I knew when I applied for my UK working visa last year the timing could have been better. With the global economy the way it was, a smarter choice would have been to stay in my job in Australia – not try to look for one in Britain. But here I am anyway. After a few, admittedly half-hearted, weeks of job hunting, one position really caught my eye. The youth hostel in Keswick, a town in England’s Lake District, needed an assistant.
The position was advertised as a contract until the end of September, but some shuffling with existing staff meant they only needed someone for two weeks. Two weeks of living in a gorgeous little town in a beautiful area filled with big blue lakes and rolling green hills? Pick me, pick me!!!.
So that’s how I find myself here in Keswick. A head’s up: it’s pronounced Kessick. It has a population of about 5000 and it’s a mostly older demographic. The houses are beautiful and it’s a B&B paradise. It’s also chock-full of tourists. The Lake District is very popular with walkers, as there’s a lot of mountains here, including England’s highest, Scafell Pike. I’m living in a house next to the hostel right on the River Greta. And when the clouds clear, I look up to see big, fat mountains. It’s beautiful.
After just one day of work I was rewarded with three off. The forecast for the weekend was a bit iffy so I didn’t make plans and instead headed out when the skies cleared.
Keswick sits at one end of Derwentwater, a lovely big lake. On Saturday I walked through town to the riverbank with the intention of having an ice cream and relaxing by the water. One of my favourite things about this countryside is the colour. The paddocks are so green. In some my photos it looks a bit fake, but that’s how it is. There is a small hilly paddock that separates the town centre from the river bank with sheep in it, but also a gate where the public can walk in. Quite a few people had taken in picnic chairs and or blankets, just sitting overlooking the water. Dogs were running around but none bothered the sheep.
I bought some food for the ducks and sat on one of the small jetties throwing it into the water. Then I followed one of the walking tracks around the river’s edge. The skies had cleared up and the threat of rain had been replaced with
sun. The lake edges are rather jagged so quite often I would come to a little tip that looked out over the water. Then I would decide perhaps I would walk on just a bit further. This continued for a while. About 4km. Most of the track was flat, although a bit sloppy from the morning’s rain. I’d be walking along the water for a few hundred metres, then through the bush, appear at a gate and head across a field, then back to the water. I eventfully settled on Lodore Falls as my destination, which is nearly at the other end of the lake.
The recent rain meant the falls were quite full. Apparently they dry up a lot when the weather is fine. I doubt that’s a common occurrence though. I considered walking right round the lake, but I was without a map and it looked 
a bit more hilly on the other side. I didn’t want to risk biting of more than I could walk before it got dark. Most of the walkers I had met on the trail were quite well equipped. I had a camera, a water bottle and half a bag of duck food.
I retraced my steps: along the little stone fences, past the canoeists taking a break on the shore, overtook the seasoned hikers with their backpacks and walking poles and finally reached the ducks, with whom I shared the last of the duck food.
