The rain thrashed down upon us during our time in Grasmere, and after a hectic few weeks of university and work I had come down with a cold. Despite all of this, we still tried to make the most of our time in the Lake District, and after a filling breakfast at our hotel headed out into the deluge.
A word on our B&B, by the way, should you ever wish to stay in Grasmere: Forest Side Hotel is a self-awarded two star hotel, but almost certainly deserves to be three star (apparently the hoops you have to jump though for official classification are just not worth it for a small business). If you're a fan of old country houses, rolling estates, and making up your own chilling ghost stories, then this is the place for you. It felt Brontë-esque to us, especially in the bleak weather, and Chris & I loved it.
Our first port of call was Dove Cottage, the "inspirational home of William Wordsworth". Just how inspirational can a cottage be, I asked myself? Well, I was pleasantly surprised, more by our charismatic guide than the house itself, though it appears the Wordsworths lived a very comfortable and enjoyable 19th century life. Poets, authors and artists all came to visit and ended up staying for years, taking jolly walks around the area, and lolling around the various lakes. During this time Wordsworth wrote arguably his most famous poem, I Wandered Lonely As A Cloud:
I wandered lonely as a cloudWordsworth was awarded Poet Laureate in 1843, but never felt inspired enough to actually produce any poetry. Sorry boss, can't do any work for you today.. I just don't feel inspired. What inspired me in Grasmere, more than scenery or cottages or the fresh country air, was Sarah Nelson's gingerbread. Sold in a tiny shop (one of the smallest in the world!) your choice is simply between packs of six or twelve gingerbread slices. It's a popular concept as the two of us were jammed in the shop with a host of others. I don't like gingerbread normally - too doughy, too sweet - but this gingerbread really is something else. Properly ginger-y, properly bread-y - I don't know how else to describe it! We've already scoffed our six pack and my mum and dad started on their twelve yesterday.
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils..
Put simply, this was a day of poetry & gingerbread.. a day which required the restorative effects of a piece of the latter and a cup of tea in a big, fluffy, marshmallow of a bed. Just lovely.
There's that darned curtain again! Coordinates nicely with this look though. I'm wearing:
H&M via charity shop coat (similar)
Dad's trilby (similar)
