomplished every time you stumbled upon a cleverly concealed entrance, every time you then managed to uncover a new section, and of course, once you’d finally managed to see everything (minus the bowling green. We really could not figure out where to go for that, either.)

“This world is yours, it’s all yours”

Looking back onto Ullswater
Climbing Up and Up...
Red Tarn, Catstye Cam and the view from Catstye Cam
Nearly at the top of Catstye Cam
The walk from Catstye Cam to Helvellyn
Walking across the top of Helvellyn towards a nearby peak, and some sheep
Looking down on Striding Edge
Hole in the Wall
The long way back, and some more sheep
sun set
Road back to Glenridding

I climbed my first mountain in Japan with my father and, as I was doing so, I talked to my dad about mountain climbing in the UK and somehow got him to agree to taking me to the lake district to climb something there. Of course, I didn’t think this would actually happen. I thought it highly likely my father was just saying that to appease me. But this week he informed me he’d taken Friday off work and he would be taking me to the Lake District to climb Helvellyn, the third highest peak in England and one of the most popular. I googled it and was apprehensive upon seeing photos of people balancing atop the narrow striding edge, but my father assured me that we’d be going another way that should be easier than that. I trusted him-imagining something like Mt Tarumae that we climbed in Japan- pathways and steps to the top.

On Friday I dragged myself out of bed just before 6.10am. Blearily I showered and washed my hair and pulled on my hiking gear- plain cotton pants, a t shirt, thick socks. I have nothing fancy. I’d gotten up so early in order to avoid my father shouting at me that I’d made us late by taking too long in the bathroom- we had plans to leave at 7.30am. Of course it was my father who only woke at 7am, and in the end we only left at 8am. Which actually wasn’t so bad. We were starting our walk from Glenridding, so basically we just had to take the motorway straight up north, then turn off to go to Windermere, and from there turn up to Glenridding. That drive from Windermere to Glenridding was very scenic. I had been to the lake district when I was younger, too young to really remember it. So it was like seeing it all new and with all the excitement and wonder that comes with that. The lake district is similar to the peak district, but grander. Blue skies, narrow country roads, winding stacked stone walls, sheep dotted about everywhere, large glimmering lakes.

We arrived at Glenridding around 10.30am and began our walk, taking a wrong turn and ending up halfway on the wrong route and having to turn around before setting off on the right path. The first part of the journey proper was a hellish slog upwards, upwards, upwards, always thinking that soon it’d flatten out, and always finding that it did not. It was hot, I was sweating and panting and flushed. I was miserable. My father was also miserably hot. We had to stop quite frequently for water and just to get our breath back, and just to try and cool down. Every cool breeze was met with a welcome sigh of relief. Eventually we had to stop after around an hour for a good 10 minutes to have a little to eat before carrying on up. The scenery was lovely though, and turning back revealed the path we’d taken snaking away behind us and Ullswater cradled between the hills. Eventually I spotted the peak of Catstye Cam poking out in the distance and soon after the path did even out. At this point, I threw my hands in the air and cried out in sheer joy. We’d made it! Well, we’d at least completed the hellish slog upwards to gain height. The view ahead of us showed Helvellyn clearly, and Catstye Cam and the valley where Red Tarn – the large lake below Helvellyn- lay.

We carried on walking, much easier now that the breeze had picked up and the path had become flatter, to arrive at Hole in the Wall, which we walked past and down to Red Tarn. We found ourselves a spot on the rocks near Red Tarn and ate lunch. That was nice. We then packed up again and headed up towards Helvellyn, turning off to go up Catstye Cam. From there we had some spectacular views of Ullswater. We didn’t linger too long there, and turned back to head along the top towards Helvellyn and oh, I was a fool to expect just a sloping path. The dirt path turned to steep rock- and that was the way we’d have to scramble up. I was not pleased- my father had promised me no scrambling. I did not want to scramble. But having little choice, I started the harrowing climb up, clinging on to rocks and desperately trying not to look down. It felt never-ending, and I hated every moment, so when I finally pulled myself up to Helvellyn I was more than relieved. I stood and looked about the flat top of the mountain. My father asked my opinion, and I was still grouchy from the climb and declared loudly “THIS IS NOT WORTH THAT.” Nearby, a man laughed. I glared at my father and followed him along the top. And OK, I was wrong, and I admitted to my father as such. Once up on Helvellyn it was more than worth it. The view was: the path we’d come on and Catstye Cam, Red Tarn and Ullswater in the distance, nearby peaks, and the shadows of other mountains. Of course there were sheep right up there too, having no trouble navigating the steep slopes of the mountain. My father and I found a spot to sit to gaze out over Red Tarn and gulp down some more water, and eat some sweets. Eventually my father lay down and promptly fell asleep, whilst I read my book. There was a very cooling breeze up there and I was no longer so stiflingly hot, and it was quiet and peaceful all the way up there, with spectacular views as a bonus. It was very enjoyable just to chill up there- about 850m above where we’d started.

