Day 6: On the Map, Off the Map

Beks here. Today was a little off the books. Okay, it was so far off the books that Katie, Mom, and I didn’t walk on the trail today. Instead, we took a bus to Penrith, where three lovely nurses inspected our mother’s infected toe, prescribed her some antibiotics, and wrapped her blisters. From Penrith, it was one humdinger* of a taxi ride to Kirkby Stephens (where the second “k” is silent). The owner of our lovely B&B, the Jolly Farmers, allowed us early admittance. When I walked into our rooms and saw chocolates by each bed, I experienced a euphoria much like Katie does at every tea time. After safely tucking our mother away into bed, we went out in search of lunch.

Of course, it was raining. But this rain was different than our previous days on the trail. This was a downpour. A torrential rain. When Katie and I ducked into the first restaurant we saw, maybe a third a mile into town, we were so wet our hair dripped on the tables. Cascaded, really. Katie ate her first fish & chips while I went all-out-American with a cheeseburger. It was awesome. 

Another dash back in the same downpour, and we were back to dripping on someone else’s floor. Our mother took one look at our bedraggled appearance as we delivered her food and said, “Oh, I hope Sarah isn’t getting wet!”

Clearly, no sympathy for the food delivery service.

As our luggage hadn’t arrived yet, we were stuck in wet clothes. Then Katie opened the magical wardrobe in our magical room, and we espied two, fluffy white robes. For the next two hours, we lounged in robes, ate Cadbury chocolates, and watched Lauren Bacall and Marilyn Monroe in How to Marry a Millionaire. It was a well-earned vacation of an afternoon after 71 exhausting miles through the Lake District.

While we kicked back with our chocolates like sane people, She-Woman-He-Man (Sarah) was out walking the 21 mile stretch from Shap to Kirkby Stephens.  In the downpour.  When she finally arrived a little before 5pm, nothing about her was dry. It took her an hour before she could speak to anyone.

Our evening was marked by two delightful experiences: first and foremost, the discovery of a launderette tucked away behind an old church that had been converted into a youth hostel. We eagerly traded pounds and pence for fresh, clean clothes while devouring our second delight of the evening: Chinese take-out, which boasted the absolute best Sweet & Sour Chicken I have ever had. Double score.

The day ended with the Men's Olympic Springboard Competition. As we couldn't figure out the scoring system, Katie took to ranking the men by appearance. Extra points for dark hair, general facial scruffiness, and well-defined pectorals and abs. Hilarity ensued. Great night.

*Humdinger, in this instance, means 65 quid.