I've never been very good at resting. So I spent three hours last night in planning my exact route through the West Country (the trip I'll be starting in about three days). Since my hotels are already booked and, in some cases, paid for, the main thing was to figure out how to get from place to place via the most picturesque route, and how to fit in all the other interesting spots along the way. I buckled down with all my maps, and guide-books and ... well, all I can say is it's going to be a very busy few days when I start off in Salisbury on Wednesday: Stonehenge, Salisbury Cathedral, Wells Cathedral, Bath, Tintagel Castle, lots of small fishing villages, Clifton Suspension Bridge, the SS Great Britain, Land's End, the Tate museum in St. Ives, the maritime museums in Plymouth and Portsmouth - for starters :)

While I'd been watching the Ladies Final at Wimbledon yesterday afternoon, it had begun to rain; in fact, it rained all evening, and this morning it was still raining! People (including me) keep saying things like "It's more like April than July!" But that's not so: this weather is exactly like an English july, unfortunately!

The morning view from my bedroom - the umbrellas are out

After a vigorous work-out in my room, I tried to figure out what there was to do here in weather like this - not much, is the answer, particularly without a car. So I temporized by treating myself to my first fine, restaurant meal in the Lake District. I should mention that fine dining is not one of the attractions of this area: the overwhelming majority of restaurants and pubs here are "traditional" - which is a euphemism for "lousy english food". As for the coffee - don't get me started! But I had a great lunch today at a place called Lucys on Plate, while reading the Sunday papers.

While I was eating, the restaurant's sound system suddenly played "I left my heart in San Francisco", and the warm, ethereal longing in the song caused my emotions to well up: I had no idea I had such real tenderness for the place. And pride. Or maybe it's just home-sickness!

I think that one of the biggest discoveries I've made about myself on this trip is that I enjoy getting into the countryside by myself. Strangely enough, although I've always described myself as a city person, in recent years I've found that the noise and crowds make me irritable. On this trip, everytime I've gotten away into the woods or hills, I've felt immediately at peace.

Today, after lunch, when the rain had almost petered out, I took the path up towards Jenkins Crag, a hike I'd never tried before. The first part of the hike takes you up through Skelghyll Wood, along a stoney path next to a tinkling, tumbling stream. After the rain, you really had to watch your step to avoid slipping on the stones, but there was the dividend for me that I found some nice stones to take back with me as souvenirs.

Hiking up towards Jenkins Crag

The stream that comes tumbling through the woods.

Once you emerge from the woods, you're suddenly surrounded by the fells again, some shrouded by mist and clouds: no matter how often you see it, it's always beautiful. But you had to watch your feet again, but this time to avoid standing in goat-droppings, which were everywhere!

Panorama of the hills

The mountain goats

I'd brought my drawing pad and pencils with me to try out some sketching, but I couldn't find anywhere to sit that wasn't covered with droppings, or soaking wet. Eventually, I gave up on the idea, and hiked back down again, taking a different route that seemed rarely used, down through Kelsick Scar. Here the woods were more closed in: everything was silent, mysterious and lonely. Great moss-covered rocks jutted out of the ferns. It all reminded me of something out of Middle Earth. Yet if I stopped still for a few minutes, all of a sudden the birds would start singing nearby, no longer warned off by the noise of a big animal (i.e. me!) trampling through the undergrowth.

Hiking back down hill through the rocks and dense trees.

And that's probably my last hike in the Lakes. I've loved being here, despite the poor weather (apart from one half-day of sunshine). However, I wish I'd reserved a car: public transport apart, it's very difficult to reach some of the more beautiful regions, and I've been limited to the well-traveled routes within fifteen miles of Ambleside. Tomorrow, it's back to city-life once again, with two days in Manchester.