My father woke up after a 10 minute power nap and we set out across the top of Helvellyn towards the adjoining peak of Lower Man. I’m not sure if we ever made it exactly there, but we did make it to some nearby peak, which gave us views of the next valley along, Ullswater still in the distance, and the back of Striding Edge. Behind us, the shadows of more mountains and lakes. Gorgeous.

The views of Striding Edge gave us hope that there would be a path we could take to avoid the rough scramble over the top. Though I was still nervous about getting down. We contemplated carrying along the top to the next peak, which seemed to have a gentler way down, but as it was unknown we decided to go with the devil we knew. We started back up to Helvellyn and had another sit down on the top close to where we’d been earlier. More sweets, more admiring the scenery. Then we had little choice but to go over to Striding Edge and try to get down. By this point it was about 5pm already. The first part of striding edge was all right but then we were met with a challenge, in order to get to the path we’d have to scramble down a sleep stope, littered with loose stones. Nearby was a grassier slope so we gingerly made our way down there instead, me whining the whole time as anxiety gripped me. I did not like this. Striding edge proved to be just as harrowing as getting up to Helvellyn had been. Yes, there was a path…but a loose definition of one. There was much scrambling to be done even after we made it to the path. And it was very exposed. Worse, anxiety started to make me feel slightly light-headed and disoriented…which was obviously not good. Still, there was nowhere to go but down and I persevered, once again concentrating hard and trying not to look down. My dad was wonderful here- guiding me along, holding my hand when necessary, and constantly reassuring me (even it was often in a teasing way.) It carried on for ages- edging along the narrow path and climbing over rocks, before we got to the end and to the Hole in the Wall. We passed through and then had a very lovely walk along nice even grass before we reached the junction to the path that would take us back to Red Tarn. We had to walk back on ourselves a bit but this was perfectly pleasant compared to all that desperate scrambling. Once at Red Tarn we took off our shoes and socks and plunged our feet into the cool water. And so we sat, as the sun begun to slip down towards the edge of Helvellyn, casting a stream of light across the water, our feet dangling in the water, eating chocolate cookies in companionable silence.

After a bit we dried off and put our shoes back on and set out on the path back- a long, twisty gravel affair. It was a bit slippy due to the loose stones, but manageable. The sun was definitely setting by then and it was beautiful. We were following a stream that had several small waterfalls. Eventually we came to a bridge across a low sloping waterfall and there we spotted a heron hunting for fish amongst the rapid flow of water. How lucky! We lingered and watched in amazement.

By that point, it was coming up to 8pm. My thighs were aching, and my fathers feet were killing him. But we had to get back to Glenridding, so on we persevered. My father was eager to get back, worried about my mother being worried about him as there was no signal to call her there, and he set us a rapid pace. Eventually we could cross over to paved road which was easier to walk on, but strangely more painful, but still we slogged on as the sun continued to set and got back to Glenridding just after 9pm, and then we were off home. We got back at 11.30pm, tired and aching but feeling very pleased with ourselves.

Yesterday I had a lovely lie in and woke up stiff and aching. Fun.

We had our first braai of the summer yesterday, in order to celebrate my birthday. It was nice, but my sister was moaning the whole day and I could not help but feel peeved at her stealing my thunder, just a little. My Mom baked me a dairy free chocolate cake whilst I was off with my father on Friday. and a few hours after the braai they brought it out for me- my family did. My Mom had put candles on that read “Happy birthday” and underneath she’d put those alphabet letter magnets to spell out my name. I got sung to and blew out my candles. My Mom pulled the candles out and then I cut into the cake and well, this could be classed as a pinterest fail. yeah, I did not find the recipe on pinterest. but I found it on a random blog and the cake was no where near as delicious as the photos promised, nor as the description made it sound. Shame, my poor mother was crushed. She had tried so hard but sadly the cake was greasy and no where near as rich and chocolatey as expected. I tried to reassure her- the frosting was nice at least! and I badly wanted to say something about the cake too but no.. it was not so great. Really, I do think it is the recipe though. Its the nature of the internet after all- it’s not reliable. and that recipe was definitely off. my poor, poor mother. I ate a slice this morning after breakfast, hoping to reassure her that it was at least edible, but I don’t think I managed to convince her. I feel so bad …I gave her the recipe after all!

Despite a few little things though, this has been an enjoyable weekend.

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