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BB1812
: The Old Man, the Penguin and the Baby
Thursday
19th April 2018
One
year on from my 47DON=70
birthday celebrations, I thought it would be a nice
idea to continue where we left off, i.e. at Potter
Tarn, and head all the way down to Kendal and in particular
to the Tap to celebrate 47DON=71. John then announced
that we had a second reason to celebrate- namely the
birth of his first grandchild, Isobel.
We
had a couple of time constraints. As we were to
catch the 555 bus to Staveley and as we (Robin, Stan,
Terry, Tony and me) are all of an age that permits free
travel we, and many other of the silver haired brigade,
couldn’t set off earlier than the 9:40.
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That
was not the problem; indeed Tony welcomed
the lie-in. The critical constraint
was that The Tap, where we had butties on
order, didn’t open until 4 p.m.. Everything
had to be staged for opening-time arrival.
The boys, now joined by John and convinced
that we had plenty of time for the intended
outing, decided that our first stage should
be a visit to Eclec, the appropriately named
wotsit and coffee shop (where Percy, my
birthday present from Margaret, had been
discovered).
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I
managed to extract them by 10:30 to lead them up the
hill....
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.....
and over to Potter Tarn.
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It
was becoming the mighty fine day that we had been promised.
Knowing
that the way back to Kendal was rather further than
the boys realised, I drove them on to Gurnal Dubbs for
a noon time lunch stop.
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Tony
then amazed me by eschewing the first opportunity and
taking us half way round the tarn to a place with an
obscured view before getting his butties out. Perhaps
we are at last weaning him off his noon-time refuelling
or maybe it was the effect of his lie-in.
As
we passed the boat house, we met a couple of- well I
don’t know what to call them. They were older
than girls, ladies doesn’t seem quite the right word,
nor does babes and women even less so. Females
is technically accurate but rather cold. How about
lasses? We met two lasses who had been swimming
in the tarn.
Although
we didn’t know them, it turned out that they were friends
with the lass who had celebrated her 60th birthday by
swimming in 60 different tarns, accompanied in at least
one by Bryan (who kept his hat on- see BB1726).
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I
let Tony & co have a reasonable lunch
break then stirred them on in case they
wanted to visit the megalithic stone circle
(BB1621).
They didn’t.
Or
if they wanted to visit each of the boundary
stones for the Low Taggleshaw enclosure.
They didn't. They were content with
the ones that stood beside the track but
they did stop to read the plaque.
Shortly
afterwards, we met a man climbing the hill,
fly fishing rod in his hand. It was
another case of we don’t know you but we
know whom you know!
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Meandering
way down towards Kendal, we stopped now and again to
wonder at the perfectly circular, seeming unnamed hillock
that is quartered by stone walls and looks as if it
ought to be something of historical importance. If
it is, I have so far failed to find any evidence.
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Having
walked through a mucky farmyard with four tractor projects
for Tony.....
.....
our next point of interest was Sprint Mill. The
owner, slightly known to some of us, wasn’t around but
the door to the workshop was open and inside was a quite
fascinating sight.
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Before
long we reached the outskirts of Kendal and as we had
seemingly made such good time I decided to take the
boys the long way round to the confluence of the Mint
and the Kent at Sandy Bottoms- an area previously unknown
to several.
It
was there that I discovered that my watch had stopped
and we had 25 minutes less than I thought to reach the
Tap as it opened. There was still time as long
as we got a move on.
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This
we did, following the path through the town alongside
the river, which will soon be much improved thanks to
the controversial conversion of the eyesore of the informal,
unkempt car park into a riverside recreation area.
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Not
that many Kendalians share my view on the
matter but there we are!
As
we reached Miller Bridge, I looked up into
the town and there I could see the Town
Hall clock showing three minutes to four.
We
only had a couple of hundred yards or thereabouts
to go so arrived at the Tap bang on time.
I
felt quite pleased with myself even though
in truth it was more of an accident than
a masterpiece of timing.
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A
table awaited us in the sunshine where our ranks were
expanded first by Martin,
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and
later by Roger and James who had been unable to join
us walking plus Bryan & Liz who had been up
Helm Crag.
A
toast was drunk to the health and happiness of this
Old Man and, more importantly, to baby Isobel and proud
grandfather John.
Don,
Thursday 19th April 2018
PS
The butties produced by Ronnie at the Tap were
enthusiastically scoffed but pride of place must go
to the finest sausage rolls I have ever tasted. Ronnie
said they came from Plumgarths so next time I am passing
guess what I am going to buy!
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Mike:
Shame
I couldn’t join you, I had hoped to get to the Tap but the meeting went on too
long. Once
again sartorial conspiracy, or just the boys in blue?
Don:
Just
our normal instinctive elegance!
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