Travel Reference
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manner and all the patience in the world to stand and listen to two scruffy young men beg
for food from her. She was like a younger Mrs Goggins from
Postman Pat
.
'Wouldyoulikeoneofthesepies?I'munlikelytosellmanymoreofthese,asit'sgetting
late in the day. We've got a large chicken pie here... this one's a steak pie... and that one is
apple.'
'That's very generous of you,' said Ben. 'Which one shall we have, George?'
'Oh go on, take all three,' she said. 'I'm sure you'll find room for them.'
It was nearly 6pm by the time that we left Ullswater.
'Where are we going to stay tonight?' asked Ben.
'Not sure,' I said, taking a look at the route book. 'We've only done about 25 miles
today so it would be good to try and do as much as we can in the time that's left.'
'But it'll be dark in an hour.'
'Looking at this, it seems that there's nothing between us and Carlisle, which is another
25 miles away.'
'Carlisle? But that's in Scotland isn't it.'
'No,' I said confidently, only because I had the topic in front of me and was able to
check. 'Not quite. I think it might have been part of Scotland once, maybe.'
'We'll never do another 25 miles today. Especially with these bastard hills.'
'According to the topic, there's a short section of uphill coming up, and then it's down-
hill the entire way. Let's give it a go.'
'Alright, but I don't want to end up having to sleep in a bloody field tonight.'
The route left the Lake District and followed back roads through the villages of Greys-
toke, Little Blencow and Hutton-in-the-Forest, tracing parallel to the M6. The route book
had not lied; it was downhill the entire way and it made us feel like proper cyclists for the
firsttime.Well,itwouldhavedone,hadInothadtostopeveryfewminutestoreattachThe
Falcon's chain.
It was dark by the time we reached Carlisle.
'Bloody hell. Why did the English fight for this place? The Scots can have it back if
they want?' said Ben.
'Yeah,itdoeslooklikeabitofadump,butmaybewe'vejustcomeinonitsworstside.'
Within the first five minutes of arriving in Carlisle, we had been told we were 'a couple
of fookin bike poofs', were asked if we wanted to buy any acid, and then preached to by
a born-again Christian. This was three separate incidents, by the way, not just one lunatic
with his finger in many pies.
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