Heat Wave - the up side

It's like this. I don't enjoy heat.

No, no, no.

This is not a body that was born to sweat. Heat makes me uncomfortable, it makes me feel unwell, and it makes my brain stop working.

There is a REASON I live in the far north of England. It's cooler up here. Allegedly.

Now I know that to many of you thirty degree C temperatures (what is that, 90s?) are nothing to write home about. For me, they're a reason to hit the river.

Near where we live, and nearer to where Husband works, is a small valley in the Lake District called Borrowdale. Pretty much all my favourite things can be found there. In the middle is a tiny craggy hillock called Castle Crag - you know some of the old Russian fables and fairy tales where the wizard always put his heart somewhere else to keep it safe? Castle Crag is where I keep my heart - and past Castle Crag winds the Derwent, a sweet, clean, clear river, speeding over rapids and lingering through deep, shaded pools until at last it slides past whispering rushes to Derwent Water.

Wainwright called this the loveliest square mile in Lakeland for a reason.

When I go to the river, I'm travelling light, so I rarely take my camera. But I have found one picture of the spot I swim in, plus a picture from up high of part of the valley.


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It's a bit of alright, really, isn't it?